Silverkin, page 9
“What?” Thealos said, leaning towards her. “You want to pre-empt them?”
Laisha’s eyes narrowed. “I need to finish the records first, Thealos, before I tell you anything. Chancellor, escort Thealos back to his room.”
“I’d like leave to see my family. Can they be brought to the palace?”
Laisha shook her head. “Not yet, Thealos. Soon.”
“How soon?”
She nodded curtly to Abtalion and he approached Thealos. “Come, Thealos. It could be a while yet.”
A knock sounded on the door and one of the Warders went to answer it.
A servant entered and bowed respectfully. “The High Council has decided, Your Highness.”
Laisha gave Thealos a wry smile. “That was faster than I thought.”
Chapter IX
"Wake up. Her Majesty wishes to speak with you.”
Thealos twisted over on the pallet and rubbed his eyes. He did not recognize the man standing over him with a candlestick, but judging by the night-robe it was not a call for breakfast. Thealos nodded and scooted off the pallet, taking a moment to tug on his boots and splash some water on his face. After drying with a towel, he followed the man into the gloom of the corridor.
“What is this about?”
The man shook his head. “I don’t know. She hasn’t even slept yet herself. I was told to summon the Chancellor first and then you.”
The two Crimson Wolfsmen assigned to keep watch over him followed like shadows.
Together they walked the carpeted labyrinth of Silverborne palace, down several wide staircases and through deserted sitting rooms and keeping chambers. The princess had ordered the move of Thealos’ location after the events of the High Council that morning, establishing him in one of the guest rooms in the upper floors. The Wolfsmen guards were stationed outside the room, but the interior windows overlooked a sheer wall on the front face of the manor. The scenery had changed, but he was still confined unless he found some way to fly.
The servant hastened ahead to Laisha’s personal chambers and rapped on the door. He withdrew, and Thealos entered alone.
Laisha paced the main greeting room, clutching her shawl with tight fingers, her arms folded. Her hair bounced as she whirled and faced him. Fury burned in her eyes.
Abtalion sat in a comfortable chair, poring over a huge leather-bound book with glimmering brass studs, shaking his head.
Thealos slowed and stopped, feeling the tide of tension in the room. “Why do I get the feeling that I’m in trouble again?”
Abtalion’s brow was wrinkled. He looked stunned. “I can’t believe what I’ve just read.”
“Believe it, Abtalion,” Laisha said, her voice close to a growl. She gave Thealos an icy stare. “I don’t like little deceptions. I loathe them. If you knew what was going to be in the records, you should have said something prior to the meeting of the High Council. I am very wroth with you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Laisha,” he said with a swallow.
“Don’t be smug,” she said, her eyes flaring. They looked a little bloodshot. “I’ve been up every night since you came here going tediously through the records. Tonight I found the reference you told me about. And the reference you didn’t tell me about.”
Thealos took a few steps nearer to her. “I don’t understand. I told you about the Silverkin. What other reference are you…?”
Abtalion leaned forward. “Where is the Sleepwalker that brought you to Avisahn?”
“I don’t know. Chancellor, please. I’m in the dark here. What in Vannier’s name has you both so worried?”
The chancellor cocked his head towards Laisha. “I don’t like saying this, Laisha, but he seems completely ignorant to me. Perhaps the Sleepwalker didn’t tell him.”
“I find it strange that I’m more cynical than you now,” Laisha said. She walked closer to Thealos, eyeing him with severe scrutiny. “The record was very detailed. The threat of the Empire of Sol-don-Orai had troubled Avisahn for a long time. The Forbidden magic they used poisoned the security of the Shae. In their great fear, they requested assistance from the Mages of Safehome. But there is always a price. It cannot be avoided. My father had to submit to a rite of magic called a Foretelling.”
Thealos nodded. “Yes, I know about them. I had one myself while I was in the Shoreland.”
“And what did yours say?” The way she asked it sent a shiver through Thealos.
“It was a vision of sorts. The magic showed me the past—what our valley looked like before the humans came. It showed me the fall of the Empire. It also showed me that if I claimed the Silverkin and used it at that moment…that I would die and it would be taken by a Sorian.” He licked his lips. “I chose to walk away instead of let that happen.”
“That is all the Foretelling showed you?” Her voice was riddled with doubts.
“I would not lie to you, Laisha.”
“Barters are not known for their honesty.”
Abtalion stood and started pacing. “Be patient, Laisha.”
“What do we do, Abtalion? The Sunedrion meets tomorrow.” Laisha’s voice was plaintive, almost desperate.
The chancellor rubbed his eyes. “Patience, my dear. I am convinced that the Sleepwalker knew what was in this record. If those erring fools at their Safehome keep records as well, then they would have a duplicate of the Foretelling. But…I am not convinced that Thealos knows. Look at him, he’s completely bewildered.”
Laisha’s shoulders sagged. “I wish I didn’t know now. This was not the evidence I needed.”
“What have I done or not done?” Thealos asked, daring to touch her shoulder.
She flinched and gave him a look full of daggers. He withdrew his hand.
“We might as well tell him, Laisha. If we tell the Sunedrion, which we must, the whole of Avisahn will know. Best make our preparations tonight.”
“What was in the book?” Thealos’ frustration overflowed.
“Tell him, Abtalion. Just tell him.” She turned away, brooding.
Abtalion scratched the back of his head. “It seems, young man, that your destiny is to upset this kingdom.”
All strength went out of Thealos’ legs and he caught himself on the arm rail of a cushioned chair. He lowered himself onto it, stunned past words.
“The Foretelling was hardly specific—it did not name you directly. I can only imagine how it must have baffled them seventy Silvan years ago.” His quiet voice played in the shadows of the chamber. “The Silverkin is a creation of magic by the Mages of Safehome. It is after the order of their strongest magic, the kind that can destroy any form of Firekin. It leaves the wielder sickened and weak for several days. There is even a warning that the wielder will die if it is used too frequently or if the channeling of the magic is too hard on the bearer. It was warded to prevent it from being used in Forbidden ways. Only a Shae can wield it—and only one from the bloodline of Quicksilver. That was very specific.”
“I know all of this so far,” Thealos said in a weak voice.
Abtalion smiled sadly. “I haven’t gotten to the Foretelling yet. The price for such a gift was high. Too high for the King of Avisahn to bear, actually. The Fortelling stated that when the Silverkin was properly invoked—when, mind you—it would mark the end of the House of Silver as the ruling family of the Shae.” He gave Thealos a piercing look. “Can you imagine then why the princess of Avisahn is a little upset?”
Thealos’ knees trembled, even though he was seated. “I did not know this was going to happen.”
“No, I believe you did not. But I think the Sleepwalker did. If he is from Safehome, as you told us, then they have begun meddling yet again.”
“Again?” Thealos leaned forward. “I’m sorry, Chancellor, but my whole life I’ve been given to understand that Safehome was a place that would return someday and bring the Shae back to Eroth. During my Foretelling, I saw a city emerge from the clouds over the Shoreland. I saw the Mages of Safehome…one of them sang. I don’t understand what it all means. But I have started to think that many of the truths I believed as a child were lies.”
Abtalion smiled and shook his head. “No, Thealos, we all learn truth in slices. What infant can swallow a whole pear? Certain truths are given to us when we are older…more able to understand them and their contexts. If your family worshipped Shenalle instead of Vannier, then these things would be better explained. The Mages of Safehome are a faction of Shae. A corrupt faction. Just because they named their flying city ‘Safehome’ does not mean that it is the true Safehome that will return for us. It’s part of the illusion of power they’ve cloaked themselves with. The Emperor of Sol-don-Orai had flying cities as well—though they were all lost after the destruction of his Empire.”
Thealos wrestled with the ideas. He had learned to trust Jaerod. Was that trust misplaced? The confidence in Abtalion’s voice rattled him.
“So you are saying, Chancellor, that the Mages of Safehome have a flying city like the Emperor of Sol-don-Orai did? What is their purpose then as you understand it?”
Abtalion sat back. “I’ve never known one of the Mages but their history goes back a hundred Silvan years. They date before the time of our first king, and my Elcorrel wasn’t even alive when Silvermere founded Avisahn in this valley. You were taught of the destruction of the Shae homeland…of Ravin-Dranath. Good, it’s a wise thing that we all remember that name. We nearly destroyed ourselves back then. The scar left in the earth over that destruction will never heal—not in another ten millennia. Our original homeland was destroyed. But the Mages of Safehome, who were the followers of Shenalle, took the records containing the purposes and methods of the Warders—of creating and empowering artifacts of Silvan magic. I’m sure the Sleepwalker you met had such weapons or artifacts with him. Correct?”
Thealos’ stomach twisted over. “He did.”
Abtalion nodded sagely. “The artifacts are of Silvan magic, for you would have been able to tell if they were Forbidden since you are Shae. Once the Mages of Safehome took all the records of magic, the Warders left behind could only pass on knowledge from master to student. It has been thousands of years since Ravin-Dranath, Thealos. Much of that original knowledge has been lost. Not every generation was able to teach all that it remembered. We have much of it—the Warders today are very powerful. So are the weapons they created for the Crimson Wolfsmen. There are other magics still that Silvermere brought. But I want you to remember this—the Mages of Safehome rebelled against the kings of the Shae. They refused to submit the records into the hands of those who, by right of blood, deserved them.”
“Who deserved them?” Thealos asked, feeling sick to his stomach. “The Shae do not have a true ruler. The heir of the house of Quicksilver was murdered.”
“He was. That is why Prince Silvermere left. He did not fight to rule a shattered kingdom. He left with those who believed in him and in his right. The other Shae kingdoms hated him for doing so. But their rulers were also murdered. Silvermere preserved the legacy of the Silvan way. Your forefathers, the Quickfellows, believed in him as well and renounced their rights. If you traveled to the East Kingdoms, you could claim any number of rights abandoned back then. But not here,” he concluded with a tone of finality. “Not in Avisahn.”
As much as Abtalion’s words sounded true, a wave of distrust mounted in Thealos’ heart. So many tangled motives. So much time had passed. Did Abtalion know the truth or only a slice of it himself?
“I can see why this coming to light now makes things… awkward, Chancellor. The Shae High Council just exonerated me of treason.”
Laisha’s words were full of venom. “Look at the Foretelling this way. When the Mages of Safehome left the Silverkin, they insisted that my family surrender rule of the Shae in Avisahn. Surrender it. I can see why my father never allowed the Silverkin to be used. The humans destroyed themselves. We did not have to use it.”
Abtalion looked over his shoulder at her. “But perhaps they knew back then that it would not be needed until now, Laisha.”
Thealos stood, steadied himself, and then started pacing on the other side of the room from Laisha. “How can these Foretellings be accurate if the Mages themselves are renegades?”
Abtalion stifled a yawn. “I don’t know.”
Thealos scrubbed at an itch behind his ear. “This does not make sense to me. Why will the House of Silver fall if the Silverkin is used?” His mind raced. Unless the House of Silver was based on some form of Forbidden magic that the artifact would destroy? Was there a Sorian manipulating Avisahn too? It felt outrageous, but what else could it mean?
“It could mean any number of things,” Laisha said, pacing. “If you used it to save our people, perhaps the people would revolt against my rule. Perhaps the magic has a consequence that will cause a devastation in this valley as happened in Sol-don-Orai, and we would be forced to flee the valley.”
“You are neglecting to mention a more obvious possibility, Laisha.” Abtalion’s voice was so soft it was nearly a whisper.
“What?” Thealos asked.
Laisha grit her teeth but did not stop Abtalion from speaking.
“My boy, do you remember what happened to the names of the ruling Shae families when royal houses intermarried?”
Thealos nodded mutely. The spark of understanding lit in his mind.
“Your family is the last line from the House of the Quick that I am aware of. Perhaps there is another in the East Kingdoms. I doubt it. If you married…someone…from the House of Silver, your children would bear both names. They would be Quicksilver. That would, technically, end the reign of the House of Silver.” Abtalion leaned forward, shaking his head slowly. “I cannot help but guess that your Sleepwalker knows this. That is why he came to you and not to us.”
Thealos needed the bench again.
“I think you’ve told him enough now, Chancellor,” Laisha whispered. She faced away from them both, staring into nothingness. She turned her head a little. “Go back to sleep, Thealos. If you can.”
Thealos stared at her, his heart churning with a surge of emotions. It was the first time since he had returned that she had used his name. What could he say? How could he reassure her?
“What will you do tomorrow?” he asked. “The Sunedrion will hear the representative of Dos-Aralon. What will you tell them?”
“Go to sleep, Thealos,” she repeated. “I haven’t decided yet.”
Thealos slowly rose to his feet, overwhelmed. “Perhaps you should sleep yourself. Thank you for summoning me tonight. I did not know…I didn’t…”
He stopped, not knowing what to say.
As he turned to leave, he thought he saw Laisha’s little sister peeking from behind some curtains at the far corner of the room. He stopped, looked twice, and recognized that it was her. He gave her a little wink and left the room without telling the others she had been listening in again.
* * *
Chancellor Tin Abtalion had served the royal family of Avisahn for seven Silvan years out of a ten-year term. He had known Laisha since she was a young child and had always admired and respected her intellect and her ability to make difficult decisions. Until this one.
“You mean to keep Quickfellow here and send another to Landmoor?” he said, repeating Laisha’s words to make sure he understood.
“I will not be manipulated by the Mages of Safehome. An heir of Quicksilver is needed to invoke the magic. My father made the same decision. The risk is too great.”
Abtalion was tired. He missed his warm bed and the companionship of his wife. “According to the record, your father sent a Warder in his place to invoke the magic if the threat could not be avoided. The Warder was Ravin Silversheir, a cousin. We don’t know what happened to him. You could be sending another to their death.”
Laisha bit her lip. “Then I should go myself.”
“By the Three, no! And leave Lucyanna to rule Avisahn? I don’t want to go through that again. One underage monarch is enough for any chancellor. No, the Sunedrion would never allow it, especially once they read about the dangers of the Silverkin. Using it could kill you!”
“Not using it could kill me. What if you’re wrong about the boy?”
“Boy, Laisha? Now who is the one being condescending?”
“I can patronize whom I wish,” she said, and he saw her temper flare again. “The banned Sunedrion has been pushing husbands towards me since I was Lucyanna’s age. I did not work this hard…earn it on my own to lose it now. I’ve barely reached the age of majority. I won’t be tied down to a husband before the first Silvan year is out!”
Abtalion kneaded his temples. “His name has been floating in some circles for years now, Laisha. You know that. You cannot deny that there are certain…advantages if you took him as your…your consort. What if the Mages of Safehome got what they wanted? What if they returned the records of magic? Think what that could do for our people. The benefits begin to outweigh…”
“My heart?”
He sighed. “You’ve hardly given him a fair chance, my dear. Why are you so opposed to considering it?”
“Why are you so intent on demanding it?”
“You already know why.” He looked her full in the eye. He had daughters of his own, but they were not as old as her—nor did he know them as well as he knew her.
Laisha buried her face in her hands. He watched, waiting. Silence was the best instrument with her. It always had been.
“This isn’t fair, Abtalion.”
“Neither was your brother’s death during the Purge Wars. We do not always comprehend the will of the Three.”
Laisha’s frown hurt his heart. “I’m not afraid, Abtalion. My brother faced the dangers of the Shoreland during the Purge Wars. If I don’t go and claim this magic myself, the people will think that I’m afraid. That I fear leaving Avisahn. I don’t!”
