Shards of Time (5 page)

“And a fine herd of island-bred horses,” added Korathan. “They’re said to be a match for the horses of Aurënen.”

“Then they’re very fine indeed,” said Micum, a horse breeder himself.

“Now, to business.” Elani drew a folded letter from her sleeve and gave it to Seregil. “This is the report I received
from the governor’s secretary, Lady Zella. If you’d be so good as to read it out for the others?”

Seregil unfolded the fine vellum and smoothed it on his knee. “ ‘To her most Royal Majesty, Queen Elani, on the twenty-seventh day of Klesin. Honored Majesty, it is with great sorrow that I must report the death last night of the archduke, Governor Toneus. He and his companion, Duchess Seria, were killed while in residence at the palace in the old capital, which the archduke had been rebuilding in advance of your visit here.

“ ‘I am most distressed to report that the archduke died under mysterious and horrifying circumstances. When the door to his chamber was broken down, a scene of unspeakable carnage was discovered within. Both occupants had been torn to pieces in a most vicious and brutal fashion. I must beg your forgiveness for not going into more detail than that, as I can hardly comprehend it, even having seen it with my own eyes. At the same time, it was reported that another guardsman saw a ghost nearby. Whether this is true or has any bearing on the deaths I do not know, but I beg you to send someone who can make a thorough investigation of the facts.

“ ‘While Governor Toneus had established friendly relations with much of the population here, in the absence of a Queen’s representative, I fear for the stability and security of the island and your loyal subjects. I beg of you, Majesty, to send assistance as soon as possible to maintain your sovereignty on Kouros. Your most humble servant, Lady Zella.’ ”

He looked up. “She paints a dark picture.”

“And she certainly sounds desperate,” Micum noted.

“Yes, she does,” said Elani. “I’m sending Aunt Klia back as acting governor with a force to keep order, and Lord Thero as her wizard. I require your special talents to assist them in discovering the reasons and real means of the deaths, and any implications they have for our control of Kouros.”

“We welcome the challenge, Majesty,” Alec replied.

“I am most grateful for Your Majesty’s confidence,” Micum added.

“You were indispensable in that business last year, my
lord. And Lord Thero told me that you and Seregil have been the most accomplished of the Watchers for many years, and that Alec is your equal in skill.”

“You honor us, Majesty,” Alec replied.

Elani smiled. “You are very modest, Baron Alec. All of you are. You serve Skala quietly, without any expectation of renown. Quite the opposite, it would seem. That’s quite rare in my experience at court, and most refreshing.”

“The work is its own reward,” said Seregil.

“There aren’t many I’d believe saying that,” she replied. “But I believe you.”

T
HE
day of departure dawned cold and grey. A damp wind off the harbor whipped Seregil’s cloak around his knees and blew his hair across his eyes as he walked down Whale Quay with Alec and Micum. For an instant he felt a pang of anxiety, though he wasn’t certain why. Something tugged at his memory, but he couldn’t seem to remember what it was.

The flagship, a large carrack named
Courser
, rode at its mooring while sailors carried the last of the baggage and supplies up the swaying gangway. She had high castles fore and aft and looked solid as a house. It was a good thing, too. Even here in the relative shelter of the inner harbor moles, the water was choppy and flecked with foam. Three similar ships rode at anchor just beyond, loaded with horses and soldiers.

Klia stood with a small crowd of well-wishers near the
Courser
’s gangway. With her, as always, was her friend and aide-de-camp, Commander Myrhini. Klia was dressed in a fine traveling gown today, but Myrhini was in uniform, wearing the close-fitting doeskin breeches and green tabard edged in white of the Queen’s Horse Guard, with the embroidered emblem of a pair of crossed sabers supporting a crown on the front. A well-used long sword hung at her side and a golden gorget of rank glistened at her throat.

“Here you are, my noble lords!” Klia called, striding over to embrace the three of them. “I was sorry to miss your investiture, but I was away in Cirna, seeing to the defenses at the Canal. Peace is already making some people lax.” She
clasped hands with Micum. “Beka and Nyal send their regards.”

“Thank you,” he replied. “The queen is certainly keeping you busy.”

“It’s nearly as much work as war,” Myrhini replied with a laugh. “Less bloody, though, and we don’t go wanting at mealtimes.”

By the end of the war Klia—then a regimental commander of the Queen’s Horse Guard of which she was now general—had been gaunt and sunburned, but months of peace had restored her beauty. Her dark chestnut hair was drawn back from a sharp widow’s peak, and a few strands of it had escaped to frame her heart-shaped face in soft, curling wisps. Windburned color only heightened her beauty. Seregil had watched her grow from a pretty child to a formidable warrior and had always been proud that she called him friend.

Myrhini, tall and dark-haired, looked more worn, though her dark eyes sparkled with the old good humor as she looked Seregil and Alec over. “Barons, eh? What if this Mirror Moon of yours is some ramshackle old farm?”

Klia laughed. “I suspect my niece thinks too much of them for that.”

“You’ll see for yourself, soon enough, I expect,” said Alec.

“I’m afraid not,” Myrhini replied. “I’m staying here to command the Horse Guard in Klia’s absence. I just came along to say farewell. You two will have to look after her for me now.”

“Look after
me
?” Klia snorted.

Alec grinned and made a smart salute, fist to chest.

Thero and Mika soon joined them, dressed for traveling in coats and breeches. In such ordinary attire, the young wizard could have passed for the boy’s older brother.

Mika was fairly vibrating with excitement. “Are we really going to sail on that? Can I stay on the deck? How long will it take to get to the Canal? Oh, hello, Klia!”

“Decorum, Mika,” Thero reminded him. “You must address her as Your Highness when we’re in public.”

“Your Highness, I mean,” Mika amended.

Klia gave the boy a wink. “Once we’re under way, it won’t matter so much. It’ll be like a holiday.”

“A holiday?”

“Not from your lessons,” Thero warned, though not unkindly.

“I like my lessons, Master Thero, but I’ve never been on a holiday before,” said Mika.

“Well then, I suppose we’ll learn how well you like traveling by sea today.”

The boy looked from him to the ship. “Why wouldn’t I like it?”

The
Courser
and her escorts sailed smoothly out through the inner and outer moles. Standing on the stern castle, Seregil watched the harbor and the city on its tall cliff recede into the distance. For the first time in months he was excited, with something new and possibly deadly to look forward to. Alec gave him a knowing smile as they joined hands and leaned against each other, sharing a moment of mutually understood excitement. The slap of waves against the hull, the cries of the gulls, the cold salt breeze, a journey to a place unknown: it all spoke of adventure.

That, and the unmistakable sound of Mika being sick over the ship’s rail.

When the shoreline had faded away in mist and distance, one of Klia’s aides summoned Seregil, Alec, and Micum up to Klia’s cabin, leaving Thero above with Klia’s drysian healer, Yana, and her apprentice, who were tending to Mika’s seasickness.

The vessel had one finely appointed royal stateroom high in the stern, occupied by Klia and Thero, and Micum was bunking with Mika in a smaller one beside it. The rest of them had to make do with a larger passenger cabin below, the walls of which were lined with narrow bunks with railings.

The royal cabin had silk-hung windows, a poster bed, a small round table, and a sideboard stocked with bottles of fine spirits held in a rack.

Klia was at the sideboard as the others came in and took their places around the table. Selecting a bottle of brandy from the rack, she shook her head. “I don’t feel right, toasting the voyage, given the reason for it.”

“To the late governor’s memory, then, and to luck apprehending his murderer,” Seregil suggested.

Klia nodded as she filled four silver brandy cups and sat down between Micum and Alec. “Tell me what you know so far.”

“That the former governor and a companion were killed in some unpleasant manner in a locked room in the old city,” Seregil replied.

“Yes. The windows were barred and the door was locked for the night. The guards on duty are no use. One was driven out of his wits and is confined to the madhouse in Deep Harbor. The other disappeared without a trace.”

“But someone reported seeing a spirit, didn’t they?” asked Alec.

“Yes, just up the corridor from the bedchamber, at the same time that the screams were heard. According to the guardsman who saw it, it was the shade of a man, and it blocked his way for several moments.”

“Did he describe it in any detail?” asked Seregil.

“Not that I know of except that he was tall.”

“Is this man—the one who claims to have seen the ghost—available to speak with us?” asked Alec.

“Yes, he’s being held at the governor’s villa,” Klia replied.

“Held?” asked Seregil.

“He was desperate to get away from the island. Can’t say as I blame him, if he’s telling the truth.”

“Odd thing to lie about, unless he thought he was going to be blamed for the murder,” Micum noted. “You say he was down the corridor from the bedchamber? Was he within sight of it?”

“That I don’t know,” said Klia.

“What about the bodies?” asked Alec. “We saw Lady Zella’s letter, but she didn’t go into detail.”

“You know as much as I do on that account,” Klia replied.

The ships pounded up the coast, tacking into the wind to Cirna, which straddled the massive cliffs of the Isthmus that connected Skala to the mainland. The city was a major trade port and guarded the great Cirna Canal—a man-made channel that cut through five miles of stone to connect the Inner and Osiat seas.

The captain steered for the mouth of the Canal, a dark and deceptively narrow-looking cleft in the cliffs. It was flanked by two towering pillars carved in relief on either side of it. Each was topped by a huge smoking beacon supported by the symbol of one of the sacred Four Immortals. On this end of the channel, the left-hand pillar bore the carving of a massive sheaf of grain bound with a serpent, and the right one a coiled dragon crowned with a crescent moon.

“Do you know what those carvings symbolize, Mika?” Alec asked as they stood with the others on the deck of the forward castle. Thanks to the drysian’s herbal teas, the boy was his chipper self again.

“The sheaf is Dalna the Maker, the Immortal who tends to life and fertility. The snake represents forever,” Mika answered dutifully.

“Eternity,” Thero corrected. “And the other?”

“That’s Illior Lightbearer’s dragon, wearing Illior’s Moon on its head.”

“And what does Illior rule?” Seregil prompted.

“Illior rules over magic, madness, and dreams.”

“And nightrunners,” Alec added softly.

“And nightrunners!” Mika whispered.

“Very good.” Seregil ruffled the boy’s hair.

“He’s quite taken with iconography,” Thero noted.

The ships joined a few dozen vessels anchored outside the Canal. Klia’s flag on the masthead of the
Courser
and her sister vessels gave them precedence, and before long the towing boats came out for them. When the heavy lines were fastened, they were rowed into the damp, echoing confines of the channel.

“It’s your first time through, isn’t it, young Mika?” asked Captain Lira, who’d made a pet of the boy over the past few days.

“Yes, Captain.”

She reached into the purse at her belt and gave the boy a small silver amulet on a chain. It bore the wave symbol of Astellus. “For luck in travel, child. Keep it safe.”