Shrouded Sky (The Veils of Lore Book 1) (24 page)

“By the gods,” Edrea said, staring down at Tygg. “What could possibly justify this level of abuse!”

“Maybe your kind are soft on spies,” Pey said, “but here—”

“How do you know he is a spy?” she asked, turning on him.

“He’s cat. That’s all I need to know.”

Gage, who had been kneeling next to Tygg, rose to a formidable height. “As emissary of the Three realms,” he said in an authoritative voice, “I’m hereby invokin’ my right t’ inspect these here catacombs, and I mean every stinkin’ cell, until I’m convinced there are no prisoners halin’ from the realms.” He narrowed his eyes. “But I’ll be tellin’ ye this, Commander, whether there are or whether there aren’t, you’ll be answerin’ for this. I suggest ye start prayin’.”

The emissaries stepped toward Pey, daring him to argue. They had invoked their right, and there was nothing he could do about it. The Accords of the New Realm were iron clad. Even the Sovereign Lady knew that to dispute them could bring another war with the realms.

“Master Seth,” Edrea said, though her eyes were on Pey. “If you would please see to the prisoner.”

“Of course,” Jhon said. “Pey will be happy to show you around. Won’t you, Commander?”

Pey glowered, then tossed the torture tool he’d been holding onto the floor. “Of course,” he said through his teeth. He turned and strode toward the door, the three emissaries following him out.

Jhon rushed to Tygg’s side and knelt on one knee beside him. He placed a hand on his shoulder. “Tygg,” he said.

Tygg did not know if the person kneeling next to him was friend or foe. All he could make out was the shadowy shape of a man and a distant voice echoing in his head. He groaned and attempted to move, but pain and exhaustion doused any hope he had for retreat.

“Be still now,” the man said gently. “I’ve come to help you.”

The man’s voice sounded clearer now. And oddly familiar. “Or’n?”

“No, I’m Jhon. Orryn’s father.”

Tygg blinked, trying to bring the man’s features into focus.

Jhon rose and stepped to a nearby water bucket and dipped a ladle. He knelt back down and lifted Tygg’s head, holding the water to his lips.

Tygg drank greedily.

“We don’t have much time,” Jhon said, setting the ladle aside.

“Where—where is the Imela?” Tygg asked, attempting to sit.

“She is well.”

Tygg winced as Jhon eased him back to the floor. “But I heard her cry . . . in the cell. Or’n—”

“No harm came to her. It was only a ruse to keep her from Pey.”

“Ruse? How?”

“There’s no time to explain.”

Jhon moved his hand toward him, but Tygg shrank from his touch.

“I’ll not harm you,” Jhon said. He lowered his hand. “I have the gift of Knowing. Do you understand what that is?”

Tygg swallowed thickly. “The Nahanna.”

“Yes. Like the Nahanna.”

“Why do you risk yourself . . . for me?” Tygg asked.

“You aided my son. I’ll not have you suffer on account of it.”

Tygg shook his head. “My Qwa t’sei names it.”

“And this Qwa t’sei of yours, does it name you dying in this cell?”

Jhon reached out, but Tygg grabbed him by the wrist. “No.”

“I do not wish to force you.”

“No!” Tygg’s hand dropped. “Go. Please,” he said, and curled onto his side.

“I’m sorry,” Jhon said. “But you’ve left me no choice.

Suddenly Tygg felt Jhon’s hands grip him by the head. Visions flashed through his mind in a burst of changing colors: a blood-red battlefield, Nauney, Panya, images splashed upon the walls, history, prophecy, loyalty, life. A writhing sensation took hold, as if his memories were being explored, rerouted, erased, but then an image took shape he dared not share, a moving mental event as real as anything he had experienced, yet had not. Tygg’s mind struggled to escape the spell, but it was as if he were caught in a web, his thoughts re-spun as a sticky substance wove through and around them.

Voices sounded from the corridor, and Tygg recognized Pey’s amongst the others. “End this,” he begged.

Jhon released his hold, and Tygg plunged into darkness.

~~~

Jhon rose to his feet as Edrea entered the room. The emissaries and Pey were at her back.

“I trust you have done all you can for the prisoner?” she said, her eyes aimed at Jhon.

“Yes, m’lady,” he said.
“Not enough time.”

She turned to address Pey. “We are satisfied that there are no prisoners within these wall that hale from the realms.”

Pey nodded, but there was condescension in his eyes.

“As for the Taubastet in your custody,” Edrea continued, “we expect humane treatment of him until such time it can be discussed with the Sovereign.”

Pey did not reply.

“I trust you will make the arrangements, Councilman?” she said to Jhon.
“There is nothing more to see here.”

“But I need more—”

“While additional prisoners would be a benefit to your purpose,”
she said, cutting him short,
“there appear to be none to delay over. If we do not leave, we may be accused of overstepping our boundaries.”

“Of course, m’lady,” Jhon said.

They swept out the door, leaving Pey and the prisoner behind.

“We’d be grateful if you could arrange an audience with her as soon as possible,” Dar said to Jhon as they headed down the corridor toward the exit.

“I would prefer her funeral,”
Edrea added.
“But you know me.”

They hustled to the waiting carriage and took their seats inside, closing the door behind them. The driver cracked his whip, and the horses bolted forward.

“So how do we handle this?” Gage asked as the carriage bounced over the cobbled streets.

“The only way we can. We address our concerns with the Sovereign,” Edrea replied.

“And say what?” Dar said. “That we don’t like the way she treats her prisoners? Hmmph! Like she cares.”

“Don’t matter whether she cares,” Gage said. “Accordin’ to the Accords—”

“It would not be wise to threaten her over anything just yet,” Jhon warned. “Especially the Taubastet.”

“Let us hope Pey at least follows our orders and ceases the abuse of him,” Edrea said. “Poor boy.”

“You don’t really expect him to, do you?” Dar said. “The instant we walked out the door he probably marched right back and finished him off.”

“He knows our Sovereign Lady would not appreciate him causing too much damage to the prisoner,” Jhon said. “She generally likes to question the cats herself.”

“When you say question, you don’t really mean question, do you?” Dar said.

Jhon set his jaw.

“So did ye do the subjugation on the fella as ye planned?” Gage asked.

“I removed certain memories, yes, and blocked some of his pain. There was time for little else.”

“Perhaps you can stay her hand in his regard,” Edrea said hopefully.

“Orryn suggested we try to convince her to send Tygg to Adjo with the proclamation that the Pax has been terminated,” Jhon said. “That is most likely the only hope for him.”

“Do you think she will agree to it?” Edrea asked.

“Doubtful. But it’s worth a try.”

“But what would she gain from it? Nothing that I see,” Dar said.

“She might do it as a favor to us,” Edrea suggested. “Perhaps as a way to persuade us to go light on our report of the findings.”

Gage frowned. “Can’t say I want t’ go light on her, no matter what she agrees to.”

“Regardless, we must exercise caution as to how we approach her about the nullification of the Pax,” Edrea said. “She knows what we go home with will determine the position of the Three realms.”

“Surely she wouldn’t risk war with us over it,” Dar said. “That would be suicide.”

“Do not presume to understand the Sovereign,” Jhon warned. “She is nothing if not unpredictable.”

“Then what do you suggest we do?” Dar asked.

“I suggest you wait, allow her to summon you in her own time.”

“And when she does?”

“It would be best if you hold Pey alone responsible for the treatment of the prisoner you saw.”

“And the nullification of the Pax? Who do we hold responsible for that?”

“You know as well as I who is responsible,” Jhon replied. “But, for now, you must try to bring some compromise to the situation.”

“I’m still not understanding what this Tygg fellow has to do with anything,” Dar said. “Though I certainly sympathize with him, I can’t help but wonder if there’s more to his story than you’re telling.”

“Of course there is,” Edrea said. “But we cannot expect Master Seth to tell us all of his secrets, now can we?”

“The way I see it,” Dar said. “The more we know, the better our chances are of walking out of this alive.”

“What are ye sayin’?” Gage said.

“I’m saying we should take care not to give the Lady reason to keep us here.”

“You mean as political prisoners?” Edrea said, clearly appalled at the thought.

“Why would she want that?” Gage asked. “It would cause an all-out war, that’s fer sure. And with Tearia’s Guard, the militia of Oonayei, and the Basyl clan armin’ against her, she wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“I fear you underestimate her,” Jhon said. “Her thirst for blood is unquenchable.”

“But surely after so many years of fighting the Taubastets, her forces are in need of some rebuilding,” Edrea said.

“I wish that were true.”

“So we could have it all wrong then.” Edrea said, frowning.

“What do you mean?” Dar asked.

“All this time the Three realms have believed she wishes to avoid another war with them. But if she relishes bloodshed as much as Master Seth says, and I have no reason to doubt him, then all-out war could very well be her goal.”

“Are ye suggestin’ this is a trap?” Gage asked. He shifted his attention to Jhon. “Could the nullification of the Pax have been a means t’ get us here?”

“I don’t know,” Jhon said. “But it is a possibility. As I said, give the Sovereign no reason to question your purpose here. It might be all the excuse she needs.”

“Why are ye tellin’ us this?” Gage asked suspiciously. “I’d think a Councilman would want t’ keep that sorta information quiet.”

“Not all of us share her taste for brutality,” Jhon said. “While I respect the tenets Syddia was founded on, the Sovereign does not. The Council, while still powerful in its own rite, is not the final say in most matters. Though created by the Founders to give balance to the governing body, over time the system has been eroded. The Council still exists, but the Sovereign Lady keeps us in our seats, so to speak.”

“Are you soliciting our aid?” Dar asked.

“Let’s just say I’m willing to offer some of mine.”

The carriage came to a halt outside the gates to the royal compound. The driver conversed briefly with the guard, and they were allowed to pass through without incident.

“I will leave you now,” Jhon said when they arrived at the guest house. “To come in with you would only invite the attention of the walls. If discussion must be made, take to the gardens. It is likely the only privacy you will find.”

“That’s comforting to know,” Dar said with little enthusiasm.

The door to the carriage swung open. The driver waited on the other side of it.

“I will not be staying,” Jhon said, remaining in his seat. “Driver, you will be taking me on to my estate.”

“Very well, sir,” the man said.

“Thank you for the tour, Master Seth,” Edrea said. “Will we meet again soon?”

The driver helped her out.

“Of course,” Jhon replied. “I will arrange for the Council to meet with you by high sun tomorrow if the Sovereign doesn’t summon you before then.”

Dar and Gage climbed out of the carriage and turned to face him. “Until then, Master Seth,” Dar said.

“Until then,” Jhon echoed, and pulled the door closed.

Jhon had barely arrived at his door when a written announcement was received stating a Pitch game had been scheduled for the following day. All citizens, councilmen, and visiting emissaries were expected to attend, as were Pedants and Shield members, and the players assigned to represent them on the field. The entire population of Syddia took the game very seriously. There was no form of organized violence they loved more, other than a battlefield. And in that, Pitch was not much different.

The announcement that had arrived at the Seth estate also included official notification of Orryn’s reinstatement as Pedant. How his worthiness had been determined since the last time the Sovereign saw him was unknown, but the fact that Orryn was one of her finest players was likely the reason for it. Though his reinstatement was welcome on a number of levels, knowing he would be pitted against Pey and his team of Shield was a concern, at least to Jhon.

Pitch may have been a game, but it was a deadly one.

Orryn had reacted to his reinstatement with a Pedant’s typical lack of emotion. “I am grateful,” was all he’d said upon hearing of it, though later he had voiced concern as to the state of his blade, which the staff assured him was polished and sharpened and ready for use. As for Chandra, he now treated her with cool professionalism. The Pedant may have died in her arms, but Orryn clearly had no memory of it.

The family was seated around a large, rectangular table located on the sprawling back portico of the Seth estate. The evening meal had been served, and based on the amount of food on the plates now being cleared, only Orryn had expressed any appetite for it.

“Would you like me to bring after-dinner cordials, Master Seth?” a servant asked.

“Yes, thank you, Mim,” Jhon said to him. He rose from his chair. “I think we’ll take them in the drawing room.”

The servant bowed and left.

~~~

Chandra rose with the others to head into the drawing room across the hall. As she walked at Orryn’s back, she could not help but feel strangely awkward toward him. He had barely said three words to her since she’d awoken that morning to find herself in a guest bed, bathed and dressed in yet another of Tiersa’s gowns, blue this time rather than yellow. It worried her, not only due to the wide gaps in her memory, but because of Orryn’s aloof treatment toward her ever since. Though the details of what had happened the previous day were, for the most part, a mystery to her, there was no denying something intimate had occurred. And she felt sure it had occurred with Orryn. Her body ached in all the right places, and she had to clench her hands to stop them from reaching for him every time he was near.