White Blood (25 page)

Tennelan frowned and narrowed his eyes. “What did you do?”

Carlich spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “What could I do? I approached Voerell. She and her husband Duke Whirter were more open. She promised to examine the treaty for herself, to see if what I alleged was true. If she agreed, she vowed to give me her support.”

His face hardened. “But a few days later she told me that she’d read the treaty and found my worries baseless. I believe now that in fact she was already plotting to seize power for herself. Her son had just been born, and was scheduled to be confirmed as my father’s heir, third in line for the throne. She manipulated Father to name her Barilan’s regent. Less than an hour after the ceremony fixed those powers on her, events occurred which thrust her into the office. Does it seem likely to you this was mere coincidence?”

Vinhor’s eyes narrowed, and his hand drifted up to toy with his chin. “Tell us of those events. We’ve heard the official account that Princess Voerell circulated, but I take it your version differs?”

“I don’t know what she’s saying, but I can tell you what I witnessed. The ceremony went off smoothly. Prelate Kiellan sealed Barilan’s heirship and Voerell’s Regency with blood. We all sat down to the feast. The first I knew of any trouble was when Marolan began to choke. I rushed to his aid, but it was no use; I was unable to save him. I was shocked, distraught. The Royal Sorcerer Rogelan determined that Marolan had been poisoned, by blood transformed with magic. He worked a spell to reveal the murderer, and everyone present clearly saw Princess Dolia’s face appear.”

Tennelan nodded. “So far your account agrees with what the regent claims happened.”

Barilan released Maryn’s breast and whimpered. She shifted him to her shoulder and patted his back. She had to keep him quiet so she could hear what Carlich said. How could he possibly distort the story to make himself look innocent?

Carlich clasped his hands in his lap, twisting them together as he spoke. “Voerell began to shout. At first I was too dazed to register what she was saying. But then I realized she was accusing
me
of the murder! She’d concocted some tale that I’d obtained a sample of Dolia’s blood and used it to kill Marolan. I tried to denounce her lies, but it was too late—she’d already convinced Father. Then she attacked me, and I defended myself. Father worked a spell to prevent us from harming each other. I truly believe that if he hadn’t, Voerell would have killed me right there. But his magic escaped his control and killed him.” Carlich bowed his head, to all appearances deeply stricken by grief.

Vinhor murmured a condolence. Carlich shook his head and held up a hand. Maybe his grief for his father was genuine, after all, Maryn thought. Froethych’s death surely hadn’t been part of his plan. Barilan rewarded her efforts with a burp, and she shifted him to nurse on the other side.

Tennelan looked away from Carlich, his voice gruff. “We felt when it happened. A wave of blue light washed over the town, all buzzing and crackling with the feel of sorcery. People were terrified. I had to send my men into the streets to prevent riots.”

Vinhor nodded grimly. “Shortly thereafter I began receiving panicked pleas for aid from people affected by the strange new magic. Quarreling siblings frozen mid;-;strike, parents prevented from disciplining their children, that sort of thing. I’d just realized that a blood relationship was the common element in all their stories when your sister’s message arrived and confirmed my suspicions.”

Carlich sighed. “Father wasn’t good enough at gestural magic to constrain his spell. But an incantation would have been too slow to stop Voerell.” He clenched his fists. “Gallows, why did he take such a stupid risk?”

“Parents will do irrational things to protect their children.” Vinhor patted Carlich’s arm. “Thank the Holy One he succeeded in saving your life. Now, please, go on with your account.”

Carlich rubbed his forehead. “I suppose you’re right.” He squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. “Voerell ordered the guards to apprehend me. Just then Barilan’s nurse ran to me, begging for help. She said Voerell hated her son and would kill him if she could. I realized Father’s spell would prevent Voerell from physically harming Barilan, at least for a while, but I could hardly leave my nephew in the hands of a murderess, could I? So I used sorcery to protect us. We escaped to the cellars, and out through a concealed passage I knew. Isn’t that right?” Carlich turned and looked full at Maryn.

Both Priest Vinhor and Captain Tennelan focused on Maryn, their eyes boring into her. She quailed beneath their stares. But Carlich’s spell was still in strong effect, so though she could feel the desire to tell them the truth, she only nodded vigorously. “Yes, your Highness. Everything happened exactly as you described.”

Carlich frowned at her for an instant. Maybe he was concerned that her response was too intense, and rang false. She seized on that idea, and tried to push beyond what the spell demanded of her, bobbing her head harder and faster. But neither Captain Tennelan nor Priest Vinhor appeared to notice anything odd about her performance. They both turned back to Carlich, dismissing her as no more than an inconsequential prop in his story.

Carlich shrugged, smoothly assuming again his persona of aggrieved innocence. “We fled, always managing to stay one step ahead of Voerell’s pursuit. As soon as we escaped the city, I set my course here. I knew I’d find allies who would listen to the truth and help me restore the rightful ruler to the throne.”

Vinhor raised an eyebrow at him. “You mean yourself?”

Carlich ducked his head. “Father disinherited me in the false belief that I murdered Marolan. Though I have no proof, I believe that Voerell actively conspired with Dolia to assassinate him, and therefore should have been the one stripped of her position in the succession. But that’s irrelevant now. The Kingship passed to Barilan. I know of no way to transfer the magic to another while Barilan lives. Perhaps you do, Priest Vinhor; I’m sure you’re far more versed in the intricacies of inheritance magic than I am. But if there’s no way to correct the injustice, I’m content to act in my nephew’s behalf. We can remove his mother’s malign influence and appoint some more loyal regent in her place.”

Tennelan rubbed his jaw, deeply troubled. “You’re asking us to commit treason against our lawfully appointed regent by taking your side in this dispute.”

Carlich looked shocked. “Not at all! I’m asking you to act against a traitor who has betrayed her family and country and seized power by murder and trickery. I ask only true loyalty to Milecha. Of course, I would warmly remember all who aided the cause of justice, when the crown is once again safely in honorable hands. King Barilan will need trustworthy men in positions of leadership.” He turned to Vinhor. “I think it highly likely that Prelate Kiellan was a party to the conspiracy. It was he who sealed the Regency to Voerell. At the very least he allowed her to manipulate him. Milecha would be well served by the appointment of a stronger, more dedicated Prelate, who wouldn’t be swayed from the Holy One’s service by political concerns.”

Vinhor nodded slowly, a look of satisfaction mixed with speculation spreading over his features. “I agree, Prince Carlich. I must say, I find your story most convincing. There were certain matters in the regent’s account of events that raised questions in my mind. Questions which you have answered to my full satisfaction. I am tentatively willing to commit myself to your cause. Pending, of course, further investigation on my part into the truth of your statements.”

Maryn’s stomach lurched. It was true, then. Vinhor was going to accept Carlich’s story and support him for his own selfish ends. Under the dampening effects of the spell she despaired. If even the Holy One’s servants were corrupt, what was left she could depend on?

Carlich nodded. “Feel free to do whatever scrying you like. I have nothing to hide. But I doubt you will find other witnesses who will be willing to relate the true course of events. Any besides us who were present and near enough to discern what was happening in the confusion have undoubtedly been dealt with by Voerell already.”

“I will keep that in mind.” Vinhor turned to Tennelan. “What of you and your troops, Captain Tennelan? Without a military component, we will have little hope of overturning Voerell’s coup and restoring the true government.”

For a moment Tennelan looked torn, gazing back and forth between Vinhor and Carlich. Maryn silently urged him to defy them. Her own thoughts grew stronger every time she made the effort to force them into shape. The spell had weakened quickly this time. Only the fact that Carlich had ordered her to notify him privately kept her from saying so aloud.

Tennelan’s face cleared. He rose from his chair and dropped to one knee before Carlich. “I am a simple man, my prince. I have no skill to unravel truth from lies, nor experience in the machinations of the powerful. But I have followed you on the field of battle, and you never led me astray. My sword is yours, and my loyalty, however you choose to direct me.”

Carlich rose and placed both hands on Tennelan’s head. “I accept the great honor of your service. Together we can save our homeland from the storms that beset it.”

Vinhor, too, rose, and signed both of them with a gesture of blessing. “May the grace of the Holy One guide us in all things, and may he bless our endeavor and lead us to victory.”

The words of the prayer fell like stones on Maryn’s heart. They all believed Carlich. If the Holy One himself blessed Carlich’s cause, his triumph was truly inevitable. Her one small voice crying warning would go unheard. His forces would march inexorably forward, and Maryn would be trampled beneath their feet.

Carlich bowed his head. For a moment all were silent. Then Carlich sank back into his seat, rubbing at his brow. “Forgive me. My journey has been long and wearying, and I have been forced to expend much blood along the way. If I might ask you for a place to rest, and accommodations for King Barilan and his nurse, as well…”

“Of course.” Vinhor rose and went to the wall where a tasseled cord hung. He pulled it, and Maryn heard a distant chime. Within moments servants appeared, and at Vinhor’s low;-;voiced directions hustled Carlich, Maryn and Barilan off.

Fourteen

T
he servants led Maryn and Carlich to the church’s guesthouse. Maryn had often seen richly dressed people entering and leaving the long low building, but she’d never expected to go inside herself. The lavishly appointed rooms usually housed travelers of sufficient wealth to make generous donations to the Holy One in return for lodging, or of sufficient importance that Priest Vinhor wished to impress them and win their favor. Maryn supposed Carlich and Barilan fell into the latter category. She was just glad to see a wide bed with a deep feather mattress and velvet curtains, and a hearth where the servants kindled a cheerful fire.

Carlich hovered, inquiring whether she had all she needed for Barilan’s care and comfort. Maryn felt the urge to tell him his spell was weakening, but as long as the servants were present it was not truly “private,” and she could remain silent. Before Carlich could contrive a reason to send them all away that wouldn’t seem suspicious, a messenger arrived inviting him to dine with Priest Vinhor in his private chambers. Carlich scowled at Maryn, but she ducked her head subserviently. Apparently concluding the magic remained strong enough, Carlich bid Barilan farewell and left.

Once Barilan was clean and dry, Maryn settled with him in a comfortable upholstered chair. It was such a relief to have a few quiet moments to focus on her charge. Amid the chaos and terror of the past few days there had been no chance for her to simply relax and cuddle him, let alone conduct any “playful interaction” sessions. Although looking back on their journey, Maryn considered it quite an accomplishment that she’d managed to keep him clean and warm and fed the whole time. Even Madam Semprell couldn’t fault her for neglecting some of her less urgent duties.

Barilan didn’t seem to have suffered for the lack. He always enjoyed the opportunity to see new places and people, if he could observe them from the secure refuge of Maryn’s arms. He’d probably considered their whole ordeal a grand adventure.

Barilan gave Maryn a wide toothless grin as he stood in her lap, her hands supporting him under the arms. His feet pushed against her thighs, until abruptly his knees buckled and he sagged. She scrunched up her nose and stuck her tongue out at him, and was rewarded by a peal of laughter. For a while she continued to make faces, his delighted responses driving her to more and more extravagant silliness. When Barilan tired of that and looked away, Maryn laid him down in her lap and covered her face with her hands, peeping around to let him catch glimpses of her eyes. He stared in fascination each time she disappeared and reappeared, as if she were performing magic as wondrous as anything Carlich could conjure.

Barilan’s happiness was so infectious that Maryn was able to lose herself for long moments in the pleasure of their games. She lifted him high over her head, his back arched and limbs extended as if he wanted to take flight, then lowered him to eye level and touched their noses together.

Only when the door opened and a servant entered, bearing a laden plate and full goblet, did reality return to the forefront of Maryn’s thoughts. Nothing had changed; their situation was just as bleak and hopeless as before. Yet her heart was eased, and hope, irrational as it undoubtedly was, replaced her despair. Somehow she would find a way to save herself and Barilan from Carlich’s schemes.

The plate bore a generous serving of roast duck and summer vegetables swathed in a rich sauce. Maryn devoured every bite, though her stomach protested the excess. As she finished, the servant girl returned with a delicate confection of flaky pastry layered with fruit and cream.

“Oh, no,” Maryn protested, catching Barilan’s hand to keep him from grabbing the plate the girl set before her. “Thank you, it looks delicious, but it’s too much.”

“We must feed you well, so that your milk may be rich and sweet to nourish our king.” The servant gazed at Barilan in wonder. “To think I can say I’ve served the king! My friends will never believe it. You’re so lucky to have the honor of nursing him. Everyone’s talking about how brave Prince Carlich was to rescue him. Was it exciting, escaping?”