Sinner (13 page)

He stood up. “So I have said and so it shall be done,” he stated formally, nodding at the notaries and secretaries. “This Council of the Five is formally disbanded.”

H
erme, Theod and Jannymire Goldman awaited Zared in his chambers. It was risky, perhaps, but they’d felt it better to wait there than lurk about corridors.

The three men were silent, apprehensive. None of them could sit: Theod leaned against the mantelpiece of the fireplace, playing with a candlestick; Herme stared out a window, his hands clasped behind his back; Goldman stood behind a great wing-backed chair to one side of the chamber, his hand resting on its high back, his fingers drumming restlessly.

No word had come from the Great Hall, although one of Goldman’s new-found friends among Sigholt’s servants relayed that the Princess Leagh had been hastened from the hall, her face stricken, and had not emerged from her chamber the entire afternoon.

Now it was approaching dusk.

What was happening? What had been decided?

The door flung open, and all three men jumped.

Zared strode in, stared at them, then slammed the door behind him.

“Nay, nay and nay!” he snarled, and poured himself a
drink from a wine decanter on a sideboard. His hands shook so badly, fat red rivulets of the wine ran down his fingers and pooled on the sideboard, but no-one noticed.

Herme glanced at Theod, then both nobles looked at Goldman.

“The taxes?” Goldman asked softly.

“Oh, you will do well, good Goldman,” Zared said, his tone harsh, and he gulped down half his wine. “For those residing in the West the tax has been reduced to one-tenth.”

Goldman visibly relaxed, as did Herme and Theod.

“But…” Herme said, noting well the anger radiating out of Zared’s eyes.

“
But
for everyone else the tax has been raised to a half. One-half!”

None of the others missed the new tax’s significance.

“Caelum must think you are made of diamonds,” Goldman said carefully.

“Caelum,” and the way Zared said it, the word became a curse, “believes that Askam has become indebted only because of his service to the Throne of the Stars. Thus it is only fair that someone else help shoulder the burden of that debt. Me, no less! I ask you, gentlemen, would I have received more sympathy if I had lost all my wealth in flooded gloam mines as well? No – don’t answer that!”

He refilled his glass and swallowed some more wine. “The border tax has gone. At least Caelum managed to right
that
wrong.”

“Nevertheless,” Herme said evenly. “It seems that only the Acharites must bear the burden of the tax, and of the debt Askam accrued in Caelum’s name. I assume the Icarii and the Avar, even the Ravensbund, will contribute nothing to its repayment?”

Zared shook his head. “The Acharites only.” He paused. “My friends…I tried to argue against this,
but…but,
gods, I cannot believe this!…
Caelum spoke such words into our minds that I am still reeling. He said this was only right as the Acharites had spent a thousand years persecuting everyone else, desecrating this land. We are repaying the debts of our forefathers, my friends, not Askam’s debts.”

Silence, then…

“May his liver burn with the heat of sunfire,” Theod muttered savagely, “and his testicles feel the nibble of –”

“Silence!” Zared cried. “Speak not against Caelum in this enchanted Keep!”

Theod took a deep breath and half-turned away, but if he held his tongue, then his fury was shared by all in the chamber.

“And Leagh?” Goldman eventually asked.

“Nay,” Zared said. “She and I must bed elsewhere, it seems.”

Again the three men exchanged looks.

“And our pride?” Herme said very, very quietly. “What judgment did Caelum make on the throne?”

Zared raised his head and looked at him. “Nay, my friend. What else?”

Then, in a movement so sudden and vicious it shocked everyone else in the room, he turned on one heel and threw his glass into the fireplace.

It shattered into a thousand pieces, glittering like raindrops across the cold, grey stone.

“In Caelum’s eyes, inevitably a king of Achar would lead the Acharites east with axes,” Zared said, his voice rising until he was almost shouting. “Slashing and burning and murdering until again we drive the magical races from this land!
There
lies his reasoning! Curse his reasoning, I say! Does he think I would bring Artor the Plough God back from his ethereal grave as well?

“Herme, Theod,” Zared swung about and faced them.
“And you, Goldman. I need to know how you stand. I need to know where your loyalties lie. With Caelum? With Askam? Or…”

Herme picked something up from a low table and walked over to Zared, holding the object out in his hands.

It was Zared’s sword.

“Our loyalties lie with the Acharites, Zared, and with the man legitimately born to lead them. Take the sword, take us, and take hold of your destiny.”

Zared stared at Herme, then his eyes slowly dropped to the sword.

“Whatever words Caelum mouths,” Goldman said very quietly, “whatever he argues, Achar and Leagh are still within your grasp. Once they are yours, you can right the wrongs done to our people.”

Zared reached out and grasped the sword, but he did not lift it from Herme’s hands. He looked about the room. “I pledged Axis my loyalty when I came into my inheritance, and then the same to Caelum when he assumed the Throne of the Stars. Must I now turn my back on my pledges and become another Borneheld to tear Tencendor apart?”

“Axis turned his back on the Acharites by destroying their monarchy and their pride,” Herme said. “Caelum has done the same by insisting that only Acharites pay taxes to save Askam from beggarhood.”

“Caelum’s disregard for the needs, wishes and pride of the Acharites is insulting, my Prince,” Goldman added. “When a town is on fire, do the citizens petition the mayor for permission to put the flames out? No! They see the fire and they rush to remedy it. My Lord Zared, the Acharite people are on fire and you have the ability and the means to douse their agony.
Do it!
”

“You will not tear Tencendor apart,” Theod said, with more wisdom than his years suggested, “but simply
rebuild its integrity. Only with Acharite pride restored can all races share equally, and bear the burdens equally.”

Zared stared long moments at his sword, then sighed, and picked it up, buckling it to his weapons belt with swift economical movements. “You three have encouraged me, now you must advise me. Our troops are stationed – surely you do not counsel war against the StarSon?”

“Nay,” Herme said, his voice now brisk. “Caelum has erred in not realising the severity of the situation, and the depth of Acharite feeling.”

“And so…”

“And so you – we – must do something to make the StarSon realise just how serious Acharite needs are.”

“Yes?”

“Kastaleon.”

Zared stared at him, then slowly smiled. “You counsel well. Kastaleon it is. If we seize that, then not only will it free trade along the Nordra, but Caelum will realise the need for dialogue.”

“And, of course,” Goldman said, “Caelum will appreciate that you could have done much worse. The entire West lies for the taking, but you content yourself with Kastaleon.”

“You have been wasted in the guilds, good Master Goldman,” Zared said. “You are a diplomat born and bred.”

Goldman shrugged depreciatingly, but his eyes glinted. “‘Tis the very reason I
am
Master of the Guilds, my Prince.”

Zared looked at the other two. “How
will
Caelum react? With dialogue, another Council, or with war? If Caelum raises the resources of Tencendor against us, we will be crushed within a day.”

“I think not,” Herme said. “Goldman spoke well. Caelum will do
everything
he can to avoid war. You will
be reprimanded, yes, but you will also be listened to. Caelum is not his father. He has not been trained and bred in war and he will most certainly not rush into it. Zared,” he said very quietly and with the insight of his years, “Caelum feels insecure on that throne. He will do
anything
to avoid a serious confrontation.”

Zared narrowed his eyes at Herme. Caelum felt insecure on the throne? He’d never thought about it, but it just might be true. Axis had been a superb war leader and an equally good peace-time ruler. It must be hard for Caelum to wonder every day if his subjects compared him to Axis, or to pause before every action to agonise, “Is this how Axis would have done it?”

Finally he gave a single nod. “What force does Askam have at Kastaleon?”

“Small, my Prince,” Theod said, then grinned wolfishly. “Tencendor
is
at peace, after all.”

“I want this bloodless,” Zared said. “I am, after all, only making a point.”

A moot point, my lord, Herme thought cynically, for we
are
going to war! His blood leapt in joy at the thought. War. Herme had been too young to participate in the wars that had gripped Tencendor forty years ago, and yet he had been trained for war all his life. He longed for it, and he longed to see the Acharites regain their rightful place in this new world that Axis SunSoar had created.

“I leave first thing in the morning,” Zared said. “You two follow in three days. I do not want Caelum to see us ride out together.”

He paused. “Leagh. I cannot leave her behind…”

“You most assuredly should not,” Goldman said, “for she will be as important a conquest as Kastaleon. But you cannot seize her and carry her off with you.”

“I was not
quite
thinking in those terms, Goldman,” Zared said. “What do you suggest?”

“I have the perfect plan, my Prince,” Goldman said, and smiled. “I will travel from Sigholt with you, and then head straight for Carlon to prepare the way. But you, Sirs Duke and Earl, shall carry a little something extra on your ride from Sigholt…don’t you think?”

I
t was late, but Zared could not settle. He moved restlessly about his chamber, picking up a boot here, a book there, eventually discarding them all. He had given Gustus his orders, and in the early morning they would ride out.

Ostensibly for Severin.

Zared would be very glad to get out of this Keep. Its bewitched air was all very well for the SunSoars and Icarii Enchanters, but Zared longed for the smell of the grass plains, and the homey bustle of Severin.

When would he see it again?

He sighed and decided that wandering about his chamber was doing him no good. He needed to see Leagh and, failing that, to find Zenith and ask her to give Leagh a message for him.

“I
will
fight for you, Leagh,” Zared whispered into the room, then he turned for the door.

The corridors were very quiet. Most people would be asleep by this time. Zared walked to the main stairwell and was preparing to mount to the next floor when Zenith appeared, coming down.

She halted at the sight of him, and Zared held out a hand in concern.

“Zenith, what is wrong?”

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes unnaturally bright, and her own hand trembled as she took his.

“I
am
Zenith,” she said, her voice almost harsh. “I
am
!”

Zared’s concern deepened and he drew her closer, putting an arm about her waist. “Sweetheart? What is wrong?”

“I –”

He gently folded her wings and stroked them with one hand. “Come now, Zenith, what’s wrong?”

Zared’s voice calmed her. He had always been a close friend, and Zenith trusted him more than most. But…“I cannot speak of it, Zared, Please, do not –”

The sound of feet drumming on the stairs above them stopped her mid-sentence. She and Zared looked up. It was Caelum, coming down the stairs at a pace that was almost a run. He crashed into Zared and Zenith before he could bring himself to a halt.

“What do you here?” he snapped.

“What do
you
do, almost falling down these stairs?” Zared asked.

Caelum ignored him. “Zenith, I’ve been looking for you. We need to talk. I don’t want you to think that –”

And then, before he could finish, the disturbed peace of the stairwell was further shattered by a roar of anger from the level above them.

“Murder! Murder! A
foul
murder!”

It was Isfrael’s voice.

“Isfrael?” Zared muttered. “Did he say –”

“Murder?” Caelum cried, then leaped for the stairwell. “His voice came from RiverStar’s room!”

Zenith roused in Zared’s arms. “No, no…Stars!
No!
”

Zared hurried with her after Caelum. By the gods! Zared thought, all of Sigholt’s windows and doors need to
be flung open to rid it of the ill-feeling floating about its spaces!

By the time Caelum, Zared and Zenith had climbed the stairs and reached RiverStar’s open door the night was still and quiet.

The faint glow of a lamp shone through the doorway, and Caelum strode through without a word or a knock.

He halted two strides in. Immediately before him stood FreeFall and Isfrael, both stiff with shock. Caelum pushed them to one side, then stilled at the horror revealed.

Behind him Zared’s and Zenith’s faces went slack with disbelief.

Drago knelt on the far side of the chamber, a bloodied kitchen knife in his hand. On the floor before him lay RiverStar, her limbs and wings flung wide, her dress torn and rent, her body smeared with blood that even as they watched puddled in dull pools about her.

Her eyes were wide, staring at the ceiling. They were blank. Uncaring. Dead.

Caelum slowly raised his eyes towards Drago’s face. As in his chamber when WolfStar had told the gathering about what he’d heard at the Star Gate, all Caelum could see was Gorgrael hurtling out of the sky, following DragonStar’s call. He remembered the agony of Gorgrael’s claws wrapped about his body. He remembered DragonStar’s triumph as he had thought he’d finally rid himself of his hated brother.

And now here lay RiverStar, murdered, and his hated brother crouched in undeniable guilt over her corpse.

All
could now see his damnable treachery. And
this
time, Caelum thought, we will finally do away with you, brother.

“No doubt I shall be blamed for this,” Drago said with extraordinary calmness. He stood up, but he did not drop the knife. His eyes were fixed on Caelum’s face.

Zenith pushed past Isfrael, FreeFall and Caelum and sank to her knees before her sister’s body. “RiverStar?” she said uselessly. “RiverStar?” Her hands trembled badly. She clenched them, then reached out and closed RiverStar’s eyelids.

“Isn’t there something you can do?” Zared asked, looking between the two Enchanters and Isfrael. “Surely…”

“There is nothing we can do,” Zenith said. “Nothing! The Song of Recreation can work only on the dying. Not even the gods can resurrect the dead.”

She turned to Drago. “Drago? What happened?”

There was a silence, and when Drago responded he looked only at Caelum. “I don’t know. It is as if…as if I can’t remember…”

He frowned suddenly, and looked at Zenith. “It is as if I have a dark hole in my memory. I heard Isfrael cry out, and I blinked, and here I was.”

Zenith went cold at his words. You too? she thought.

“You don’t
know?
” Caelum said. His tone was angry, yet somehow almost mocking.

“We found them like this,” FreeFall said, his voice hoarse with shock. “Isfrael had just joined me in my chamber down the corridor. We heard…felt…”

“Despair,” Isfrael said, his voice so even it was almost detached. “We felt despair from this room, so we investigated.”

Yet if Isfrael’s voice seemed detached, his body was so taut he appeared as if he would uncoil and strike at any moment.

“When we stumbled in,” he continued, “we found Drago kneeling before our sister’s bloodied corpse.”

“And so you shouted out,” Zared said. He shifted uneasily, glancing at the two small horns that curled out of Isfrael’s hair.

Isfrael swept his eyes back to Drago and managed to bare his teeth and hiss at the same time. “Murderer!”

“Murderer,” Caelum repeated flatly.

“No,” Zenith and Drago said almost as one.

“No,” Drago said again. “I did not do it. That I swear.”

Zenith reached out with her power, testing his response, and sensed that he spoke the truth. She looked at Caelum, about to speak, but her eldest brother responded first.

“
Liar!
You were ever the murderer! You tried to kill me, and you have finally succeeded with RiverStar!” He turned to the door and used both voice and power in his summoning. “Guards!”

Drago finally dropped the knife. It fell softly, almost apologetically, on RiverStar’s body.

“No!” he shouted, and Zenith winced at the negative reverberating around the room. You too?

“No,” Drago said more quietly, his voice surprising in its dignity. “I did not murder RiverStar. I may have hated her, but I did not murder her. I will
not
admit to something I did not do. But I do not expect you of all people to believe me, Caelum.”

His face was very, very calm.

Again, silence.

Then Zared spoke. “Caelum, the guards are here. What do you want them to –”

“They will take Drago and they will chain him –”

“Caelum, please –” Zenith began.

“– and they will throw him into the most secure cell we have. There,” Caelum’s voice hardened, “he will rot until this time
I
decide how he shall be punished!”

“Perhaps you would give him to me for an Avar trial,” Isfrael said, a gleam in his eyes. “I can ensure he would receive due justice.”

“No,” FreeFall said. “Leave him with Caelum, Isfrael. Caelum will see that he gets –”

“Caelum,” Zared interrupted, “Drago should be kept under watch, surely, but is there need for such measures? He has denied RiverStar’s murder –”

“
You
were not the one to suffer days under Gorgrael’s claws!” Caelum shouted. “How dare
you
preach to me how this…this traitor should be handled?”

Zenith rose, and reached across RiverStar’s body for Drago’s hand. It was sticky with his sister’s blood. “Drago,” she said quietly, “what did you mean when you said you had a dark hole in your memory? Tell me.”

Suddenly she felt an angry hand about her arm and she was wrenched backwards.

“You will stay away from him, Zenith!” Caelum said, waving the guards forward to take Drago into their custody. He opened his mouth to say more, but there was a step in the doorway.

Everyone in the room looked to see who it was.

Everyone in the room stilled, their emotions a mixture of fear, awe and, for some, gladness.

In the doorway stood Axis, God of Song, and his wife, Azhure, Goddess of Moon. Although they were dressed in simple robes, they exuded unimaginable power. All felt it and, feeling it, feared it.

Axis and Azhure – parents of RiverStar. They looked only at her body, strewn so carelessly on the floor. Both their faces had paled, and Azhure had a hand clasped over her mouth.

Axis slowly raised his eyes from his daughter’s corpse to Drago. “Do you know what I said to your mother, Drago, when she recounted how she had punished you for your part in Caelum’s kidnapping? I said that if I had been there I would have killed you.”

He paused. “This time I
will
see that you are put to death.”

Caelum stood with his parents in his chamber. They held each other, their tears streaming freely. RiverStar had not been the most lovable of children, and as an adult she had spurned her parents’ love, but that had not stopped Axis and Azhure loving her with all the strength they had, and that did not stop their grief now.

Azhure was trembling and still very pale, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. On one side, Axis had an arm about her, on the other, Caelum, both giving her all the support and love they could.

Azhure had struggled so hard to keep RiverStar when she had been but a babe in the womb. To see her so brutally murdered was almost more than she could absorb.

Axis was the first to recover, and he wiped his tears away with the back of his hand, and looked at Caelum.

“He must die.”

Caelum nodded. “He will, Father. This time he
will
die.”

They stood there a long time, holding each other in silent comfort. Then Axis and Azhure made their way back to RiverStar’s chamber where her body, now cleaned of its blood, was upon her bed. They were gods, but they could do nothing but grieve as parents.

They stood long minutes, staring, then Azhure reached out a hand and ran it down RiverStar’s cold face.

“Goodbye,” she whispered.

And then she and Axis vanished.