Authors: Hilari Bell
N
EVIN AND
M
ASTER
Z
ACHIROS SPENT
the morning answering petitions—the deception was brilliant. No one even suspected that the Hierarch sat mute and mindless as a doll. When he became restless, Master Zachiros suddenly discovered that he was out of paper, creating a break while a clerk ran to fetch more and another brought refreshments.
Jeriah served the Hierarch with his own chilled hands.
Finally it ended. Nevin led the Hierarch, tired, querulous, and beginning to mumble, back to his rooms. Jeriah caught Master Zachiros’ arm and drew him aside as the others went in.
“Master, I would
really
like to be told about my duties. Now.”
The secretary sighed and led Jeriah over to the fountain, where the splashing water would cover their voices.
“You’ve just seen your duty—to keep anyone from guessing he’s no longer a whole man.”
“What happened?” It took all Jeriah’s self-control to keep
his voice low. “Surely he wasn’t like this when the priests chose him!”
“Oh, no. He became ill seven years ago, a terrible fever. We were certain it would kill him, but he clung to life so hard…We all prayed he would live. Sometimes the Gods answer prayers in ways you don’t intend.” Master Zachiros shrugged. “Or maybe it has nothing to do with prayer, maybe it’s all random. I’d rather believe that.”
Sunlight sparkled on the water. Flowers scented the air. Birds sang. Jeriah tried to still his shaking hands.
“The fever destroyed his mind?”
“Yes. His body recovered, for the most part, but his mind…didn’t. And a hierarch’s reign can only be ended by his death.”
“Bright Gods. But how could you conceal that much damage?
Seven years?
”
“We added a few layers of formality. Instead of dealing with anyone personally, the Hierarch sends his squire. That part was Nevin’s idea; he was only a page then. We’ve dispensed with pages, since few children can keep a secret. The guards admit no one to the Hierarch’s presence without permission—we’ve told them we have reason to fear assassins. His menservants all know, of course. And myself, the Priests’ Council, his healer priest, and perhaps a dozen of the highest lords and priests of the court since we had to let his personal friends in on the secret. A handful of others we trust. The brighter members of court were sent away, on one
pretext or another. There’s almost no one here who was at court seven years ago. He says the Sun Prayers well enough. It may be hard to get him through the Equinox Ceremony this year. We’ve divided most of the ritual between various priests, so all he has to do is the hourly obeisance, but…Well, we’ll manage.”
Jeriah didn’t care about prayers. “Who runs the Realm?”
“The Landholders’ Council. It’s not such a big change. The Hierarch has always consulted them in secular matters.”
And Master Lazur now controlled the Landholders’ Council. The shaking in Jeriah’s hands spread to his body.
“But the day-to-day decisions…the petitions…you do all that?” He gazed in astonishment at the bespectacled secretary in floppy slippers.
“Yes, with help from Nevin and others who are in on the secret. I’ll need your help as well.”
“But…”
“Lad, we need you to do this,” said Master Zachiros. “Nevin’s father wants him working in a more influential job, but whenever we’ve tried to replace him, the Hierarch…He doesn’t adjust well to changes in his staff. The first time a new squire tried to serve him, he became hysterical—it took Nevin hours to calm him down. The next few times we tried to introduce the new person more gradually, but he still couldn’t accept them. And he has to be kept stable and calm if we’re to keep up our illusion.”
“But why me?”
Jeriah wondered what had happened to the squires who’d failed to keep the Hierarch calm. Sent away, like the brighter members of the old court? How far away? Assigned to the army? To the farthest corners of the Realm? Jeriah had to stay in the palace, or Tobin would die.
“Why me?” He tried to keep the fear out of his voice.
“The Hierarch liked you,” Master Zachiros said. “When the servants took him the tea you brought, he asked about ‘that nice boy’ he’d sent for it. So we hoped…And it seems to be working, Bright Gods be praised! Lord Brallorscourt understands the importance of keeping the Hierarch’s situation stable, but he was becoming impatient.”
“Surely I’m not—” Jeriah didn’t finish. It sounded like he was the only one for this job. And if he failed…
Master Zachiros patted his hand. “Go for a walk and give it a chance to sink in. The Sunlord rests in the afternoon—only his menservants attend him then, though we keep a clerk there for appearances. He’s supposed to be considering affairs of state. You won’t be needed till it’s time to dress him for dinner. He dines before the court when it’s possible. So go for a walk and think about it.”
Jeriah walked numbly down to the wooded parks of the palace grounds, but the tumbling chaos in his mind could hardly be described as thinking. This job was a
lot
more complicated than he’d expected. Would it interfere with his search for the spell notes? And what if he failed? Jeriah would bet that the others who’d tried to take Nevin’s place
were no longer serving in the palace. This secret was far too important to risk it slipping out.
Master Lazur’s cadre was running the Landholders’ Council, and with the Hierarch incapacitated, the council ruled the Realm. Was that such a bad thing? They’d accomplish the relocation—get everyone to safety. No, this…shadow government wasn’t bad for the Realm, only for Jeriah. Master Lazur would never have allowed Jeriah to learn about this unless he believed Jeriah could be controlled. Could Master Lazur have evidence of his involvement with the conspirators?
Yes, he could. Jeriah’s hands began to tremble again, and he tucked them under his arms.
“Did you find them? Are you ready to cast the gate now?”
Jeriah jumped. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”
“Well?” Daroo was perched on a limb above Jeriah’s head. “Tell me! I saw that other one throw you out of the priest’s rooms. He must have gone in before I started watching. He stayed till the priest came and they talked for almost half an hour, but the charm kept me so far away I couldn’t hear them!” Indignation filled the goblin’s voice. “I don’t know where your room is, and during the day you were dashing all over the place or with that poor old man. And I’m
dying
of curiosity. You owe me a button for watching.”
“Why should I pay for something I told you not to do? I’d pay you to go home! Although…You say you’ve been
watching me for days? No one’s seen you?”
“Of course not,” the boy said smugly. “With all those flowers and bushes it’s easy to get around. There’s even trees in those planters, so I can go from one level to the next without using the stairs. But what’s happened?”
Jeriah hesitated. True knights didn’t confide in children. But if he called the Hierarch “poor old man,” Daroo must have seen what the humans had missed. Besides, Jeriah had to tell someone.
He sat, leaning against a tree, and Daroo climbed down to sit beside him. The boy listened without interruption as Jeriah told him what had happened that first night, and briefly about his discoveries concerning the Hierarch. When Jeriah finished, Daroo put his small finger right on the heart of the problem.
“You believed this Nevin when he said the spell notes weren’t in the priest’s rooms?”
“Yes. He might have lied about that, but I’m sure he was about to let something slip when he told me that if I found them I couldn’t…couldn’t what? Can you think of anything? It has to be something that would give me a clue, because if it didn’t, he would have finished the sentence.”
“No. And if it’s not in the priest’s rooms, you’ll have to search the whole palace. And maybe beyond. And to do that you have to be here, so you’d better make sure that old man likes you!”
“I need a clue,” Jeriah fretted. “Searching the whole palace
will take years, and Tobin doesn’t have a month!”
Just over two weeks until Tobin became ill. Maybe less than that—no illness, not even a magical one, was completely predictable. After that, perhaps as little as a week before he was dead. Jeriah had to find those spell notes soon, but how?
In the stories, if the knight didn’t know where to go, someone appeared to guide him. Usually a beautiful girl. But Koryn, who might have guided Jeriah, was working for his enemy.
“And maybe beyond the palace,” Daroo repeated gloomily.
“I don’t think Master Lazur would let those notes too far out of his reach,” said Jeriah. “Suppose he needs them? But I can’t…”
True knights also didn’t ask for help. Especially not from vermin. Untrustworthy vermin, too.
Then Jeriah must not be a true knight, because he couldn’t see any other way. Whatever the goblins were concealing, he’d come to believe that Daroo cared about Tobin.
Try.
“Daroo, you seem to get around the palace pretty easily. Could other goblins do the same?”
The bright eyes glinted. “Does this mean you’ll stop telling me to leave? During the day we’d have to take care, but by night we could run an army around. The guards are looking for big folk, see?”
“No,” said Jeriah. “But I’ll take your word for it. Could your people search the palace for the spell notes?”
“Aye. A few dozen Bookeries could go through that priest’s office in an hour if it weren’t for the charm. All the papers in the palace would take a while, but Bookeries could do it.”
“Bookeries?”
“Their gift is writing and language, things like that. They’re the ones you need for this.”
“Then I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Jeriah grinned at the goblin’s squeal of protest and continued: “Go home, and convince your father to come back with enough…Bookeries?…to search the whole palace. Will you do that?”
“I will,” said Daroo. “For a button. But whether
they
will is something else again. What are you going to trade for it? They’ll want even value, not just a token.”
“I’ll think of something.” Jeriah rose and brushed himself off. “Your job is to bring them back. Can you do it? Fast? Tobin’s running out of time.”
“Sure.” The boy held out his hand.
Jeriah looked around, and dropped a pinecone into it. “I need my buttons, if you don’t mind.”
“I’ll do the trip for a pinecone, but I want a button for the watching, like we agreed.”
“I never agreed to any such thing! I didn’t ask you to stand watch. I didn’t even want you to!”
“But I did it, so you’re indebted. I’ll do no errands for an indebted man. I want a button.”
“But…” The foolishness of it overcame Jeriah’s indignation and he laughed. It took only a moment to twist off a button. “There, demon, are you happy?”
Daroo sniffed. “It’s an uphill fight to civilize some folk, but I suppose you’ll get there. Eventually.”
“Civilize? Why you…”
Daroo grinned, shot into the bushes, and vanished.
“Be careful,” Jeriah called to the empty woods.
He went back to the Hierarch’s rooms and was intercepted by Nevin, who immediately took him in charge. Jeriah’s wardrobe was inspected and found wanting. “You haven’t spent much time in civilized places, have you? Look at you—you’re missing a button on the tunic you’re wearing right now!”
Jeriah was taken to the seamstress for new tunics and tabards, to the baths for a haircut, and back to the Hierarch in time to help him dress for dinner.
As he handed the old man his shoes, the blue eyes dwelled on his face with troubled curiosity.
“Who…?”
“Jeriah Rovan. I brought you some tea, remember?”
The Hierarch frowned, trying, and Jeriah’s throat tightened with pity. “I’m Jeriah. Just remember Jeriah.”
The frown vanished. “Ah, Jeriah. Good.”
“It’s time to go in, my lord.” Nevin was scowling, but as long as the Hierarch accepted him, Jeriah didn’t care. He was getting tired of Sir Nevin.
Still, he had to admire the young knight’s competence. The Sunlord dined alone, at a table on a dais at the end of the huge hall. He was weary in spite of the afternoon’s rest, his hands unsteady. But when he spilled his wine, Nevin was there in an instant, apologizing loudly for “his” clumsiness. The old man nodded, his confusion taken for graciousness by those who watched. Yes, this job was complicated. Jeriah hoped he could cope, along with everything else he had to do. What could he offer the goblins in exchange for their aid? And even if he found the notes, he couldn’t…what?
The Hierarch was very tired after dinner. He sat on the bed, running a gold necklace around and around in his hands.
“You brew his medicine like a tea,” Nevin was explaining. “One scoop of the leaves in a cup of boiling water, and steep it till the sand timer stops. Master Kerratis, his healer priest, says he has to drink it all. It helps him sleep and…well, it helps him.”
Jeriah knelt before the old man. “It’s time to take your medicine and go to bed,” he said gently. “I have to put the necklace away.”
The blue eyes gazed at him blankly. “Who?”
“Jeriah. Remember? Jeriah.”
“Ah…”
Jeriah sighed and reached for the necklace, but the old man held on with surprising strength. “No.”
“I have to put the necklace away. It’s time for bed.”
“No.”
The Hierarch’s lip began to tremble and his eyes filled with tears. One of the menservants started forward, but it was Nevin’s hand that grabbed Jeriah’s collar. Jeriah was crouched on his heels, and the yank sent him sprawling to the floor.
Nevin stood over him and hissed, “He is not a backward child who must do what you say. He is the Holy One, Chosen of the Bright Gods themselves. If they’ve seen fit to afflict him, it is not ours to question.
Your
place is to treat him, always, with the respect he deserves. You may go.”
He turned his back on Jeriah and knelt before the Hierarch. “My lord?”
Jeriah fled.
By the next morning the Hierarch hadn’t simply forgiven Jeriah, he’d completely forgotten the incident. And Jeriah’s name as well. But he did seem to like Jeriah, the Bright Ones be thanked.