Woman of Silk and Stone (14 page)

One that was reflected in the overall state
of the kingdom.

I don't know why I expected that Solis would
be some kind of enchanted realm where the bluebirds did the
housework and rodents were tailors, and everybody got along, but
clearly my expectations had been skewed by every Disney movie I'd
ever seen.

In reality, since Tam's parents' death
nearly ten years before and he took the throne at the tender age of
twenty - or by my calculations, seven or eight - the kingdom had
been in a state of resentment and disharmony. Taxes were higher,
unemployment was up, and the economy was on a downward slide. The
brightly colored townhouses and clean streets I had seen on my way
in were only a small portion of the city; the poorer section of
town where the laboring class lived in row-houses was slipping away
from the white picket fence level of charming and heading more
towards the projects.

What most shocked me was the fact that the
kingdom of Solis was not some huge, sprawling realm with
overpopulation problems; rather, it was more like the kingdom of
Monaco back on Earth, even if the actual land space was larger.
From what little I managed to glean about Edin's geography, there
were three major kingdoms on a single continent. If there were
other land masses on the planet, no one knew about them yet, and
all of known Edin was a little smaller than the continental
U.S.

The kingdoms were divided evenly, each with
the population of a small city back home. In Solis, there were
about 35,000 people. Total.

Today, as I sat in yet another council
meeting, listening to the members arguing over yet another
pointless tax hike, I gritted my teeth and forced myself to keep
quiet. Until now, I hadn't spoken up much during council, knowing I
still needed to understand more of the intricacies of the culture
before casting an opinion; but I was beginning to get fed up.

While there wasn't a huge disparity between
the Haves and Have Nots in Solis, the gap was beginning to expand
and I had no doubt it was due to the increased taxing over the past
ten years. What was most troubling was the lack of explanation
regarding where the extra revenue was going. The royal exchequer
didn't seem to be bloated, the court wasn't throwing lavish balls
or banquets, and Tam certainly wasn't spending the extra cash on
booze and women. So the only explanation was that someone high up
was cooking the books and storing up a nice little nest egg at the
expense of the kingdom and Tam's reputation as king.

Efrim seemed a likely candidate; the man
wore some of the most elaborate robes I'd seen yet in Solis, and he
seemed to have a few more personal servants than anyone else,
including the king.

But frankly, painting Efrim as the villain
was beginning to bug me. It just seemed too easy, too textbook to
be real. Although Occam's Razor suggested that yes, the guy who
looked like Disney's favorite evil sorcerer and who sniped at me
with his every breath was the clear choice, I couldn't help feeling
that somewhere deep down - deep, deep down - he meant well.

This was one of those moments. For the past
hour, the council had been arguing about raising the taxes on blown
glass. Interestingly enough, glass-making was the primary export
for Solis, making it the most profitable industry in the kingdom.
So, raising the taxes on the owners of the glass factories made
some sense; they had a surplus, and it was a renewable resource, so
if it had to come from somewhere, at least the tax wouldn't be a
hardship.

But the council wasn't talking about taxing
the wealthy owners and merchants; they wanted to increase the tax
on the status of journeymen, affecting the laborers who had to buy
a license to work as a glass-blower. These were the people who had
looked so disgruntled on my first day in the city, the ones who
probably viewed the sudden appearance of a Halqu as yet another
reason for their taxes to go up.

Because this wasn't the first time. While
the merchants were making money hand over fist, the laborers and
lower classes were beginning to feel the pinch, turning what had
been a peaceful realm into a state of unrest.

And it was all being blamed on Tam.

"Well, and if it does decrease the number of
new journeymen this quarter, so what? There is no shortage now, and
it will simply make the existing workers more competitive," Shakar,
the minister of labor, was maintaining, his face florid with the
heat of the argument. He was one of my least favorite council
members; he always seemed to be sweating and had a sly look about
him, as though he knew something you didn't and was just waiting
for the opportunity to use it against you.

"Yes, and what happens when the only
journeymen who can afford to pay the licensing fee are ones who
come from the merchant class and are unskilled? You know perfectly
well that Shuru has begun developing its own glass factories since
the price hike. Do we give them the chance to overtake our
industry?"

This was my problem. Efrim was the one
making sense.

Tam shot me a worried look, clearly not
understanding the full financial implications, but knowing that
trouble was ahead. "What do you think, Honey?" he asked, his boyish
voice shaky with nerves.

Every eye shot to me and I found myself
shifting uncomfortably in my chair. This was the reason my
professors always told me not to exaggerate on my resume; someone
will always expect you to know what you're talking about.

"I don't pretend to understand the
complexities of the system you've got here, but I do know that
based on the history of my world, when the lower classes, the
laborers, become too burdened by taxation, rebellion is never far
behind," I finally said, hesitant to get too heavily involved.
After all, I still didn't know who wanted me dead. No point in
giving them more reasons.

Tam's eyes widened in dismay and Ninna gave
me a quelling look. However, the rest of the council seemed
interested in my take on the situation.

"A rebellion? This is common where you are
from?" Efrim asked, for once losing the sarcastic tone often
present in his voice.

"Uh, yeah. Pretty common. It's...not here?"
I asked, wondering if that was even possible.

"No, not at all. Since the original division
of kingdoms, Solis has never experienced an internal rebellion. Not
in five thousand years," Shakar informed me proudly. I just nodded,
letting that sink in for a minute.

I still hadn't worked out the difference in
time here. The year was actually longer in Edin, four hundred days
long; but the days were shorter, only twenty hours. Of course the
hours were measured differently, and equaled about seventy minutes
back home. Needless to say, my internal clock was all screwed
up.

"That's...remarkable. I don't think there's
a nation on Earth that has gone longer than a few hundred years
without some kind of internal conflict." The group pondered that
for a moment, seemingly stunned.

"But most of the conflicts center on money.
Who has it, what they're doing with it, and if the people doing
without are suffering. For instance, in a country called France a
little over three hundred years ago, the aristocracy had become
indolent with wealth and decadence while the lower classes were
starving to death. There was a revolution, a bloody one, and the
monarchy was toppled to form a republic...a nation ruled by its
people."

Shocked faces watched me from around the
table, apparently unable to imagine a world where such things could
occur. Thinking it was a good time to drive my point home, I
continued.

"That didn't really work out so well either,
can't remember why, but the main thing was that most countries
learned not to let things get quite that drastic again. From what I
understand about the situation here, no one is in danger of
starving yet, but it doesn't take as long as you would imagine for
that line to be crossed. And it's hard to come back from it."

The room hushed for several long moments as
each member thought it through, hopefully taking me seriously.
Efrim in particular studied me intently, his dark eyes swirling
with unspoken thoughts and plans, most of which probably didn't
bode well for me. At long last, Ninna broke the silence, her eyes
sharp with irritation. I was a little taken aback by her
expression, and wondered whether she was annoyed with me for
bringing my opinion into the mix, or just pissed off at the
stubborn men who'd kept us debating for hours on end.

"We should table this discussion for now,
councilors. Let us look into the matter more and determine whether
the tax is truly needed before we take the next step," she
declared, rather reasonably, I thought. She glanced over at me and
rolled her eyes in a distinctly unladylike manner, making me grin.
Maybe her butt was as numb as mine was at that point.

"Very well. Ensi Tam, do you agree?" Efrim
asked, completely unnecessarily, since Tam would never contradict
his aunt.

"Yes," he nodded succinctly. "The council is
dismissed for today. Let us meet again in a week to discuss the
matter further."

Ninna patted his hand and gave him a proud
smile before turning to whisper to Shakar. Turning to me, Tam gave
me a wide grin and scrambled out of his chair to take my hand. The
kid loved to lead me around like a lost puppy. It took me almost a
week to realize that apart from his aunt, no one else touched the
boy in affection, so I submitted gracefully, letting him hug me or
hold my hand whenever he wanted.

"The people of France really got rid of
their king?" he queried as soon as we exited the room. I smiled
grimly. Figured the kid would latch on to that idea.

"Yes, Tam. They did. But eventually they had
a king again, although he still had to listen to the people more.
And the country I come from doesn't have a king at all," I informed
him, thinking that as much as I loved Tam, there was something
deeply wrong with a society that put the onus of government on the
shoulders of a twelve-year old just because of who his daddy
was.

"No king? How do they live?" he asked,
violet eyes wide with curiosity. Well, I walked right into that
one, didn't I?

As I attempted to explain democracy to a
king, I began to feel strange; a fine sheen of sweat sprang out all
over my skin and a tingling heat stretched down my spine, as though
it were plugged into an electrical socket.

We walked into the main hall and I heard
Hamsum cry out a warning before I saw a flash of steel and a man in
a dark hood fly at me.

Moving on instinct, I pushed Tam behind me,
not sure in that endless second before the assailant reached us if
he was after me or the young king. Everything seemed to slow down,
sounds were sharper, and my heart was so loud in my ears I could
barely focus on anything else. I could feel Tam's fingers digging
into my back, hear his frightened shout; I could see Hamsum's
shadow at my side as he moved to intercept, but I knew it wouldn't
be in time.

The knife, a shard of gleaming, bright
silver, descended toward me, the hand gripping it dark and
tattooed. The face beneath the hood was shielded, but I saw the
sharp bite of a smile and knew the weapon would strike true.

Suddenly all the typical bustle of the
castle, the laughter and voices, the sounds of servants going about
their duties, the clash of swords where guards sparred; all had
died into a silence so heavy I could feel it settle on my shoulders
as everyone realized what was happening.

And then I felt it. My fire phantom.

The great hall seemed darker somehow, like a
cloud had passed over the sun, and the air was thick with tension.
A shadow sped into the hall, a cloud of smoke stretching out across
the room at lightning speed, touching every corner, brushing over
every cheek, hidden fingers drifting over bare skin. The breath
stopped in my throat, and my heart began to pound double-time, my
every nerve ending screaming out that something drastic was about
to happen, something terrifying and marvelous, life-changing and
destroying.

The smoke coalesced in a black wall in front
of me, and miraculously, the knife simply dissolved into ash,
falling to the floor in a tidy pile. The man in the hood stumbled
and cried out, his voice cut off as an insubstantial-looking hand
formed from the smoke and wrapped long fingers around his neck. I
watched in utter shock, unsure if I had already taken the blow and
was experiencing some sort of last-moment hallucination or if
events had changed so drastically. Before my mind had time to catch
up, the knife-wielder's head drooped and the hand released him,
dropping him unceremoniously to the floor. Hamsum appeared at the
fallen assassin's side, throwing back the hood as the crowd gave a
collective gasp.

It was an old man, the first I'd seen since
coming to Solis. He looked to be in his seventies; here, that had
to make him somewhere over four-hundred years old.

What the hell was an old man, one dressed in
servant's clothes, doing trying to kill me?

Belatedly, I realized I was still blocked
from the scene by the wall of dark smoke, in a scene uncannily
similar to that of my dreams. As I stared at the center of the
smoke, a figure formed, black as the void I travelled through to
reach Edin. It wavered and flickered until finally resolving into
the form of a man, over seven feet tall and broad at the shoulders.
There was no face to make out, no clear features beneath the
shifting mass of smoke; but there were eyes, burning emerald and
indigo orbs that seared through me, stripping me bare to the bone,
as though they were reading my very marrow.

Suddenly the creature stood directly before
me, had somehow separated me from Tam and Hamsum, who had abandoned
the unconscious body on the floor and was now shouting loudly and
pounding his sword against an invisible barrier. The creature and I
were trapped together in a sphere of its making, a circular fence
of impenetrable smoke surrounding us, pressing us closer
together.