Shadowblood

Chapter Seventeen

“What do you think?” Rik asked.

“About what?” Asea replied. Tamara had been taken from the tent in chains, and was now under guard by the Foragers. Rik hoped they would not do anything stupid. The last time Tamara had encountered the Barbarian and Weasel, she had left the big man badly wounded. He was not normally the sort to be vindictive but you never knew. His pride had been hurt by being overcome by what he would describe as a slip of a girl.

“About Tamara.”

“I honestly have no idea, Rik. She seems sincere but she might have been sent here on some mission by the Empress or Xephan. She might have been sent to find out what we know or what we suspect. She could have been sent here to kill any one of us.”

“Do you think that’s likely?”

“If she had been sent on an assassination mission it would be much easier for her to simply wait in the shadows for an opportune moment then strike. No, it’s something deeper than that.”

“Or she’s telling the truth.”

“I do not entirely discount that possibility.”

“Can you probe her mind?”

“She is too good a sorceress for that. She will be protected. There’s no way of doing that without smashing her sanity. And if she is telling the truth I would rather not do it. I would prefer to have her on my side.”

“Do you think that she really will train me?”

“If she has not been sent to kill you, it’s possible she’s been sent to win you to her side. Or to corrupt you.”

“I doubt she could do that.”

“You do not know what she is capable of, or what powers she might possess.”

“I meant I doubt that she could make me any more corrupt than I already am.”

“She might surprise you.” A look of concern passed over Asea’s face. “Do not hate yourself, Rik. You are not responsible for what happened with the Quan.”

“If I am not, who is?”

Rik felt compelled to mention the other question that was praying on his mind. “I am surprised she agreed to the chains so easily.”

“So am I, Rik. I am starting to wonder what Tamara may have up her sleeve.”

“What has happened to your prisoner?” asked Inquisitor Joran.

“I have her under lock and key.”

Rik did not like the interest the High Inquisitor was showing in Tamara. He seemed far too eager to get his hands on her. Of course, it was possible he was simply curious. The whole army was since Tamara had made her spectacular arrival on dragonback. Rumours abounded, that she was a royal Princess come to aid them, that she was a sorceress who knew something about the plague, that she was an Emissary of the Dragon Angel sent to tell them about the righteousness of their cause. Soldiers were worse than old women for gossiping and just as capable of spinning a story out of events they had witnessed.

“I would like to talk to her,” said Joran. At least he was being polite to Asea. He was not making demands, not asking that the prisoner be given over to him and his people for questioning. He seemed more subdued now that they were on the march. He most likely realised that Asea was more valuable to the army than he was and that her half-brother was in command. He was certainly capable of being diplomatic when he wanted to be.

“Of course,” Asea responded. “As soon as I have made sure that she is no threat to us.”

“In what way could she be a threat?”

“There could be some spell embedded in her body, of pestilence, or contagion or death. Or perhaps a curse.”

“The Lady Tamara is a high noble of Sardea. Surely no one would think of using her in such a fashion.”

Asea looked at the Inquisitor coldly. “Terrible sorcery is being used to cause this plague of walking dead.”

“But you have already been exposed to her.”

“All the more reason that no one else is until I have ascertained whether she is spellbound or not.”

“I am willing to risk myself. The Light protects its own.”

“I am unwilling to put you at risk. If anything should happen to me, you will be needed more than ever. Rest assured I will tell you everything I find out, and let you know as soon as I am certain it is safe.”

“How long will that take?”

“You will know by this evening. I do not think that is too long to wait in a case like this.”

Anger flickered across the Inquisitor’s face. He was not pleased but he did not seem prepared to push things at this moment so he bowed courteously and said. “Very well,” he said. “I shall return in at the sixth bell.”

Tamara lay in the cellar of the abandoned farmhouse to which she had been transferred, staring at the ceiling, considering what had occurred. The place was damp and the air smelled of mould. The weight of the truesilver fetters lay heavy on her and she found it oddly disturbing that she could not invoke her powers. It made her feel terribly vulnerable.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Asea entered the room. Karim was with her and Rik. They were all armed and looked ready for violence. Tamara could not help herself. “It’s flattering to know that you have such high regard for how dangerous I am,” she said.

“Flattering or not, it is the case — although in those chains your fangs are well and truly drawn.” There was an utter glacial certainty in Asea’s voice. She looked totally confident.

“Are you sure?” Tamara asked. She could not help herself. There was something about Asea’s manner that got on her nerves. She was tempted to spring at her. She knew many ways of killing with her bare hands. She wanted to wipe that smug look from Asea’s face. If the price was her life…

She pushed the madness to one side. Such an attack was the option of last resort and would most likely fail. Karim knew as much as she did about unarmed killing and was prepared for any attack. The signs were written all over him.

And then there was Rik, an unknown quantity if ever there was one. He was loyal to Asea and he had killed her father, as dangerous a Terrarch as ever lived.

The realisation struck her that all her reservations masked a much deeper truth, one that explained her instinctive reaction. She was afraid of Asea, and she had not encountered many things that frightened her in this life. Of all the people in this world, Asea must know what she was capable of, and yet she stood in front of her unafraid. If Tamara had not loathed her, she would have admired her, and she was self aware enough to know that was just one more component of her fear.

Whatever she might claim Asea did not fear her, even knowing things about her that would have terrified other Terrarchs. Well, Tamara had faced overconfident foes in the past. As with Rik, people tended to underestimate her. Unlike with Rik, that was usually because she willed it.

“You will soon have another visitor, a Terrarch named Joran,” said Asea.

“The High Inquisitor?”

“In person.”

“What does he want?”

“To question you.”

“What shall I tell him?”

“The truth insofar as it does not compromise you. Tell him what you know.”

“That I attempted to assassinate Xephan- he might wonder how I escaped.”

“You do not need to tell him you made the attempt in person.”

“Then how will I convince him about the possession.”

“You have heard rumours, talked with people who have seen strange things. Dark sorcery is taking place in Askander. Tell him that.”

“He will suspect me of lying.”

“Of course he will. He is an Inquisitor. But better that he suspects you of untruths about your sources than of being what you are.”

“He might decide to put me to the question.”

“You are my guest. That means you are under my protection.”

“And you are under Lord Azaar’s protection.”

“Your grasp of the situation is admirably quick.”

Tamara considered what she would have to say. It would be easiest to appear somewhat stupider than she was, and more vicious and ambitious. She had encountered plenty of Terrarch women who were and had perfected blending in among them. On the other hand, she had flown away on a dragon which bespoke a certain amount of daring.

Of course, she was distant kin to the Empress. She could claim that Arachne was corrupt and she intended to replace her. That would excuse her taking on the royal privileges at least in the eyes of a monumentally ambitious Terrarch. That would make her seem sufficiently self-justifying. Tamara wondered whether the idea had been lounging around at the back of her mind waiting for an opportunity to present itself. That was fine though, playing a role was always more convincing when there was something of yourself in it.

“What if he asks me about these chains?" She could not resist aiming that small barb.

Asea’s smile was alarming. “Tell him the truth. That I do not trust you and I suspect you of being a sorceress.”

“Isn’t that against the law to bind a fellow Terrarch without Royal permission?”

“So is riding a dragon if you are not the Empress. But we are at war. A lot can be forgiven under those circumstances.”

“This might come back to haunt you in the future,” said Tamara. It was the only small consolation she could find in the situation.

“It won’t be the first time,” said Asea, “and I doubt that it will be the last. Come now, let us meet the Inquisitor. He is very keen to meet you.”

“Lady Tamara,” said Inquisitor Joran. “I trust you are well?”

Joran did not fit Tamara’s preconceptions of what a High Inquisitor should be like. He was affable, relaxed and charming. He wore no ceremonial robes or military uniform. He could have been any high noble who had attached himself to the army as spectator.

“As well as can be expected under the circumstances.”

Joran studied their surroundings and wrinkled his nose fastidiously. “I suspect you are used to better accommodations than this.”

“Moderately.”

“They are actually rather good compared to some of the places I have seen. Many troops are billeted in roofless houses. No one is exactly comfortable.”

“I think I might enjoy sleeping under the stars.”

“Given the fact that our two nations are at war, a certain lack of hospitality is, sadly, only to be expected.” His manner made it clear that there was no personal animus because of the war. Like most Terrarchs of the old families, he was capable of separating the two. An accomplished deceiver herself, Tamara appreciated the skill with which he carried the pose. She smiled warmly back, a young Terrarch woman fooled by his courtly ease and slightly upset by her treatment, complaining to a sympathetic listener.

“Is that what you would call it?”

“I am sure if Lady Asea were to fall into Sardean hands, her welcome would be no warmer.”

“You are correct.”

“Thank you. Regrettably there are questions I must ask you as well.”

“I suspected that there might be.”

“You have come from the East and you are a schismatic.”

“I have known priests in the East who would say the same of you.”

“And you would agree with them, of course?” There was no threat in his tone. He was merely a kindly priest leading an errant pupil along so that he could correct her errors later. Or so his manner implied.

“I have never taken any position on the matter. I always suspected the breaking of the church was more of a political matter than a spiritual one.”

Joran smiled warmly. Tamara felt the need to be on guard. “Though as a voice of the faith I should not, I agree with you on that.”

“If you will forgive me for saying so, you seem very mild-mannered for an Inquisitor.”

“A certain honesty is needed for my duties. You and I are not humans, Lady Tamara. We do not need such strict spiritual guidance as they do.” The smile vanished as quickly as it came. “Why did you come here?”

“I made enemies in Sardea.”

“Riding on a dragon will do that for you.”

“I made them before then.”

“There are those on this side of the border who would frown on such an act of lesse majesty.”

“I am sure there are but given a choice between public disapproval and losing my life, I will risk the former.”

“You might be risking the latter as well.”

“Then let me rephrase things. I would prefer death deferred to death immediate.”

“That is understandable. Why did you ask to see the Lady Asea, and not General Azaar upon your arrival?”

“I have met Lady Asea before.”

“You regard her as a friend?”

“No.”

“As an enemy you respect.”

“That might be closer to the truth.”

“Did you come here to kill her?”

“No.”

“You have tried to have her killed in the past.” There was a subtle shift in Joran’s manner. He became less ingratiating and more menacing.

“What makes you think that?”

“Your activities as an agent of the Sardean crown are not unknown to us?”

“By us do you mean the Temple or the Talorean government?”

“I stand before you as a representative of both.”

Tamara considered what else Joran might know. There had been a time not so long ago when the knowledge that the Talorean secret service had been aware of her movements would have caused her the greatest concern but at the moment she had other things to worry about. She decided to test what he knew.

“I was not aware I had performed any activities as an agent of the Sardean government.”

“You have suffered a blow to the head recently, perhaps. I understand that can lead to selective amnesia.”

She met his cold smile with a warm one of her own. “Perhaps if you gave me some examples, they might refresh my memory.”

“You offered the half-breed Rik considerable rewards to kill Asea.” Tamara kept her face blank. How had he learned this? Had Rik told him that?

“You would take the word of a half-breed guttersnipe over mine.”

“He merely confirmed the information when I asked him to, but it was only confirmation. We already knew.”

“Who told you that?”

“I am not at liberty to divulge the source of that information.” Was he lying, Tamara wondered. She thought about who had known of her mission to Morven. Her father and Ilmarec were the only two of whom she was certain. Perhaps others in the Brotherhood had known. Had the Brotherhood been penetrated or was someone within it feeding information to the Inquisition for their own purposes.

“You were also present in Halim when Queen Kathea was killed. As indeed was your father. You at least survived. He did not.”

Tamara was surprised by how raw the mention of Malkior’s death made her nerves feel.

“He killed Kathea you know, your father. There are a number of people in this country who would be very happy to get their hands on his daughter. The Kharadreans have always been fond of revenge. Some would say it’s a national fault.”

“It would appear that a number of people have reason to want me dead,” said Tamara. “Those who think I committed an offence against the Royal dignity, half the population of Kharadrea…”

“Oh I would say more than half. You were an associate of the late Lord Jaderac. There are some who claim his necromantic rituals were responsible for the undead plague.”

“More than half of the population of Kharadrea, the Lady Asea. Have I missed anybody out?”

“There are always your putative enemies back in Sardea but I think you have mentioned enough to be going on with. What surprises me is that the Lady Asea has not asked for your life. She knows you planned to kill her.”

“I suspect she finds the idea of my premature death wasteful. She wants to let you pick my brains first and then use me against Sardea. After I have served her purpose I will go to greet my ancestors.”

“How does she intend to use you?”

“Ask her, I am sure she will tell you.”

“Indulge me. Speculate.”

“I am my father’s daughter. I am distantly kin to the Empress Arachne through my mother. I stand to inherit some rather large estates in Sardea.”

“You are a sorceress. You have been behind several assassinations, the cause of several duels between some rather foolish young nobles. You are neither as naive nor as foolish as you pretend, Lady Tamara. Please don’t assume I am either.”

How much does he really know, Tamara wondered? How much of this is just fishing. Asea knew everything- about the Shadowblood, about her father’s allegiance to the Princes of Shadow. Could he know as well? Had Asea told him? No. That made no sense. Still, the Inquisition had a vast network of informants and many centuries of practise at sifting through their information. Had her father and the Brotherhood underestimated them? Joran changed tack, swiftly changing the subject before she had time to think things through.

“Lady Asea tells me you think the servants of the Princes of Shadow are among us. Why do you think that?”

“Because I have seen the darkest sorcery being practised within the Palace, by the Prime Minister Xephan and his companions.”

“You are willing to swear to that? Under oath.”

Tamara thought she saw where this was going. Her claims would be made public and used to justify the Talorean cause. Their march East would become a crusade against the forces of darkness. And why not? That was what it was.

“There are other things I could swear to as well. Armies of the Dead march with the Sardeans. I saw them from the saddle of my dragon. You will encounter them soon.”

“Good,” said Joran. “Very good. Keep this up and you may ride on dragonback again.”

She stared at him. He appeared to be hinting that he could put her on the Sardean throne. If that was really the case, she was certain it was as much for his own good as hers. No, she thought. It was entirely because he thought it would be to his own advantage. Her wellbeing was of no concern to people like Joran and Asea. Considering the fate of Kathea, it might prove to be a very unhealthy position to be in.

Well, she thought, she had decided to try and ride this particular dragon. Now she would just have to make sure she could stay in the saddle as it bucked.