Shadows: Book One of the Eligia Shala (5 page)

“…but I don’t want to force you into this. It must be your choice.” Phillip held up his hand as Jenevra started to speak. “I don’t care what they told you on that Island about obeying me, Jenn. You’re my cousin, and I don’t want you getting into this without knowing what’s at stake.”

“I’ve been away five years,” Jenevra said. “I am not who I was; or who you think I am. I can do this—and, just so you know—the one order you cannot change is the last one my Master at the Temple gave me … to protect you and the Empire, whatever the cost. Which reminds me–” She took hold of the talisman hanging around her neck in one hand, and placed the other hand over Phillip’s heart, shaking her head at him to prevent questions as she closed her eyes and drew her own breathing in perfect match with her cousin’s heartbeat. A few moments passed as she used the power of the talisman to connect her to her cousin. Opening her eyes, she answered his unspoken question. “I can find you anywhere now,” she said. “The stone helps me to trace your heartbeat wherever you are. If I’m going to protect you, I have to know where to find you. It’s true!” She saw the doubt in Phillip’s eyes. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to prove it to you.” She gave him a slightly lopsided smile. “Now, if you’d like to order me not to go visit your mother, I’d be more than happy to obey.”

“Your Majesty?” The maid dropped a curtsey. “Princess Jenevra is here.”

Empress Arrilia Neilla, ruler of the Marissime Empire, turned towards the maid. “Very well, Sianna. Bring her to me directly.” A soft, rose-colored robe wrapped around her, the Empress moved smoothly to a small table in an oriel window bay. Pale morning light softened by colored panes of glass dappled the chairs and table as she poured two cups of a fragrant herbal tea, with a slightly trembling hand. At the sound of the door opening she turned, a bitter-sweet smile touching her lips as her youngest niece entered the room tentatively. The Empress’s hands flew, inadvertently, to her mouth, and the breath caught in her throat as Jenevra moved into the light, and Arrilia Neilla saw the girl fully.

“Your Imperial Majesty.”

“Jenevra, welcome home!” Blinking tears from her eyes at her niece’s stiff formality, Arrilia Neilla raised Jenevra’s slight form in front of her from a half curtsey, hugged her close—feeling the rigid resistance—and planted a light kiss on each cheek. Taking refuge in banality, the Empress pushed a cup of tea into Jenevra’s hands. “Sit, sit,” she ordered. “Merciful heavens, look at you, child! Just look at those nails. What on earth have you been doing? You look dreadful.”

Jenevra sat, not replying, but returning a strained smile. What was she expected to say? The Empress was behaving as though nothing had happened; yet it had been her orders that exiled the young princess from family and friends. There had been a long period on the Island when Jenevra had simply hated them all—even while knowing in her heart that she’d do anything to have this woman smile at her like she was doing now. Raking one hand through her hair, she tried to push some of the offending strands away from her face.

Arrilia Neilla gestured at the untouched tea in Jenevra’s hands. “Come on, now, drink up.” At least as uncomfortable with the meeting as her niece was, Arrilia Neilla knew that they both needed time to be around one another again, and that it wouldn’t be easy. She could sense the wariness in Jenevra; a tension that felt so much stranger because of how like her mother, Arrilia Neilla’s sister, Jenevra looked.

“I don’t suppose you’ve been eating properly either?” The Empress sighed. “What are we going to do with you, child? It really is about time you began to take your position a little more seriously, you know. You’ve run around long enough; it’s time to settle down to your responsibilities as a member of the Imperial family.”

Jenevra’s eyes came up sharply at the implied unfairness of the comments.

You know, your mother and I weren’t allowed to run wild the way you have.”

Jenevra was thankful her nails were too short to draw blood; her fists were clenched so tightly.

“Your grandmother would rise in her catacomb if she could see you looking like this.” Arrilia Neilla’s elegant hands waved, encompassing the bedraggled, far less than regal image in front of her. “What can we do with you? A light breakfast maybe? Or something more substantial? You don’t look as though you’ve had a decent meal in months. Then a bath … definitely a bath … and fresh clothes. That will be a start. The rest we can talk about later. Now go eat, bathe and rest. We’ll expect you to join the family at dinner.”

Dismissing her angry, confused niece to the waiting attendants, Arrilia Neilla sank back into her chair, slow tears beginning to course down her face at the damage she now saw her unthinking acquiescence had caused to her.

One of Arrilia Neilla’s main idiosyncrasies as Empress had been to have bathing facilities installed in most of the palace suites. She’d always said that while she might have to put up with differences of speech and manners from visiting dignitaries, there was absolutely no reason why she need put up with their smells also. Jenevra had never been as grateful as now for her aunt’s peculiar notions, and she sank gratefully into a large tub of steaming bathwater, scented with Arrilia Neilla’s own favorite blend. The tub was more than large enough for her to lie back at full stretch, sinking entirely under the water. Raising her head from the scented water, feeling some of the tiredness of travel slough away, she began to feel like she was starting to shed some of her recent life, and finding another piece of the puzzle to putting her old life back together, as far as she would be able to.

Where to start? As the water cooled slowly, Jenevra lay pondering her toes and her options. Finally deciding that the first thing she needed to do was to reacquaint herself with the many secrets of the palace and its people, she walked confidently along the passages and marble hallways until she found the door she remembered. Glancing round to make sure no-one could see; she slipped through the door, letting the heavy tapestry back down behind her.

 CHAPTER FOUR

Later that afternoon, Phillip asked for Raik Rabenaldt, High Commander of the Imperial War Host, to visit him. As he waited, Phillip considered the information Dai’Nimh’s letter had given him, and the faith he was being asked to place in his previously unreliable cousin.

“Your Highness?” His steward came quietly into the room. “Commander Rabenaldt’s outside. Chancellor Menzetti is also asking for some time with you today.”

“Send the Commander right in, but ask the Chancellor to leave me a note if it’s urgent. Otherwise tell him I’ll see him tomorrow at our regular meeting. It’s family today. Princess Jenevra has returned to court, and my mother is insisting on a family dinner.”

The steward sighed almost inaudibly at the news, and beckoned the High Commander of the Imperial War Host into the room, closing the door behind him and heading to put the Chancellor off … never an easy task.

The Emperor-to-be watched the tall, broad-shouldered Commander, as he placed his worn leather gauntlets down on the table, ran his fingers through dark chestnut hair and beard liberally flecked with gray, took the flagon Phillip was holding out to him and drank deeply.

Phillip grinned. “You’ve heard, then?”

“Oh Tore, yes.” Raik Rabenaldt drained the tankard. “I hope you’ve got plenty of that, Your Highness. From Brogan’s report and Tessier’s reaction, I think we’re going to need it.”

“You haven’t heard anything yet, Commander,” Phillip’s eyes were sparkling with mirth. “Not only is she back, I intend to make her my Imperial Protector.”

Motioning for the older man to sit at the table, Phillip refilled Raik’s flagon, and poured one for himself. Sitting at the opposite side of the table and steepling his fingers, Phillip rested his chin on them. “I want you to tell me what you know of this ‘Order’ that she claims to be in. She gave me a letter, supposedly from their leader, and I need to know how seriously to take it. I want to know everything Raik. Don’t leave anything out; not even the parts my mother told you not to tell me.” Phillip raised a sardonic eyebrow as Raik’s eyes met his guiltily. “Yes, I know she knows more about it than she tells me, and how much she trusts you.” Phillip paused, judging the time for a little candor to be about right. “I also know, Commander, how much you love each other.”

“Your Highness!” Raik pushed away from the table, avoiding Phillip’s eyes. “Of course I love her—she’s my Empress. I love her as any dutiful subject does.”

“Rubbish! And that’s putting it politely, Raik. I know how you feel about her, and I’m glad for it. Maybe when she’s not Empress any more, you’ll be able to do something about it? She’s been alone long enough, I think.”

Raik’s gray eyes met Phillip’s gaze steadily in acknowledgement. “I hope you’re right. She is my life,” he said simply. With an obvious effort, Raik changed the subject. “Jenevra … well, where to start? You’ve seen her already?”

Phillip grinned. “You know Jenn. She couldn’t wait to see me. She has some suggestions for your palace guards too.”

Raik frowned, but decided to let it go for the time being. “What do you know about the Order?”

“Nothing … except that it’s not the convent we were told she’d gone to.” Although there was quiet accusation in his tone, Phillip wasn’t quite ready to accept Jenevra’s version, or Dai’Nimh’s letter without confirmation.

Raik colored, hesitating momentarily, then continued; his voice just loud enough to carry between the two of them. “They have existed in various parts of the world for many hundreds of years now. All we know about them in this Empire is that they are based in a temple community on an island somewhere.”

“Where?”

Raik shook his head. “No-one knows, Your Highness…”

“Raik, just Phillip will do when we’re alone. You may be my step-father soon, so we might as well get a little less formal now.”

The Commander smiled slightly. “Phillip, then … this island is only seen by initiates who join the Order and, as far as we know, one ship’s crew who are bound to the Order also. No-one has ever succeeded in following them, and yes, people have tried. They usually end up face down on a beach somewhere.”

“So what use is a bunch of monks, or priests or whatever they are, to me, to the Empire?”

“Well, it doesn’t seem to be just a temple, Phillip. They also seem to have a highly organized network in place for obtaining information, and they have strong martial traditions too. We don’t often see them outside of this island of theirs, but rumors spring up in different places from time to time, all suggesting quiet warriors who turn up, give some assistance where it is needed, and then disappear again. All these rumors have the words ‘Order’ and ‘Island’ in them. There are hints and suggestions of other activities; pacts and communications; we truly don’t know too much about that. Their loyalty is absolute, though. No-one who belongs to the Order ever betray it, nor do those who serve them … ever.”

“I don’t know,” Phillip shrugged dismissively. “It all sounds just a bit too vague and unlikely really, don’t you think? And why would Jenevra have found them when no-one else can? Although, let’s be honest, if anyone could get themselves into a situation like that it would be her.”

Raik sat back from the table a little, trying to decide how much to tell his future Emperor. He settled on the truth. “Jenevra didn’t find them,” he said quietly. “They asked for her.”

Phillip choked on his ale. “They did what?” That hadn’t been in the letter.

“They asked for her. They knew exactly who they wanted, and contacted your mother almost six years ago now. Just over five years ago Jenevra left here to go to the Island; as far as we knew to join the Order.”

“My mother knew? And you knew? What about Stephan, or Richard … or Christiana … did anyone think they ought to know where their sister had gone? You said she’d gone to a convent!”

“Your mother wasn’t happy about it, but we were told, very categorically, not to tell anyone where she’d gone—especially you and your cousins. You simply didn’t need to know, and it was a hard enough decision to make anyway. In all honesty what would we have told you? We don’t know where Jenevra’s gone, to whom or for how long, or even why, but we sent her anyway. You really think we could have told you all that?” Raik settled his forearms on the table and reached across to put one hand on Phillip’s arm. “Think about it Phillip. You know what you, Richard and Stephan would have done. You’d have charged off to try to find her. We couldn’t let that happen. You are the heir to the Empire.”

Phillip sat silently for a moment as he digested what Raik was saying to him. Hesitantly, he voiced an unpleasant thought as it came to him. “Did Jenn know where she was going … or why she was being sent? Did you give her a choice?” His dark brown eyes hardened angrily as he saw Raik’s expression freeze, guiltily. “You just sent her … no explanation? For Tore’s sake, Raik, she was only just fourteen! What were you all thinking?” Adding this information to what he’d read in the letter Jenevra had given him, Phillip’s heart churned as he contemplated what the last few years must have meant to her.

“So you think that this is genuine then?” Pushing aside the sudden wave of guilt that he hadn’t looked for her in all the time she’d been gone, Phillip threw the first pages of Dai’Nimh’s letter onto the table for Raik to read; carefully keeping the last few tucked inside his jacket.

Raik’s eyes widened as he saw who the letter was from. “You know you’re not supposed to show this to me, don’t you?” He carried on reading as Phillip motioned him back to the letter. Several silent minutes later Raik put the letter down, his face somber. “Has Chancellor Menzetti seen this?” He asked quietly.

Phillip shook his head. “I wanted your opinion.”

“Well, I’d have to say it was true then.” Raik picked the letter up again. “The seal looks genuine, and some of the information in there we know is true. I suggest we treat the whole situation that way; as if we believe it’s all true.” Raik paused, deciding whether or not to share other information he had. “Don’t dismiss Menzetti so quickly, Phillip; but don’t take his views on the Order too lightly either.”

“The Chancellor knows of this Order too?” Phillip was surprised. “For a supposedly secret organization, there seem to be a lot of people who know about them.”

Raik shook his head. “Not as many as you think, but Menzetti’s only son, Kian, was taken into the Order; and the Chancellor’s never forgiven him for leaving his responsibilities to his own House behind. He hasn’t spoken to his son since the day he left court.”

Phillip digested this news for a moment. “And you really think Jenn is one of them, too?”

Raik looked rather pained. “Honestly? Yes. I’d say it was the only conclusion we could draw from the information we have.” He shrugged helplessly at Phillip’s incredulous look. “I know it sounds bizarre, but your mother received word about a month ago now that Jenevra would be coming back to us; that her time on the Island was done for now, and that she would be returning as an Imperial Princess.” Raik held his hand up apologetically as Phillip started to object. “It didn’t say anything about giving her any position other than her natural one as Princess.” Raik sighed deeply, as he came to the part he’d heard earlier from Sergeant Brogan. “I sent Tessier and my Senior Patrol, to meet her. We knew where she would go to first. The meeting did not go well,” he finished with wry understatement.

“So I’ve heard.” Phillip frowned, remembering seeing a pair of swords on her lap in his room earlier. “You know she’s carrying swords now?”

Raik nodded, moving back towards the table to pick up his cloak and gloves. “We need to think seriously about this whole Imperial Protector thing, Phillip.” Remembering a scrawny young girl who had hung off his coat tails not too long ago, Raik sighed softly. “She spent a lot of time down in the training yards when she was younger. She showed promise then, and that was before she’d been trained on this Island. If she is as good as I think she may be, just bear in mind what you might let loose upon the Empire!”

“Do you really think she could be that good, Commander?” Phillip’s tone made it clear he was asking for a professional opinion.

“The Order doesn’t customarily accept women, Phillip. They have only asked for two in the last five hundred years that we know of. There’s something special about her if she was one of those two. I told you Menzetti’s son, Kian, trained in this ‘Order’. He hadn’t completed all the levels of training, but he is the only person ever to beat me in hand to hand combat. Jenevra, if that letter is true, has completed a higher level than that. If that makes her a better warrior than Kian then, one on one, I can’t think of anyone I know who could defeat her in a fair fight.” Laying his cloak over his arm, Raik headed towards the door. “I know this all sounds strange right now, Phillip. But, if we don’t want Jenevra going off on her own plans, I really think we should talk this through with her…and with your mother. Maybe tonight, after dinner would be as good a time as any?”

Keeping his own ideas to himself for now, Phillip nodded. “So you’ll be joining us for our family dinner then, Commander?” He grinned. “Just make sure you wear your armor!”

Taking note of everything Commander Rabenaldt had said and adding it to what he knew from Dai-Nimh’s letter, Phillip decided that one thing at least he could and would do for his cousin. Making his way to the Imperial barracks, he tracked down Captain Tessier. The two men knew each other well, but it wasn’t often that Phillip asserted his rank, and Blaise Tessier had rarely seen the grim expression on Phillip’s face as he approached.