Days Of Light And Shadow (36 page)

Chapter Fifty Six.

Banging at the door was never a good sign. Iros had learned that the hard way. But at least this was a polite knocking at the door to his bedchamber waking him up and not someone trying to break down the front door with a mace.

“Yes.” He called out, a little grumpy at being woken so early. Except that, as he slowly realised, it wasn’t so early. He could see the sun rising in the sky through the open window. It was mid morning at least.

“It’s Myrta my lord. The cooks want to know if you will be down for breakfast.” He recognised the voice of the young girl who cleaned his bedchamber, and the hesitancy in it. And when Sophelia was lying completely naked beside him, half curled up around him, and he remembered the previous night, he understood it. They hadn’t come down for dinner after all, and Myrta had knocked then as well. And when they hadn’t come down she’d knocked again, left a tray by the door and run away. It was unfair but she had probably been given the duty because she was the youngest and no one else wanted to do it.

“In a little bit.”

“Or not.” Sophelia was awake too he discovered, and smiling for some reason as she whispered cheekily in to his ear. Then she nibbled it. He could guess the reason. The previous night might have been her first time, but it seemed that she was already determined it wouldn’t be her last.

“I will tell them my lord.” He heard her walk away from the door and breathed a small sigh of relief. One awkward moment ended, though he should probably apologise to Myrta for embarrassing her.

“And you, you’re … happy?” Truthfully he didn’t quite know how to ask her, but she seemed happy. More than happy from the crooked grin spreading across her face. And the way her hands were already straying.

“Very my lord.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him like a cheap barmaid. “But I don’t think you’re going to make breakfast.”

“I’m spent.” And he was, but he already knew she wasn’t about to accept his excuse. She hadn’t accepted any of them all night long. It seemed that behind her demure façade there dwelt the beating heart of a wild animal.

“You feel refreshed.” And when her hands were already holding the proof it wasn’t as if he could deny it.

“Hell’s teeth woman.” He groaned at her a little, but in sooth resigned to his fate. “I suppose I always did prefer lunch!”

Chapter Fifty Seven.

The Royal Chamber was almost empty when Herodan arrived, something that caught him by surprise. It seemed odd since the high lord had sent for him. But then just being sent for had been unexpected. Ever since returning from Tendarin and giving his report of his assignment, he had been unpopular with Finell. Apparently even now the high lord was unwilling to accept that his armies had invaded the human realm long before he had declared war.

But if that was painful for Finell to hear, than the thought that within a few more months he would have to travel to Tendarin and prostrate himself before King Herrick in apology must have been torture. And it was much less than four months now.

Both times when Herodan had been summoned to attend him, he had been asked to find some diplomatic excuse, some reason that Herrick would accept to excuse him. There was none of course. The king was somewhere beyond angry at what had happened, and he would send his armies to collect him if he didn’t come willingly. Both times when he’d said as much to Finell, Herodan had been screamed out of the Royal Chamber.

He hadn’t been called back since.

Herodan suspected this was going to be another such occasion. After all weeks had passed and the time of Finell’s humiliation drew ever closer. He was desperate. But at least this time there would be no one to watch his being screamed out of the Royal Chamber again as he was sure would happen. King Herrick would not change his mind no matter how much Finell might hope he would, and Herodan wasn’t about to pretend otherwise.

Still, no matter how bad it would be, there were matters he had to raise with the high lord. Important matters that had yet to be addressed. First among them his replacement in Tendarin. When the message had finally come ordering him back to Leafshade, several days after the message sent to King Herrick, he had left his assistant in charge until his replacement arrived. But thus far there had been no replacement, and Luree was ill-prepared to run the mission. She was only an assistant after all, and Tendarin her first post.

Then there were house matters to speak of. The place of House Vora in the realm as Finell inexplicably kept stripping them of their titles and positions. Herodan had returned to Leafshade to find that his father was no longer on the Council of Elders. His uncle Chria in Whitefern had lost his position as the city’s protector at a time when they were just beginning to rebuild it. All of their warehouses across Elaris had been seized by the throne as the realm was slowly rebuilt. Restrictions had been placed on the routes their traders could ply. And the most lucrative routes had been given away to the other houses.

Naturally, just in case they might complain, all of them had been banned from attending the court. It was one way he suspected, that Finell could explain their absence from the court without shaming himself. And to make sure of Finell’s safety, Tenir was also under house arrest. It seemed that Finell had no intention of letting his uncle and the First of the house anywhere near him again.

In fact this meeting was probably the first time in months that any member of House Vora had been in the Royal Chamber.

Under normal circumstances the other houses would have been crowing as House Vora was slowly losing its status. But these weren’t normal circumstances. They too were being slowly stripped of their positions and titles, and those taking their place were often not of the important houses. In fact many of them were soldiers, watchmen under the direct command of Y’aris. That troubled him. Not only was Y’aris now the high lord’s only advisor, he controlled half the realm. Soon he worried, he might control all of it with Finell only a figurehead.

Worse though were the arrests, and if there was one thing that House Vora had been spared it was having their kin spirited away in the middle of the night by Y’aris’ watchmen. A few trade routes, property, titles and positions, even some gold and moon silver, were nothing against that. Especially when the accursed prison had to be overflowing with high born, and the dark rumours of what happened to them in there flowed through the city like ale.

It was madness. Finell had been breathing deeply of the mist of the moon maiden. But how was he to say that to his own crazed cousin? That he had started early down the same road that his grandfather had travelled? Or that he listened too closely to that black blooded advisor of his? There was no way that he could. His family, the entire house in fact had come to that conclusion weeks before. And in fact they had decided that there was some advantage to stepping away from Finell. To letting him destroy centuries of achievement but not the entire house.

Finell would not go before Herrick, that much was obvious. And so the humans would send their armies for him. That too was plain. He was destined to fall, to sink all the way down to the demon ridden hells of the humans, and maybe it was best that he didn’t take them all with him. Best to be quiet and stand as far away from him as they could.

“High Lord.”

Herodan walked straight to the throne and bowed low before his cousin, uncomfortably aware that there were watchmen all around. So many of them. Far more than just a couple of ceremonial guards. His father had said it was so, but still he hadn’t quite expected it.

“Cousin.” Finell greeted him and Herodan’s heart sank from the first syllable. He could hear the malice in his voice. And worse, when he looked up, he could see that terrible sly smile curling up the edge of his mouth. The smile he always seemed to wear when he was about to do something terrible.

Sophelia had said he’d worn the same smile when he’d sold her to the humans as a prize for not hanging him. And his father had hit him for daring to show that same terrible smile when he’d presented his forged proof. And it was forged. Iros had heard truly. So how much else of what he had heard was also true? Most of it was Herodan’s thought. Including the fact that he was going to be blamed for Y’aris losing the war.

It took everything Herodan had to stand there calmly when every instinct he had was telling him to run.

“You wished to see me?”

“Yes of course. But first how is your dear sister and her husband?” He was almost grinning from ear to ear as he asked, and Herodan wanted to strangle him for that evil smirk. Far from being guilt ridden by what he had done, or at least shamed, he was actually enjoying Sophelia’s humiliation. His father had been right to hit him. His only mistake had been in not hitting him hard enough and often enough.

“I have not heard High Lord. I called in on Lord Iros and Lady Sophelia on my way back from Tendarin, and at that time things were difficult. Lord Iros was gravely ill. But I have not heard anything since.” Sadly it was true. Pigeons had stopped flying to House Vora over the previous months, as Finell had ordered that watchmen take over the running of the city’s roosts. He was certain that it was a deliberate attempt by Finell to shore up his position in the face of anger after the war. All of the great houses had been cut off.

“Ahh. And while you were there did you happen to notice the town’s cannon?” The black blood jumped in and instantly Herodan could feel the teeth of a trap closing around him.

“And why would I? We are at peace are we not? Or are you planning to lose another war and shame our high lord.” Y’aris turned white with rage, but unlike Finell he had mastered some level of self control. Instead of screaming he turned his words against him with practiced ease.

“So that would be a no Herodan. And once again you have failed to tell us of the utra’s strength. Just who do you serve? Your rightful high lord – or the utra?”

“I sent messages of the human’s wheeled cannon long ago.”

“So you say.” The black blood all but laughed at him as he pounced. “Messages sent but never received. You fail to tell your high lord of the defences in Greenlands despite staying there for five days. You spoke against the high lord’s ascension to the Heartwood Throne. And you’ve been meeting in secret with the others who speak against Finell.”

“What others? What meetings?” The advisor was lying of course. But it was too late, and Herodan knew it even as he started to protest.

“Don’t try to deny it.” Y’aris held up his hand as if to stop him, and immediately two of his watchmen grabbed him.

“What -!”

“How long did you spend among the utra? Five years? More?” He turned back to Finell who was sitting on his throne, staring.

“High Lord.” He suddenly went down on one knee before Finell, while Herodan foolishly struggled against the watchmen and was smashed over the head for trying. “It is clear that your cousin has spent too long among the utra. He has changed allegiances and taken the utra’s gold. And now he not only speaks against you openly, he plots against you.”

“This terrible sedition has taken root even in the hearts of your own family.”

“Liar black blood!” But even as he tried to speak Herodan was facing the floor, held down by the guards, and his voice sounded unusually faint. As faint as he felt.

“High Commander!” One of the watchmen holding him suddenly called out in alarm, and then from nowhere drew a knife. A tempered steel knife. The sort of thing that even in his daze Herodan recognised as a typical human weapon. In fact the sort of weapon a human noble would carry. The trap had been sprung.

“Treason!” Y’aris shouted out the charge for all to hear just as the watchmen pushed him the rest of the way to the ground, twisted his arms up behind his back, and began binding them. “He sought to murder you.” And of course Herodan wasn’t given a chance to protest his innocence. One of the watchmen drove his fist hard into the back of his head, leaving him reeling, and then they kicked him hard in the stomach, driving the air from his lungs, just to be sure, while Y’aris prosecuted him.

“High Lord you must treat this seriously. An attempt upon your life. And by your own cousin. The people must never hear of it. It would destroy their faith in you.”