Heroes Adrift (4 page)

“What if I were to tell you that I am prepared to create for you from the Imperial treasury an estate equal to that of Westsea, yours to name and rule?”

What the
hell
was she doing?

“There would be no hint of a violation of the law. You would not be encroaching on the rights of the Duchess of Westsea. You would be the duke of your own lands, the beginning of a whole new line. With the funds to build your own property. And to staff it. Free to live life as a regular should you wish. Free to create your own traditions and procedures, with no interference from anyone else. What say you to that?”

Oh hell. Not again. I didn't want to go through that again. And this was worse. If he accepted this offer—was it a real offer? would she really do this?—he would still remain free of his mother. And the rest of the family he had insulted in previous conversations. He could decide what responsibilities he would have, without the weight of former titleholders and the expectations of others hampering his movements. It was all the advantages of having a wealthy title, with many of the liabilities sliced away.

Damn damn damn.

I couldn't look at him. I couldn't watch. I knew, from peripheral vision, that he looked at me, but I wouldn't look back. He knew what I felt about such an idea; he had to. But I wasn't going to do or say anything else about it. I wasn't going to try to influence him. I had no right to. It had nothing to do with me.

“Your Majesty's generosity overwhelms me, but in order to assume such responsibilities, I would have to withdraw from the Triple S. I cannot do that. I have no experience or talent for ruling. I have both for being a Source.”

Thank the gods. Thank Zaire. Thank everything.

Maybe I could hug him now.

But why was she asking? What was this all about?

“What do you think of the quota, Source Karish?”

“The quota?”

“The movement to have members of the merchant class”—she flicked a look at me—“in the council.”

“Your Majesty.” Karish appeared a bit flustered. “I have to admit I have no real opinion on the matter.”

“And you really don't care?”

Karish was a shade away from squirming.

“And what do you think of the idea of dividing our lands into stricter jurisdictions?” she asked.

“Your Majesty?”

“It has been suggested by some that small collections of cities should be amalgamated, somewhat, so that all the cities would have a central form of government between them, such government then answering to me. What do you think?”

“Uh,” and here Karish was obviously caught completely off guard. “I'm afraid this is the first I've heard of such an idea, Your Majesty.”

The Empress looked surprised. “Shield Mallorough, have you heard of this scheme?”

I glanced at Karish.

“Come come, Shield Mallorough, everyone already knows that Shields are more aware of such things than Sources. Surely Source Karish will not be offended if you admit to knowing something he does not.”

True, he wasn't the sort to get in a temper over such things. Still, I didn't like doing anything that might embarrass him in front of strangers. “Yes, I have heard a little about it, Your Majesty.”

“And what do you think of the idea?”

Hm. Panic. That's what it feels like.

The Empress smiled. “You don't know which side I favor,” she teased gently.

That was, indeed, the problem.

“Speak, Shield. What do you think?”

Hell. “While centralization of services can eliminate duplication of expenses, it seems to create more problems than it solves. By necessity, a site must be chosen for the government offices to exist, and people hired to work in them. That site and those people will know all about the problems and issues of their own cities, but have little experience with or feeling for other cities. Each city has its own difficulties, its own culture and priorities, and as much as possible their government institutions and services should reflect that.” Actually, I could go on about that for a good hour, because I thought it was a stupid idea, but for one thing, one did not lecture the Empress, and for another, she might be all for centralization. Offending royalty was bad.

“And what do you plan to do to advance your opinion, to attempt to have it received by those with the power to do something about it?”

“Nothing, Your Majesty.”

“Why not?”

“I don't pay taxes, Your Majesty.” Did she know that? Did I just say too much? Wouldn't it be brilliant if Triple S members started getting taxed because of something I'd said? “And I know I'll be spending much of my life traveling from city to city. I'll probably never get any sort of fellow feeling for the people I live with. So I suppose I feel it isn't my place to interfere with politics. And I don't know much about it, really.”

The Empress snickered. “Lack of knowledge doesn't seem to interfere with anyone else's plans.”

Perhaps not, but I was a highly superior individual.

“It was you, Source Karish, who discovered who was behind the unusual attacks on High Scape last year, was it not?”

“I think that particular phrasing might be giving me too much credit, Your Majesty.”

“And the disappearances last summer?”

“Oh no, Your Majesty. That was entirely the Runners.”

“You were there, and I know you were involved in the investigation.”

“Not at all, Your Majesty.”

Her Majesty looked impatient. “I have read certain reports, Source Karish, in which it is admitted that your Shield was instrumental in the making of certain connections that led to the arrest of the Reanists.”

Karish looked at me. I looked back in some alarm, and shrugged. I had asked Erin Demaris some questions, who had then asked Risa, his sister, the Runner, and perhaps that had started someone thinking along certain lines that may have contributed to the ultimate arrest of the Reanists. But my influence, such as it was, would have been so minor it wouldn't deserve mention. And I hoped to find everyone who'd written reports that claimed the contrary so I could smack them up the back of the head.

“You cannot deny, Source Karish, that you certainly seem to be around whenever these mysteries are revealed.”

“I do seem to enjoy a certain amount of bad luck, Your Majesty.”

Please, let this not be an example of that bad luck.

Send us home, Your Majesty.

“Have either of you seen anything like this?” The Empress pulled down the glove on her left hand, revealing her wrist.

We leaned in closer to have a look. It was a tattoo, thin lines of light blue, outlining what looked like the shape of a flower, only no flower I had ever seen. It looked like only three petals, one leaning to either side and one above them, on a vertical line.

“No, Your Majesty,” said Karish, and I echoed him.

“Good,” she said. “Only those born to the royal line have them. Our intimates see them, of course, but no one but those born to the royal blood have them, and those so born must have them. It is like our own little code, in addition to the words that must be spoken to our solicitor.”

Well, as conversations went, this was certainly tangential.

“I have it, as does the Crown Prince and his children. So do certain of my aunts and uncles, and my cousins. It is a means of recognizing each other, even when we haven't heard of each other previously.”

She was fiddling with her glove. She suddenly looked nervous. What could she be nervous about?

The Empress appeared to draw in a fortifying breath. “I am about to tell you a family secret,” she said. “The label itself is misleading, as I am in fact the only one who knows this secret. I am required to speak of it to you. Should you accept this secret, you will give me your oath that you shall never reveal it to anyone. If I find that you have—and I will learn of any such indiscretions—I will have you both executed. Is that understood?”

Perfectly. So, did this mean I could choose not to accept the secret? Because I had enough of my own, thanks.

“Will you accept this burden?”

No.

Like we actually had a choice.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” said Karish, ever tactful, ever stupid.

The Empress looked at me, because she wasn't stupid, and she knew I needed prodding to take on this responsibility with Karish. “Aye, Your Majesty.”

She nodded. Then she hesitated a moment, possibly trying to determine how to broach whatever awful subject she was about to introduce to us. “I had a sister, born little more than a year after me,” she said. “Her name was Ara, and when she was herself less than a year old, it was said that she had died. But she had not.”

Strange. I had never read of an Ara in the royal family. Even one who had allegedly died.

“She was not my father's child, and when I was young, to have a child outside of marriage was nearly a criminal act among royalty, a violation of the promises made between the two families to have what was considered only pure children within the household. My mother then had been cursed with an unruly court, greedy and ambitious and striving to grow beyond the roles set down for them. It was feared that a sexual indiscretion might be just the thing to tip balance from my mother's favor, especially if she lost the support of her husband's family, who were very powerful in their own right.

“It became obvious very early that the child was not my father's issue. Her hair, eyes and skin were all too dark. My father, you may recall, was very fair. Having little interest in infants, my father had not yet noticed the differences, but he would. And so the logical thing to do would have been to have the child killed, poisoned perhaps, and tell my father and the world that she had died.”

The logical thing. Very logical. Cold. Poisoning a child. I hoped my Shield training was holding firm. It wouldn't do for the Empress to see that I was disgusted with her.

“My mother, however, couldn't bear the idea of killing her daughter. And so, instead, the child was sent away with a single companion. She was sent to one of the Southern Islands, off the south continent. Flatwell, it was called. And she was fostered with a farming family called the Bryants. Prosperous but not prominent. Ara was to be raised as a daughter of the house.”

It had always irritated me, how often children were the ones to pay for the stupidity of their parents.

“She was not to be told of her parentage, but she had been given the tattoo at birth, and the companion, a woman by the name of Laura Secord, was to be sure that any children of Ara's were similarly tattooed. Just in case it would suit us to have another royal line.”

Having your cake and eating it, too. I was not impressed.

“My mother maintained a certain level of correspondence with Secord for a while, but the correspondence suddenly halted when Ara would have been a young girl. My mother didn't feel able to investigate into the halt. She feared showing too much interest in the girl.”

Uh-huh. Sounded a little weak to me.

“When I was old enough, my mother told this secret to me, and impressed upon me its importance. Before today, I have never spoken of it.” The Empress paused, a faraway look in her eyes. “I wish to know what has happened with Ara and her descendants. You will go to Flatwell and bring her descendants to me. You will not leave Flatwell until you have found them or, if there are none, until you have learned what happened to Ara.”

Karish looked stunned. “Me, Your Majesty?”

“And your Shield, of course. I wouldn't want you to experience any discomfort during your travels.”

Was she…was she serious? She couldn't be serious. What the hell kind of assignment was that to send a Pair on?

She didn't want us as decoration. She didn't want us as Erstwhile's Pair. She wanted us to head out into the middle of nowhere and do some nasty, secret little job for her.

She had no right to make us do anything of the sort. We belonged to the Triple S, not the royal family. Other than the choice of her own Pair, an exception for the sake of courtesy, the Empress was to have absolutely no authority over Triple S members. Certainly, she didn't have the right to pull us off the roster and send us off for something that had nothing to do with our legitimate duties.

On the other hand, we had already been pulled off the roster. Our position with the Empress was precarious, to say the least. She knew something had gone on in Middle Reach, something we hadn't told anyone.

Zaire, what a mess.

“But Your Majesty,” Karish sputtered on, brave lad. “For that kind of work, that kind of expertise, you want a Runner.”

“Reveal my personal business to a Runner? I hardly think so.”

Why not? Couldn't she threaten his life, too?

“Then a member of your own guard.”

“None of them are trained to do this sort of work.”