The Gods of Amyrantha (60 page)

Not surprisingly, the arrival of a lone female at the front gate of the Abbey of the Way of the Tide caused something of a stir. Arkady was bustled inside, Kinta's letter of introduction snatched from her grasp by an acolyte, and then she was taken to a room off the main hall that reminded her of nothing so much as a prison cell.

To her relief she was offered water and a platter of dried fruit, asked to remain shrouded and told the abbot would be with her shortly.

Shortly, it seemed, was a very relative term, in the Abbey of the Way of the Tide.

It was almost dark, in fact, before she saw anybody. Nervous, frightened and nauseous with the thought of all the terrible fates her long wait had given her time to imagine, Arkady jumped to her feet as the door opened. She braced herself as she turned to face the Lord of Reckoning, only to discover the man entering her cell was well into middle age.

It couldn't be the Tide Lord. Brynden, according to Cayal, had been made immortal before he turned thirty.

'The letter you bring claims you are the Duchess of Lebec,' the saffron-robed man said without preamble. He spoke passable Glaeban, lifting the candle he carried a little higher to examine her more closely as he approached.

Not that there was much point, she thought, given she was still wearing the shroud she'd borrowed from Tiji.

'I am ... was...'

'This is a place somewhere in Glaeba, I assume?' She nodded. 'It's about sixty miles north of Herino.'

'The consort's letter to the Lord of Reckoning, while reassuringly devout, also seems to assume Lord Brynden is resident here in the abbey.'

Arkady stared at him in shock. 'You mean he's
not?'

The monk smiled. 'I think someone might have noticed.'

'But... Kinta said ...'

'Kinta?' The monk smiled. 'Your faith is admirable, my lady, particularly given you are Glaeban, but you have been sadly misinformed, she is certainly not the consort of our Imperator. If the Lady Kinta is in Torlenia, her presence is unknown to us here. And I can assure you, there is no immortal living here in this abbey either.'

'Are you certain?'

The abbot smiled serenely. 'The Way of the Tide teaches men to live with honour and frugality, my lady. This is easy enough to do in a place like this, but no true test of a warrior's strength. No man may spend longer than ten years in this place. He may use that time as he wishes, mastering the discipline of the Tide, but after that, he must return to civilisation and put his training into practice. Lord Brynden could not be hiding here, even in posing as one of us, because I can vouch for the fact that there is no man who has been here longer than a decade.'

Arkady shook her head, unable to grasp the notion she had come all this way for nothing. Or that Kinta had sent her on a wild goose chase. It made no sense.

'Are you so certain one of your brothers
isn't
Brynden in disguise?'

The monk smiled even wider. 'You think the Lord of Reckoning would hide among his followers? Or that we would fail to recognise him? Really, my lady, you must think us all fools.'

No, she replied silently,
I think the immortals are cleverer than you know and very good at hiding when they don't want to be found.
Arkady wished she could tell if he was lying about Brynden not being here, but his occasional hesitation could just as easily be attributed to his unfamiliarity with her language, as it could to deliberate evasiveness.

'I bring a letter from the Imperator's Consort and a message from the Immortal Prince, Brother. Is that not of interest to you?'

The monk's eyebrows shot up at the mention of Cayal. 'You bring a message from the Immortal Prince?'

'Would it make a difference to whether or not Lord Brynden was here, if I
did
have a message from Cayal?'

He shook his head. 'Sadly, no, my lady. I cannot conjure up something that does not exist. Not for the

Lady Chintara and certainly not for the Immortal Prince.'

'Then I have travelled all this way for nothing.' 'It would seem so, my lady.'

'I have two servants waiting for me out in the desert. A young man and a Crasii. I would be grateful if—'

'You will bring no Crasii to this place,' he said, cutting her off, all hint of his serene smile gone in a heartbeat at the mention of the Crasii. 'They are abominations. Bring it here, and it will be killed.'

Arkady nodded, glad she'd listened to Cayal's warning about Tiji. 'Of course not, Brother. But I will need supplies for my return to Ramahn.'

'If you wish, although surely, it would be faster and safer for you to travel to Elvere? The consort's letter states you are in some danger from your husband's enemies. They would be looking for you in Ramahn, would they not?'

'They would,' she agreed. 'Thank you for the suggestion.'

The monk smiled at her, having recovered his good humour now they were off the topic of the Crasii. 'It is not our way to add to the troubles of those we encounter, my lady. You will be provided with a bed and a meal tonight and supplies when you leave on the morrow. That is all we can do for you.'

'Thank you.'

The monk bowed and turned for the door, taking the light with him when he left, leaving Arkady alone in the darkness, wondering what sort of game Kinta was playing with her.

And wondering what — having come all this way for no reason — she was supposed to do next.

CHAPTER 61

It was dark by the time Declan Hawkes was finished arranging for the Lebec feline Crasii to be moved into the palace barracks when they arrived, several days after his discussion with Jaxyn Aranville. The new Duke of Lebec had lost no time in making his point to Lord Torfail. Nor had the hint been lost on the other Tide Lords.

Jaxyn bringing his Crasii to Herino was a show of force in more ways than one. Not to mention an encouraging sign. He had listened to Declan's advice and acted on it.

Tides,
Declan had said to himself as he watched the felines falling into line on the palace lawns less than a week after he'd suggested they be brought to Herino,
I'm officially a flanking immortal's minion.

It had taken an effort to ensure the task of settling them in would fall to him, so when they arrived just on sunset, Declan made a point of being there to make certain everything went smoothly and they didn't get into any fights with the felines of the royal guard. The feline quarters were clean and comfortable enough, but they were still lockable cells when all was said and done, and for these felines, used to Stellan Desean's liberal village setting, likely to be something of a contentious issue.

They were very well behaved, however, and once he'd addressed them on the lawns (quite deliberately in full view of the guest apartments on the second floor), given them their instructions and dismissed them, he

pointed to a good-looking Crasii in the front rank. She was a sleek, ginger feline, whose fur was so fine it looked like tanned human skin from a distance.

He beckoned her forward. 'You there! Ginger! Come here!'

The Crasii did as she was bid, standing to attention in front of him. 'My lord?'

'Once you're settled, have someone show you to my office. You'll be spending the night with me.'

The feline glared at him silently, the impatient twitch of her tail the only indication of her displeasure, and then picked up her bedroll and headed off toward the barracks.

'I didn't know you had a taste for feline flesh, Master Hawkes.'

Declan stiffened in alarm and turned to find Diala — or Queen Kylia as he forced himself to think of her — standing on the terrace behind him. She wore a languid smile; the look on her face all too knowing for one supposedly so young and innocent. She was behaving less and less like the credulous seventeen year old she was posing as, he'd noticed, now her in-laws were dead.

Poor Mathu was too overwhelmed by his sudden kingship to notice.

'I'm sorry. I didn't realise you were standing there, your majesty.'

'Don't apologise, Master Hawkes. How you entertain yourself when you're off duty is no concern of mine. She's a looker, though, that one. Almost human, from a distance. If you don't pay any attention to the tail.' The immortal impostor smiled nastily and added, 'Does the perfectly proper Arkady know her favourite friend from her desperately humble childhood likes to play with kittens?'

'It's not something I brag about, your majesty,' he said, lowering his eyes.

Diala smiled even wider. 'I'll bet it isn't.' She pulled her shawl a little tighter and held out her hand for him

to kiss. 'Well, just be careful, Master Hawkes. Lord Aranville speaks highly of you, but you'll not be much use to anybody if you get yourself shredded playing with the pussies, now, will you?'

With a courtly bow, Declan kissed her proffered hand, and waited until the queen had left the terrace, and then he smiled, as it occurred to him being caught out by Diala like that was probably the most fortuitous thing that had happened to him all day.

Several hours later, just as he was finishing writing up his final orders for the gifts to be assembled for their Caelish visitors, and how to acquire them, there was a timid knock on his door. Undoubtedly, the feline he'd arranged to visit him had arrived. He glanced around. Everything was ready. The drapes were drawn, there was a pallet made up in the corner, a wineskin and some cold meat and bread on a platter on the desk.

Declan sealed the orders with the spymaster's seal and slipped the folded papers into his vest, so he could deliver them later and then rose to his feet and crossed the room to the door. He unlocked it, glanced up the hall, and then stood back to let the feline through.

She stepped into the office, waiting until he had locked the door behind him, before she turned to look at him. As soon as he was facing her, the Crasii reached up, claws bared, and swiped him across the cheek.

'Tides!' he cried, clutching his bleeding face. 'What was
that
for?'

'You want to make this look believable, don't you?' 'You could have warned me!'

'You'd have flinched,' she said with a shrug, glancing around. 'Is this really your office?'

Collapsing against the door, Declan nodded, in too much pain to answer.
Tides, but a feline scratch stings.

'Thought it would be bigger.'

'Sorry ... to disappoint... you.'

The feline began to walk around, examining things as she went. 'Aleki says to say hello, by the way.'

Through eyes watering with pain, Declan reached for his kerchief to dab at his bleeding face, and pushed off the door. 'Right after he told you to permanently maim me, was it?'

She looked over her shoulder at him, demonstrating not a shred of remorse or sympathy. 'Don't be such a baby, Declan. It's only a scratch.'

'A
scratch?
You've probably scarred me for life, Chikita!
Tides,
but this smarts!'

'It'll stop hurting after a while. Is this food for me?'

He nodded, flopping into the chair opposite his desk. 'We were all out of freshly killed snow bears.'

She grinned and began helping herself to the sliced meat on the plate. 'You heard about that, did you?'

'Everyone in Glaeba knows of the Lebec feline who took down a Jelidian snow bear. How
did
you manage that, by the way?'

'Rat poison.'

'Rat
poison?' Declan said, shaking his head in disbelief. 'The story I heard was that you took him down with a single swipe to his jugular.' Wincing, he pushed the kerchief harder onto his cheek, hoping pressure would stop the bleeding. 'Poor bastard. I know exactly how he felt, too.'

'Well, I did do that,' she agreed, through a mouthful of meat. 'But rat poison stops blood from clotting and I'd dipped my claws in rat poison first, you see, so ...'

'So when you opened him up there was no chance he'd stop bleeding,' Declan concluded. 'Bit risky, though. And unnecessary, too. I told Aleki we could have just sold you at auction and arranged to have someone from Lebec in attendance.'

She shook her head. 'I'd never have come to the attention of the suzerain, that way. This was more effective.'

'And how are you getting along as a slave?'

It was more than an idle question. Chikita was a very special Crasii. Born unfettered by slavery in Hidden Valley to Scard parents, like her sister Marianne, she was one of the few felines the Cabal was reasonably sure they could rely on to be completely free of any compulsion to obey the Tide Lords. It had been a risk — not to mention a long and carefully planned operation — to infiltrate the feline ranks of the Lebec forces. They'd set the wheels in motion not long after Jaxyn Aranville had appeared in Lebec as the new Kennel Master and Tilly began to wonder about him.

Nobody had anticipated events would move so swiftly, though, once the Tide began to turn.

'It's hard sometimes,' she admitted. 'But I'm learning to keep my opinion to myself. I want to puke every time I smell a suzerain, though.'