Tinderbox, page 18
“May I invite Mila?” Seth asked.
She was the niece of Briwyn, who, as the duchess had said, was around the same age as Seth. The two had become best friends. “I don’t see why not.”
Bram set him down and he dashed off.
“I’ve heard rumors there was trouble Underneath.”
“I’m afraid it is much more than trouble,” Bram said. “I will tell you everything. It is important that you dictate the truth.”
* * *
The queen and duchess were waiting for them. The map spread out before them across the scarred wood table was like the one they’d examined in Underneath. There was food and drink set up as usual. Seth and Haeven sat on a plush rug near the expanse of windows, engaged in a game of Nine Men’s Morris.
Bram was famished, he realized, but he waited until they served the royal ladies. Isbet came in last, with Gaemyr strapped to her back like a sword, but offered no apology. If it upset the queen or duchess, they didn’t say.
“Highness.” The queen waved one hand and a servant stepped through the door, keeping himself or herself unseen until the queen granted them leave to enter. “These are the documents you will present to Wilhelm and these to the Dhar of Morwynne. They have my personal seal and you may speak in my name.” Another nod and a second servant entered, carrying a small chest. Inside, there were two rings nestled in satin.
“Take these as a symbol of our friendship and a sign that I take you as members of the Royal Family of Chira.”
“Thank you, Majesty, I am honored,” Bram said.
There was a brief hesitation on Isbet’s part. She looked at Aimeli. “My deepest apologies, Majesty, but I cannot accept this gift.”
Bram turned his head and stared wide-eyed at the young witch. To refuse such a boon was a grave insult, which would usually find the perpetrator on the chopping block.
The look on the queen’s face confirmed her offense by the refusal. “Are we not friends, Lady Isbet?”
“I consider myself your friend, Your Majesty, but I – will not pledge my loyalty to Chira.”
“Did I ask that of you?” The queen thinned her lips.
“No, Your Majesty, but will you not expect it? Will this ring not convey that message?”
Bram looked to the queen and back to Isbet. Didn’t she know what she was doing?
“It will convey you have my trust. Is that not good enough for you?”
“Aimeli, wait.” Briwyn laid her hand on her cousin’s forearm. Briwyn went around the table and approached Isbet. “I know as one with the Gift you have seen many of our kind who have sworn loyalty to a kingdom, and have found themselves in a rather precarious situation when your Gift no longer suits the needs of those who demanded your loyalty. You have my word that will not happen here. Will you take my word and Aimeli’s on this?”
Isbet inclined her head. “Yes.”
Bram had to keep from breathing a sigh of relief.
“If we break this vow then you have every right to retaliate, and we will not seek retribution.”
“Agreed,” Isbet said.
The release of the tension in the room was tangible. The queen said, “Trust me, Isbet. Trust in the friendship we have made.”
“I will, Your Majesty.”
Bram stepped forward. “We will return to Rhyvirand, and I will speak with Wilhelm. Then I will travel to Morwynne and deliver our message.” Bram noted his use of ‘our’ pleased them both. He wanted them to know they had his full support.
The goodbyes were heartfelt. Bram promised to return whether with good news or not and let them know of his progress. As they started their journey back, Bram rode beside Isbet. He couldn’t help but ask, “Was that worth it?”
Isbet raised an eyebrow. “I assume you mean not giving my allegiance?”
“The queen is a friend. I don’t see why it was such a problem.”
“You recall what Briwyn said?” Isbet said.
“Yes, but you realize neither Aimeli nor Briwyn would treat you that way?”
Isbet didn’t respond at first. She looked out onto the road ahead. “Are you familiar with Draydea of Innrone?”
“I believe so.” Bram furrowed his brow and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Wait, yes. She was a witch appointed by the duke and duchess to be in their court.” Bram noticed the faraway look in Isbet’s eyes. “They executed her because—”
“Because of the death of their son,” Isbet said. “She was in their court since the age of sixteen. Her Gift was the most powerful in the Isles. She believed the duke and duchess were her friends. Draydea thought this because she sat at their table, advised them, and predicted their fortunes. The duchess insisted they go everywhere together, and they dined and bought each other lavish gifts.” Isbet’s grip had tightened on the reins. “The duke even had a man executed who’d tried to molest her.”
“It sounded like they cared for her,” Bram said.
Isbet shook her head. “The duke and duchess had been trying to give birth for years and it seemed after a time that the duchess was barren. She pleaded with Draydea to help her but no Gifted, be they witch, sorcerer or necromancer, has the power to bring about a human life unless it is through dark means, and I assure you what was brought forth was not mortal.”
“There were many rumors after that.”
“Rumors that Draydea brought forth a child of darkness and it caused great pain and suffering to the people. Rumors that the baby came out deformed and died and the duchess went mad from grief. But the duchess had hired a warlock and when the baby came, Draydea realized what it was and tried to warn them, but they wouldn’t listen.
“They dismissed her from her post, but they wouldn’t allow her to leave their manor. She was a prisoner in a cell, albeit a luxurious one. It was a short time after that they found the child dead.”
“They blamed Draydea?”
“She had nothing to do with it.” Bram caught the bitterness in her voice. “But they imprisoned and tortured her, visited the worst atrocities upon her before—” he saw her shudder, “—they put her to the stake.”
“Damn it to the nether-hells,” Bram swore.
“That isn’t the only instance of that nature,” Isbet said. “It is bad enough when some brain-addled villagers want to take our lives because of what we are, even worse when someone you served and gave your loyalty to tosses you away like entrails.”
Bram wasn’t certain what to say. The persecution visited on witches depending on where they were in the Riven Isles was a common occurrence. It startled Bram when Isbet sighed.
“However,” she said, “it was wrong of me to include the queen and Briwyn in my suspicions. It did not differ from witches being judged.”
“I believe they understood.” Bram gave her a reassuring grin. “It was fortunate that Briwyn was there to stay the queen’s anger.” Bram averted his eyes. “Isbet, I also consider you a friend of Tamrath.” He realized what a risk he was taking by speaking the name of his homeland, but for once Bram didn’t care.
Isbet’s lips upturned; she was clearly pleased. It warmed Bram’s soul that he had her trust.
* * *
Although Rhyvirand was not his home, it relieved Bram when they set off to return to the estate. He was eager to speak with Wilhelm and convince him of the urgency of the situation. He had to convince Wilhelm to allow Isbet to be Seth’s instructor.
Not just for him, but for me as well….
Bram stole a glance at her. Triune, where had that come from? He admired the witch for her aura of strength and self-confidence. She seemed to live by her own complex code of honor, where she could be aloof one moment and the next show a deep affection for a little boy. Not to mention, she was beautiful.
I think Wilhelm will like her, Bram mused. Another thought occurred. Would Wilhelm try to use Isbet and covet her power? No, he couldn’t consider that. In fact, he already had the answer to his own question – Wilhelm would not and if he tried, Bram didn’t doubt that Isbet could deal with it.
There were no incidents as they passed through Tamrath. Captain Maive had been furious when she found out that Bram had gone Underneath without consulting her, but she didn’t scold him. She reminded him that Wilhelm would have held her responsible had anything happened to him. Bram offered her apologies because he realized she was right and that she feared her punishment more than Bram’s.
She kept a close eye on him during the journey but didn’t speak to him. She rode between him and Seth, to his left, for which Bram was glad since he wouldn’t have wanted Seth to hear Isbet’s story about Draydea. Bram supposed he couldn’t blame her for being offended.
Bram stared straight ahead, not allowing himself to meet the eyes of his people. He lowered his head as they passed by the cathedral. He tried not to wonder if Jaryl was watching. The aborted escape attempt seemed like decades ago. The only thing that kept him from breaking into pieces again was their task. This would be as much for Jaryl and his people as it would be for him.
* * *
Bram had long since ceased to care about the entourage. He lifted Seth off his pony and helped Isbet off her horse. Rajan had just dismounted when Bram said, “Rajan, we need to see Wilhelm now.”
Rajan said, “Yes, Highness,” and rushed off ahead of them.
Despite Bram not having said for her to come along, Captain Maive followed them into the manor. When they entered the royal wing, Bram entrusted Seth to his nurse. “Refresh yourself and have something to eat,” Bram told him. “I will visit you later and tell you what happened.”
Seth seemed to understand how important this was, “Yes, Bram.”
“Lady Isbet, would you like to refresh yourself as well?”
“No, thank you, Highness,” Isbet said. “We need to see the king now.”
Bram nodded in agreement. They continued down the hall. Bram figured Wilhelm would be in his private study this late in the afternoon as he would be through with the day’s petitioning.
Rajan met them coming back. “I see you surmised where Wilhelm would be. He has a guest and old friend of yours, he said.”
“Of mine?” Bram’s eyebrows knit.
“Yes, yours and Lady Isbet.”
He exchanged a glance with Isbet, who seemed as perplexed as he. She grasped Gaemyr and pulled him from the strap, perhaps in preparation for what they might find. He doubted Wilhelm would let anyone from Tamrath visit. The only other people they had been in contact with were the Chir and the denizens of Underneath.
He rushed past Rajan, not stopping to see if he and Isbet were following. The guards were at their usual places but the doors to the study stood open in welcome. The queen lounged on a nearby couch, dressed more casually than Bram had ever seen her. She watched her husband and his guest and smiled, her shoulder positioned so the silky camisole dipped low to reveal what would be a scandalous amount of flesh, in obvious invitation.
Wilhelm, as always, appeared relaxed as he showed off a pair of dueling sabers that were a part of his private collection. He presented one to the dark-skinned man who stood before him. The man held the weapon at an angle, running his thumb along the blade in almost a caress as his eyes locked on Bram.
“Ah, Bram, you have returned,” Wilhelm said. “Well, don’t stand there, come in. And this must be the lovely Lady Isbet.” He gestured. “Your friend Prince Serval has told us an amazing story. It seems we have much to discuss.”
Chapter Twenty-One
The stench reached her before she even entered the room. Isbet tightened her grip on Gaemyr, desperately drawing strength from him to keep the unpleasant hum along her nerves at bay.
Gaemyr made a noise of derision. “It stinks of dark magic here!”
That was a huge understatement. The air was thick with it, the cloying scent of corpses rotting in the sun. It burned Isbet’s throat and settled in her stomach, making it quiver.
Isbet couldn’t respond of course, and she could only hope Wilhelm couldn’t hear the talisman. Grandmother, it is worse than we both thought. What a fool this man is. Now, finally seeing Wilhelm, the man who had murdered her grandmother, she wanted to rush forward and strike him down with the full strength of her Gift behind her anger.
When Wilhelm moved closer, Isbet’s stomach clenched. She held Gaemyr against her chest.
“Don’t fret, I have you,” Gaemyr said.
She was doing the hells of a lot more than fretting. She clearly saw the aura of black blood and a putrid green surrounding Wilhelm’s body, concentrating at the center of his chest. A line of it flowed from the middle of his back, twisting snake-like across the room and through the wall. Something had hold of Wilhelm. Something Isbet knew.
Wilhelm embraced Bram and she saw him shudder. Isbet was aware that, although Bram couldn’t see the miasma that surrounded Wilhelm, he would sense it on a primal level. Bram would know it for what it was as well. He needed no warning.
Isbet turned her attention to Serval. He was doing a poor job of hiding his obvious fear. The smirk he’d tried to hold faltered as his lower lip trembled. You see it too, you son of a harlot. Perhaps you should have stayed hidden in Underneath.
“Lady Isbet, if you would follow us, please?”
Her attention was brought abruptly back to Bram and Wilhelm. She’d been so engrossed in her own thoughts that she hadn’t heard a word of the conversation. She had to take a moment to gather herself. “Yes, of course, Your Majesty.”
They stepped ahead of Wilhelm outside onto a wide circular balcony. Wilhelm closed the doors behind them.
“Sir, I don’t know what Serval told you—” Bram began.
Wilhelm waved a hand. “No, no, dear boy, no need for that.” He stepped forward and laid his hands on Bram’s shoulders. Tendrils of the aura reached out and brushed across Bram’s cheeks.
Isbet turned, pivoting on one foot, ready to bring Gaemyr between the foulness and Bram, but Gaemyr halted her in mid-step. “No!” Isbet froze. Neither one seemed to notice her actions.
“That person told me such a fantastical story and it was most amusing,” Wilhelm went on. “Of course, I didn’t believe a word of it.”
“Sir?” Isbet was as shocked as Bram.
“Really, son.” Wilhelm stepped back, folding his arms as he shook his head. “Did you truly believe I’d take the word of some bottom-dwelling whoreson over yours?”
Bram’s jaw dropped. He looked at Isbet for a moment. She wasn’t certain if he wanted her to say something. “I’m sorry, Father. Thank you.”
“The bastard’s muddled his brain,” Gaemyr said of Bram. “You’ll have to put a warding on him as soon as you’re alone.”
I don’t know if that will even work at this point. Still, she would try.
“Now, sit down, you two. I know you’re tired and hungry, so I’ll have something brought out.” Wilhelm was already striding briskly towards the door. Isbet moved towards Bram. She knew she was taking a risk, but she touched him briefly at the center of his forehead. She managed to lower her arm before Wilhelm returned.
“Isbet—” Bram whispered.
“Later,” Isbet said.
“Now, Bram, I want to hear what is true.”
They told him, and after a time servants brought out a cart of food with little cakes and wine. Bram told Wilhelm of their time in Underneath. Of the trouble that came to them and the battle they had fought. Wilhelm leaned forward in his seat and listened intently. The cord had followed them outside and Isbet could see it pulsing with the foul light as though feeding on the words Wilhelm was taking in.
Bram then showed him the messages from Queen Aimeli and Duchess Briwyn and advised Wilhelm that he had agreed to speak with the Dhar of Morwynne. Isbet had to admit, Bram was quite the orator; his voice was sincere, and not once did it have a pleading quality. It retained its strength the entire time.
When Bram ended his tale, Wilhelm leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingertips. “That is dire news indeed.” His eyes unfocused for a moment and a huge pulse of red filled the cord, then it returned to its original state. Isbet could only guess what that meant. “However, I will give much thought to how to handle the matter. I will say this evil, whatever it is, must be dealt with.”
“Thank you. I appreciate your trust.”
“You will, however, travel to Morwynne and speak with the Dhar. Present my case first and then you may speak with him about Queen Aimeli’s request. But be certain you convince him it is better to ally with us.”
Isbet saw Bram’s jaw tighten imperceptibly. Despite his feelings, Isbet knew he would have to do what Wilhelm said, no matter how dire the situation was.
“Now, as for you, my dear Lady Isbet,” Wilhelm smiled as he stood. “If you are agreeable to be young Seth’s teacher, I would appreciate it. There will be a healthy salary attached. You will have your own suite, and would you need a workplace?”
“If it pleases His Majesty.”
What seemed to please Wilhelm was Isbet’s deference. “Then you shall have it. My advisor Ancer Fallor will see to it all. Now then, would you please come with me? I would like to reward you for your service.”
“Your Majesty is too kind, but no reward is necessary.”
“It is as far as I’m concerned.” Wilhelm took her elbow and the cold threatened to pervade her. Isbet had to focus her Gift to keep it at bay. “Bram, you won’t mind if I steal some time away with Lady Isbet?”
Isbet could see he did, but they both knew he had to keep his own counsel. “No, Father.”
“Splendid.” Wilhelm led Isbet inside, through the parlor, and out the double doors. “We’ll pay a visit to the exchequer’s office and by then, your suite should be ready.”
