Call of the Colossus: An epic fantasy novel (The Mindstream Chronicles Book 2) (44 page)

Rivva sat in her father’s office across the desk from him, reading over the most recent casualty report from the Legion chief. The names on the list were strangers to her, but they were also husbands and fathers, sons and brothers. Beside each name was a single word describing the manner of his death, followed by the name of the soldier’s hometown. Their shrouded corpses would be loaded into the back of a wagon and carted off to Jolver, where they would then be loaded into other wagons bound for their final destination.

She pressed her lips together, remembering her two brothers returned from war the same way. Even princes—the first two heirs to the throne of Serocia—were not immune to death on the battlefield, a fact that had yet to move the king to stop the war. If only Jora had some answer for it aside from interfering in the smuggling. The king might not be so eager to entertain alternatives to war, but Rivva was. She looked up at her father, sitting behind his desk.

He sighed and pushed the spectacles up his nose, then flipped a few pages and fell silent once again.

She considered broaching the subject of the gold coins again when a knock came at the door.

“Come in.” King Yaphet looked up, his eyebrows arched.

A messenger strode forward and offered him a folded paper. “From the justice sergeant at the jailhouse, sire.”

“What now?” He took the paper, broke the wax seal, and unfolded it. His eyes scanned the page. “God’s bloody challenger.”

“Is there a reply, Your Majesty?” the girl asked.

“No. Wait, yes. Deliver this to Dominee Ibsa.”

“Another messenger was dispatched to her at the same time, sire.”

Rivva knitted her brow at that.

“Very well,” her father said. “You’re dismissed.” As soon as the girl bowed and left, he turned to Rivva. “Which means she’ll be storming over here any minute.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Jora has escaped, and she’s taken the two Colossus warriors with her.”

On the inside, Rivva cheered, though she was careful to keep her face expressionless. “What do you think she’ll do?”

“I wish I knew. Probably try to flee the city. The enforcers are searching for her now.” He set the message down and looked over the top of his spectacles at her. “You’ve befriended her. Do you truly think she has no designs on the throne?”

“Yes,” Rivva said. “She’s probably going somewhere safe.”
Or coming for her brother.
Rivva had told the two Colossus warriors Finn was being kept in the palace.

“What a mess,” he muttered, standing. He went to the window to look out over the garden. “Ibsa is going to be livid. I don’t know how to keep Jora safe without angering the dominee.”

“So what if you anger her?” Rivva asked. “She’s appointed by you. If she gets mouthy, fire her.”

In a soft voice, he said, “If I can sit down with Jora and find out what she wants…” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s all falling apart anyway.”

“What’s falling apart? Papa, I can help you. Tell me what’s wrong.”

For the first time, she noticed the bags underneath his eyes, the deep wrinkles beside them, the lines in his face that drew his mouth into a frown. When had he turned into an old man? Not the happy old man she’d always assumed he would become, but a bitter old man. Regretful. That was it. That was what she saw in his face. Had he not lived his life the way he’d wished? Had he wanted to do more?

“Tell me,” she urged softly.

“In the hours and days to come, you may hear things you don’t understand. Things you don’t want to believe. One day, I’ll explain why I made the choices I did, but for now, the only explanation that makes any sense at all is cowardice. You see–”

“What in the hell is going on?” demanded a female voice.

Rivva turned to see Dominee Ibsa storming into the room uninvited. As always, she was dressed in her orange hooded robe, though the hood was never in place over her hair.
It would cover up the gem-encrusted hair pins, and we can
’
t have that.

“Dominee,” the king said, his face reddening. “I see you’ve received my message.”

“Why are you just standing there?” Ibsa asked. “Why aren’t you scouring the streets looking for her?”

“You would have me go myself? Perhaps you’d ask the queen and the princess to go as well, to put on their walking shoes and go out hunting for a fugitive, armed with a kitchen knife in case they came upon her?”

“Of course not,” she snapped. “I meant your guards. They’re standing about, doing nothing when they should be out there looking for her.” The dominee pointed out the window, though she was pointing toward the southwest—the opposite direction of the city center and the likeliest places to find the escaped Gatekeeper.

“Leaving the palace unguarded wouldn’t be wise,” Rivva said. “Wouldn’t it be embarrassing if an escaped prisoner strolled through our front door?”

Dominee Ibsa eyed Rivva up and down with contempt. “This is adult business. Why don’t you run along and play with your dolls?”

“Why don’t you mind your tongue, Dominee?”

“You’ve got the enforcers out looking for her,” the king said. “What makes you think my guards will be any more effective?”

Rivva let out a sigh. It was clear her father was weak where the dominee was concerned, though it wasn’t yet clear why. Rivva had to help him, but how? He wouldn’t stand up to Dominee Ibsa directly, and he wouldn’t let his daughter do it for him. Perhaps Mother knew the source of his disadvantage. Then a horrid thought occurred to her. What if the king and the dominee were embroiled in an affair?
No
, she thought, pushing the thought from her mind. He always relaxed when she left his company, never displaying wistfulness or longing.

“The more eyes on the street we have,” Ibsa said, “the better our chances. She’s wearing regular street clothes. Accompanied by two Colossus warriors, she shouldn’t be hard to find.”

Unless she
’
s underground.
Rivva gazed out the window as the idea tumbled about in her mind. Archesilaus had called the ancient tunnels The Meanders, which meant he knew his way around them. What would Rivva do in Jora’s shoes? Make sure Finn was safe. That would be her first priority. Spiriting him away would keep him out of harm’s way and put the advantage back in Jora’s lap for negotiating with the king.

Rivva might not be able to help her father against Dominee Ibsa in the light, but she could help him from the shadows. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said quietly, curtsying to the king. He acknowledged her with a glance, and she hurried away.

The Ministers of War and Foreign Matters were chatting in the hallway, and she smiled as she passed. She went upstairs to the residence floor where the royal family and their special guests slept. Down the hall from her bedroom was a room that had been used by various visiting dignitaries throughout the years. Today it was more like a comfortable prison cell, locked from the outside and guarded by an armed enforcer. He snapped to attention and saluted her.

She eyed him as she walked past on the way to her bedroom and shut the door behind her. Inside, she sat at her writing table, rifled through the drawers for a piece of paper, uncorked the ink bottle, and began to write.

Dearest Papa,

I
’
m sorry for what I’ve done and what I must do, but sometimes the right thing to do is the hardest. Forgive me.

All my love,

Rivva

She corked the ink bottle, wiped off the quill, and left the paper on her desk. Satisfied that her clothes, a simple blouse and trousers, and shoes were adequate for what was to come, she strode down the hallway once again.

“Shouldn’t you be out looking for the Gatekeeper with everyone else?” she asked the enforcer as she approached.

“Your Highness?” he asked.

“Oh, you probably didn’t know. The Gatekeeper has escaped from jail. Every spare enforcer, soldier, and guard is combing the streets looking for her. I was surprised to see you standing there.”

He swallowed. “Jora’s out? Then she’ll probably come here to retrieve him.”

Rivva smiled disarmingly. She must dissuade him from the idea. “Don’t be ridiculous. With the entire city looking for her, she’d be a fool to do anything but get as far away from here as possible.”

“He’s her brother.”

“I know that,” she said. “Breaking into the palace would be terribly risky. Do you think her stupid?”

“No, Your Highness. Not at all. I think her loyal and devoted. After what happened in Kaild, Finn is the only family she has left. She’d do anything to keep him safe.”

“You seem to know her well.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “What’s your name, Justice Officer?”

“Korlan Rastorfer, Your Highness.” He bowed deeply.

Recognition bloomed, and ideas begun forming. “Oh, you’re Jora’s friend, the one she wanted to help.”

“Yes, and I thank you most sincerely for your assistance, Your Highness,” he said.

“Why did the Justice Captain assign you to guard her brother? Does he not realize you’re friends?”

“The trust she once had in me is all but destroyed, Your Highness. Justice Captain Milad hopes to ruin any hope of my ever earning it back.”

“You wish to earn back her trust?”

He looked at her pensively for a moment. “I care for Jora, Your Highness, but I must also do my duty.”

There was something in the way he said those words that made her think his duty was far from his priority. She studied his brown eyes, searching for the answer. She knew little about him aside from the fact that he still had several years of service to Serocia left before he would return home. He’d spoken of Jora’s loyalty to her family as if it was something they shared. “What if you could do both?”

“If that were possible, I would welcome the chance.”

“Then unlock the door, Korlan.”

“Y-Yes, Your Highness.” He did as he was told, but sweat broke out on his brow, and his hand quivered as he slid the key into the lock.

When the door swung open, a shaven-headed man was standing there, no doubt listening to the exchange. He had dark stubble on his head and face and shared Jora’s large eyes and sharp nose, though he was taller than average where she was shorter, and he had a chiseled jaw where hers was more rounded. They looked enough alike that their shared parentage was plain.

“Finn Kyear,” she said, offering her hand, “I’m Rivva Bourye.”

Finn shook her hand gently. “Princess Rivva, I’m honored to make your acquaintance. Can you tell me why I’m here?”

“Soon. First, I need you to come with me.”

“Um, Your Highness?” Korlan said. His bald head gleamed with sweat, and it gushed down the sides of his face. “I’m not supposed to–”

“You come, too,” she told him. “By order of the princess and royal heir, you must obey.”

“Yes, Your Highness, but–”

“Do not be impudent, Justice Officer. I insist you do as I say.” She winked at him before starting off the way she’d come. The two men hesitated a step before falling in behind her.

She led the way to the servants’ staircase at the end of the hallway. Though it was dark and narrow, Rivva had used it many times to sneak down to the cellar for her occasional escape. She opened the door and waved them in. “Go slowly and step as quietly as you can. A rumble of pounding footsteps will draw attention.”

“Where are we going?” Finn asked.

“I must keep you safe, and there’s only one way to do that.”

Chapter 29

Like the others they’d passed, the wooden door was narrow and painted gray to match the stone walls of the tunnel. Etched in its surface were four symbols that Jora didn’t recognize. She traced them with her index finger. “What is this?”

“’Tis the palace,” Ludo said.

“The marks are an ancient script,” Arc explained. “Long lost, methinks, but if you spend enough time in the Meanders, you learn what symbols appear on each door.”

The symbols looked remarkably like those on the two warriors’ wrists. “So these mean palace?”

“I wot—know nie, portwatcher,” he said. “I know only the symbols on the door mark the palace. ’Tis intended as an escape for the royal family, but we who are charged wyth the king’s safety use it for to enter as well.”

She supposed it was smarter than marking the door with the word
palace
, in case an invading enemy found its way into the Meanders.

Arc tried pushing the door open, but it didn’t budge. He leaned his voulge against the wall, put his shoulder against the door, and rammed twice, but it held fast.

“’Tis barr’d vom inside,” Ludo said.

“We must break open the door,” Arc said.

“Who’s there?” a woman whispered from the other side of the door.

“Archesilaus and Ludovicus. We have brought a froend.”

Something rattled and scraped, and then the door swung open. Princess Rivva stood in the doorway, smiling, and waved them all in.

They stepped into a storeroom, where sacks of beans and rice and flour were stacked atop each other around the periphery. Two men stood behind Rivva. Jora’s gaze went immediately to her brother, and her eyes filled with tears.