Call of the Colossus: An epic fantasy novel (The Mindstream Chronicles Book 2) (7 page)

He pointedly ignored the request. “I should very much like to continue building our relationship in the meantime, building our mutual trust and confidence.”

“I as well, Your Majesty,” Jora said, feeling in equal measure relieved, honored, and excited. She chanced a glance at the dominee, whose face was red, her eyes glaring.

“However,” King Yaphet went on, “should you renege on your agreement of these terms, the verdict will stand, and you will be punished in whatever manner the Justice Bureau sees fit. Do we have an agreement?”

Free. Pardoned, as long as she didn’t talk about the smuggling to anyone. She hadn’t dared even hope for such good fortune and found herself nodding eagerly, jarring a fresh tear loose to dribble down her face. “Yes, Your Majesty. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

He broke into a wide grin. “Wonderful. I’m relieved to know you value your own life as much as you value truth and justice. Again, I assure you that I won’t let this matter languish.”

“Your Majesty,” Dominee Ibsa said more firmly. “I would like a word with you, if you please.”

King Yaphet sighed and stood, which prompted Jora to stand as well. “Yes, Dominee. One moment, please, Miss Lanseri.” He followed the elder woman to the far side of the room, where the two argued in hushed voices and whispers. Jora watched in bewilderment, wondering how the dominee—religious leader and Minister of Truth—could talk so assumptively to the king without reprimand. Regardless of how long they’d known each other, he was the king. He could demand she accept his word as law.

At last, the dominee fell silent and thoughtful, and after a moment, she said, “Fine. We’ll try it your way.” With that, she strode from the room without even a glance at Jora and slammed the door shut behind her.

The king cringed, but he said nothing about it. He retrieved a piece of paper from the desk and returned to where Jora was standing. “I didn’t think I would get her blessing, and so I had the Vice Minister of Truth draft this conditional pardon in the event you agreed to my terms. It’s already signed and sealed.” He handed it to her.

In exquisite script, it said in simple terms that Jora Lanseri, otherwise known as The Gatekeeper, was pardoned of any and all crimes committed prior to this day on the condition that she not discuss the matters leading up to those actions with anyone outside the Justice Bureau and the king’s appointed cabinet officials.

“That won’t excuse you for insubordination,” King Yaphet said. “I won’t interfere in matters pertaining to your behavior within the Order. That’s between you and your elder.”

Except that her elder was dead and she was no longer part of the Order, though she supposed a pardon could reinstate her. The Justice Bureau had to have moved Elder Kassyl’s hierarchy to another elder. Jora just hoped it wasn’t Gastone. Though she didn’t suspect him of any wrongdoing, she didn’t trust that man. “Yes, Your Majesty. I understand.”

She looked over the paper once more, relishing the feel of it in her hand. If felt so… real. The choice was obvious—give him the paper back and be beheaded, or accept it and keep her mouth shut. The only question remaining was whether she could live with the pain of knowing she was alone in the world, without family, without friends.

No, that wasn’t true. She still had Finn. She still had Sundancer.

“My friend Korlan–” she started to say.

“No. He’s not part of this bargain. I’m not offering to pardon him for treason and desertion. He has the right to petition me before his punishment is carried out, and I will hear him if he does, but this bargain is strictly between you and me. Do I have your word? Do you swear to your king and country that you will honor the terms of our agreement?”

Taking the deal meant abandoning Korlan. It was true that he would have been tried for treason whether she’d taken him with her to face Sonnis or not. Still, accepting the bargain for herself and leaving him with the hangman’s noose about his neck felt wrong. What was she to do about it? Refuse and let the enforcers execute them both? If she accepted the king’s terms, she would be free to spend the next few days ensuring he was given the opportunity to petition King Yaphet. At least then she could speak on his behalf, now that she and the king were allies.

“Yes,” she said with a nod. “I agree to your terms. Thank you, Your Majesty.”

He offered his hand, and she shook it. “Thank
you
,” he returned. “For your trust, for your allegiance, and for your service to Serocia. I would like to introduce you to the Minister of War sometime soon. I’m sure the two of you can find a way to put your unusual and invaluable talents to good use.”

Jora swallowed hard. “Thank you again.”

Chapter 4

Rivva was waiting for Jora at the bottom of the stairs, smiling up at her. “I see you’ve agreed to his terms. I’m so glad—and relieved.”

“I’m sorry,” Jora said as she started to descend. “I went to the guest room to change back into my… other clothes–”

“I had your prisoner’s blacks tossed out.” The princess waved her forward. “Come, come. We need to get you back to the conclusion of your trial. I’ll send someone to fetch the clothes once you’ve had a chance to change back into your own.”

Jora continued down the steps, embarrassed for having nothing to wear. The enforcers had taken her spare clothes when she was arrested, and she wasn’t sure when—or if—she would get them back. She had no money to buy replacements.

As if hearing her thoughts, Rivva said, “I’ll command the enforcers to return your belongings to you.” They started back the way they’d come, Rivva’s steps light and quiet, as if she were a bird walking beside a horse.

Jora chewed her bottom lip. She’d hidden her books before turning herself in, but she desperately wanted her flute back. “Including my flute?”

“Of course your flute.” Rivva put one arm around Jora’s shoulders and squeezed. She was slightly taller and slender but surprisingly strong. “I can imagine how important it is to you.” She released Jora before they reached the staircase leading to the ground floor and skipped merrily down. “You must be so relieved to know you aren’t going to be punished.”

Her six guards were waiting at the bottom landing, standing at attention like painted toy soldiers. Four proceeded down the corridor that led to the heavy outer door, and two fell into step behind Rivva and Jora as they followed.

“I am,” Jora said, trying to color her voice with enthusiasm she didn’t feel. She might have been free, but she still had nowhere to go and no money to buy food. “I’m grateful to the king for his generous offer.” Her voice echoed against the walls, along with the marching bootsteps.

“He’s no dunce. An ally as powerful as you are is an invaluable asset. And frankly, it’s perfectly understandable why you acted as you did.”

Thank you
, Jora thought. “My family, my hometown, meant everything to me. Those people didn’t deserve to die because I found out someone’s secret.”

“Absolutely not,” Rivva said. The footman was waiting outside the door with a parasol for the princess, which he held over her as they walked to the carriage waiting in the brick courtyard. “I’d have done the same thing if I’d been in your shoes. When I first learned of the situation, I was appalled that they were even putting you on trial, but that’s our process, whether someone is justified in their actions or not. It’s behind you now.”

“Not quite,” Jora said. “They’re still waiting to sentence me for my crimes.”

Rivva winked at her. “The paper in your hands should settle that matter. The investigation alone is worth the pardon, let alone whatever else you can do to help us win the war.”

Jora flinched in surprise. “What investigation?”

Rivva held up one finger as a request to wait a moment. The footman helped them both into the carriage, and they settled onto the forward facing seat as before. The carriage lurched forward and began to rumble across the cobbled streets.

“The godfruit smuggling investigation, of course,” Rivva said. A wary look came into her eyes. “That is what my father asked of you, is it not?”

“No. He asked me to leave it be and trust him to put the right investigators on it.”

“What?” the princess said, her voice almost a shriek. “No, that’s not right. You must have misunderstood. He and I talked about this. We agreed the best course of action was to have you investigate it, since you’re the one who knows the most about it. You more than anyone would know where to begin. Those were his own words.”

Jora pursed her lips in thought. The king had been about to ask for her help when the dominee barged in. “He and the dominee did argue a bit, but that was after he offered to pardon me.”

“Dominee Ibsa was there? I thought she’d left.”

“I did, too,” Jora said, “but she came in while King Yaphet and I were talking.”

Rivva looked thoughtful for a moment, tapping her fingers against the yellow fabric of her dress draped over the seat cushion beside her. From the crease between her eyebrows and the way she pursed and unpursed her lips, it was plain the princess was deeply concerned about the turn of events. “Something is wrong,” she murmured.

Jora wondered whether the princess suspected the dominee was behind the smuggling, as she did.

“Listen,” Rivva said, angling her body toward Jora. “I need to ask you to do something, but you must promise this stays between us. No one must know we’ve spoken of this.”

Jora nodded, surprised. “Of course, Rivva. What is it?”

“I need you to investigate—secretly—the smuggling of godfruit to our enemies.”

Jora flinched. “What?”

“You and I both know that the Legion is looking the other way while crates and crates of it are shipped in the dark of night to Mangend and Arynd Ban, and perhaps even to Barad Selegal. What you don’t know is how high up this smuggling problem goes. Am I right?”

“Yes, but–”

“I suspect that some of my father’s appointed cabinet ministers are involved, perhaps even the dominee herself.”

Jora pressed her lips together, both dismayed and relieved that the princess shared her misgivings about the dominee.

“Men and women he trusts are committing this disgrace behind his back. I can’t prove it or I’d have taken the matter to him directly, but I’ve heard enough snippets of conversations in dark rooms and halls that I know something inauspicious is occurring.”

“But the king swore me to silence on the matter,” Jora said. “I gave my word that I would let his investigators handle it.”

“I understand, but listen. He and I had talked about it this morning, mere moments before I came to retrieve you. He was determined to ask you to secretly investigate the smuggling and report back to him what you discovered. The fact that the dominee interrupted your conversation was concerning enough, but reversing his thinking on the matter and asking you not to investigate tells me the dominee has influenced him. I sincerely believe—no. I
know
he wanted you to investigate it. He told me that was precisely the reason he wished to speak with you.”

“But he specifically asked me not to. Even after the dominee left, he didn’t change course and ask me to do it in secret.”

“Set aside the smuggling issue for a moment and consider this question: if you discovered that some of his investigators or cabinet members were committing treason, would you go to him with that information?”

“Yes, of course,” Jora said.

“Of course, because you’re a loyal Serocian citizen. You would want him to know so that he could hold them accountable. You might even gather evidence without anyone knowing so that you could either catch them in the act or arrange it so that the king could witness their vile behavior for himself.”

Jora nodded. “Yes, but to promise the king to drop the matter and then investigate would also be treason.”

“If you had reason to believe that the king was under duress when he gave you that command, and if the princess and heiress to the throne told you in no uncertain terms that he had planned differently only hours earlier, if she begged you to find out who was responsible so that we could stop the smuggling and perhaps one day end this awful, bloody war, would you not entertain the request?”

Jora chewed the inside of her cheek. Stopping the war was the ultimate goal, wasn’t it? And if the enemy soldiers were reliving because some traitors were selling away Serocia’s advantage, then it only made sense that stopping the smuggling would ultimately stop the war. Eventually, Mangend and Arynd Ban would run out of soldiers to fight, and they’d be forced to call a truce.

“Think of it,” Rivva said. “Having someone who could track down the leader of the smuggling operation by using the power you have would be much more efficient than using investigators who lacked those powers, even if those investigators were uninvolved in covering it up.”

“I-I don’t understand why the king hasn’t requested the help of the Justice Bureau,” Jora said. Her hands began to sweat, but she didn’t want to wipe them on her borrowed trousers.

“Because Elder Sonnis was involved. We don’t know how many more of them still are or who they might be. That’s precisely why he and I agreed to ask you to do it.”