She Who Has No Name (The Legacy Trilogy) (15 page)

‘I beg to correct you, Your Majesty,’ Councillor Madhaven, sitting several seats down, spoke up, ‘but Imperial edict signed by yourself states that a majority vote of your council must be gained before such decisions can be enacted.  This is against your own decree and cannot be permitted, by your own word and law.’

‘I actually do remember most of what you put before me to sign, Councillor.  I may not have Turian blood in my veins, but I do have the semblance of an education.  Despite what powers you have managed to wrest from me, General Ruardin can still make such commands in times of war such as this.’

At that, Madhaven swallowed his pompous pride and nodded graciously.  ‘Of course, Your Majesty.’

‘We
shall apply ouselves to your challenge
,’ Donovan announced, ‘and report our plans back to you on the third day.  I agree that we have been tardy, so I think I speak for all when I say we will commit ourselves entirely and prepare a plan of action worthy of the need.  Given the seriousness of the day, I suggest we adjourn this gathering immediately and begin our work at once.’

‘Agreed,’ Empress Lillith returned.

Chancellor Donovan plucked up the gavel on his desk and struck it on its block, making a resounding crack that sounded the end of the meeting.

The congregation rose and began to meander out.  Samuel was doing the same when he noticed a disturbance in the crowd beside Master Celios.  He pushed his way through to see what was happening, with Goodfellow following closely behind, and found a tussle going on between Celios, his attendant and an agitated woman.  The two men were doing their best to keep her quiet, but the woman was bawling and struggling against the both of them.

‘Give me back my husband!’ she was wailing, and the parting crowd regarded the scene with a mix of curiosity and disdain.

‘Keep your hands off him, my good woman!’ Celios instructed and he finally managed to pull the woman away from his indignant attendant.  ‘Your husband is busy with his duties.  Return to your chambers!’

‘That is all I have heard every day!  When will he return to me?  I have not seen him in months.  My husband has been taken from me!’

‘He is not taken, you foolish woman!’ Celios said angrily.  ‘Open your eyes.  We all must make sacrifices in these days of turmoil.  Go home and be patient.’

With that, some younger maidservants helped the desperate woman away.  Celios’ attendant patted his clothes back into place and had to tuck his ruffled shirt back into his pants.

‘Who is that man?’ Samuel asked of Goodfellow.

‘I understand it is Sir Ferse.  He has been assigned to take care of Master Celios, while our seer struggles with his...difficulties.’

‘Sir Ferse?  But why would a Lord of the court be relegated to such subservient duties?’

‘I have no idea,’ Goodfellow responded.  ‘There are so many strange things happening these days, I have given up asking questions.’

‘That sounds like good sense.  I think I shall do the same,’ Samuel said and they pushed their way out of the room and set about to find their lunch.

It was mid-morning of the second day after the Empress’ ultimatum and Samuel was once again resting in
his
tower
room
high above the city.  He had been feeling glum since the loss of Master Glim and was content to remain alone with his thoughts in his room, while the palace pondered its fate.  He had just been peering out the window, lured by some disturbance far below, when Goodfellow burst in without a pause, bearing bad news.

‘The Empress has vanished!’ he declared. 

‘What are you talking about?’ Samuel asked at once.

‘She retired to her chambers
yesterday evening
and that was the last that was seen of her.  She and her son have both disappeared.’

Samuel was beyond belief.  ‘How could she disappear?  She must be in the palace somewhere.’

‘She’s not in the palace.  They’ve looked everywhere.’

‘Did they look in the dungeons?’ Samuel asked.

‘Everywhere,’ Goodfellow replied.  ‘They’ve scoured the palace with hounds already and there is not a scent of her to be found.’

‘Magic?’

‘Nothing.  Not a spell in sight.  It looks like the palace was somehow infiltrated and she was bundled away, along with Leopold.  General Ruardin is having a fit and is going through the palace staff like a wildfire.  So far, no one seems to have seen anything and no one
else
is missing.’

Samuel drew his cloak from the wall.  ‘Then let’s go and see if we can help.  Things just keep getting worse and worse, don’t they?’

The palace was
,
indeed
,
in a frenzy as they made through the halls.  Guards were present at every intersection and doorway, scrutinising everyone who passed.  They even stopped the two magicians, asking their names and checking them against a list, which in itself was a sign of the extreme situation.

When they finally tracked down Grand Master Anthem, he was in a small meeting room with General Ruardin and Chancellor Donovan.  Several other scribes were sitting in front of a bundle of papers, furiously sorting and scribbling on the piles before them.  The door was open, and messengers and soldiers were filing in and out, making reports and receiving instructions.  It seemed they had quickly established a plan of operation and the three men were busy with maps of the city,
making
mark
s
here and there as they received reports.  Either
,
the three of them had agreed to cooperate for the sake of the Empress, or they were stubbornly competing to command the search—Samuel was not sure.

‘We just heard,’ said Samuel.  ‘Is there something we can do?’

‘Not just yet,’ Anthem replied, ‘but it’s good you came.  Wait here for instructions.  I’m sure we will have use for you shortly.  We have the whole city to scour, but we need to prepare for the fact that the Empress and young Leopold may already be beyond the walls.’

‘You don’t think they could have been murdered, do you?’ Goodfellow asked and General Ruardin almost speared him with a pointed stare.

‘We haven’t come to that conclusion yet.  Everything points to a kidnapping, as there has been neither blood
found
nor body recovered.’

Just then, one of the captains from the Royal Guard came whispering into Chancellor Donovan’s ear.  As the soldier rushed back out, Donovan turned to them all with a look of concern.  ‘They’ve just found something in the harbour.’

‘What is it?’ Ruardin asked.

‘A ship
,
a monstrous ship beyond anything our harbour-men have ever seen.’

‘Where did it come from?’ Anthem asked the man.

‘No one knows,’ Donovan replied.  ‘It seems it must have come into the harbour overnight.  Everyone has been asked to keep their distance until we can send someone to investigate.  Apparently, the ship has floated into the harbour by chance, although such a thing seems remarkable.  Its sails are gone and it’s in quite a state, from what I have just been told.  The harbour-men are calling it a ghost ship.  They are requesting the aid of the Order, just in case.  At a time like this, it seems almost certainly connected with the kidnapping.  At the very least, we cannot discount the fact until it has been investigated.’

Grand Master Anthem turned his attention to Samuel and Goodfellow.  ‘Do you remember me saying you may be needed?’

Coursing across the harbour brought back memories of the night the Merry Widow had been stricken upon the rocks.  Samuel was only thankful that it was daylight, as in his opinion the only thing worse than being at sea was being at sea at night, even if they were within the safety of the harbour. 

Grand Master Gallivan, standing alone in his magic-driven vessel, led their tiny fleet, while Samuel and the Erics were huddled in another with oarsmen driving them forward.  From the moment he first sighted the monstrous vessel far ahead, an awful feeling—a dreaded foreboding—sat deep in the pit of Samuel’s stomach.  As they neared, he could see the ship was as thick as five of the Empire’s greatest ships stacked side by side, and longer than seven or eight.  It towered above the other vessels, as if a fortress had been somehow
erected
on water.  Imperial ships had already been brought alongside; each looking dwarfed as they waited beside it.  Each craft sat patiently—not too close to the mysterious vessel—waiting for the magicians to come.

The longboats arrived at the side of the ship and Samuel had to crane his neck to look up at it, almost as if the walls of some floating city lay above him.  A few soldiers went first, standing in their boats and throwing their hooks up over the side.  It took them several attempts
,
for few of the men had a strong enough arm to reach the top.  They scaled up and, after a few quiet moments, a number of roped ladders they had carried with them came tumbling over the side.

The soldiers in the other longboats began scampering up, while the three magicians sat looking at each other expectantly.

‘Right,’ Goodfellow said nervously.  ‘Who’s first?’

‘I’ll go,’ Eric Pot added and stood, careful not to rock the boat.  He put his foot onto the first rung and started to climb the treacherous wooden slats with Samuel following after him.  They had said nothing to
each other during
the whole trip across the bay and Samuel was thankful to be out of the little boat, if only for that reason.

Clambering over the rails and onto the deck of the ship, Samuel began to believe this truly was a ghost ship.  There was no sign of any sails
attached to
the masts
, which themselves were
broken and
missing great
chunks.  Holes and scorch marks covered the decking, as if the ship had barely survived some heated battle.  Goodfellow came up behind him, adjusting his spectacles and swallowing nervously at the scene. 

Grand Master Gallivan began inspecting the decks, sending out scores of spells to investigate, while more soldiers climbed aboard.  Many stood with their weapons ready, faces looking somewhat pale.

Finally, the commanding officer for the men, Captain Riggadardian, scrambled over the side railing and began looking about without worry or hurry, patting his uniform back into place.  Samuel had had little to do with the man previously.  He seemed a tad too sure of himself, as Turians commonly did, but rumour had it he was a capable commander.

‘Report!’ Riggadardian commanded.

‘Nothing yet, Sir!’ one of his men shouted back.  ‘It looks abandoned and has seen extensive battle.  I’d say it’s also been at sea a long time—several months at least.  There are entrances to below decks fore, aft and middle, and several doors leading into the deckhouses.  This thing is enormous, but it’s in terrible shape.  I don’t know who built it or where it came from, but it’s seen better days.’

‘Magicians, what do you sense?’ the captain asked.

Samuel and the two Erics walked over to where
the c
aptain and
Gallivan stood together.

‘I can sense people below the deck.  Not many.  No magicians,’ Gallivan said, eyeing the towering structures of the ship.  ‘No one above.’

‘Scour the rooms one by one,’ Riggadardian called aloud.  ‘Leave no speck of vessel hidden.’

Just then
,
a door creaked open and magicians and soldiers alike turned to see some figures stepping out onto the decks.  It was a small group of men and women, emaciated and thin.  They shuffled out, seven in total, heedless to the swords raised towards them, and they waited, keeping their eyes to the floor.

‘What is this?’ Riggadardian whispered to Gallivan beside him.

‘They are unarmed, Captain,’ the magician responded, ‘and obviously in no state to cause us harm.’

‘Any more of them?’ the tight-bearded captain asked.