Hunted (Book 3) (22 page)

Mena curtsied again. “This way, Highness. You will have my room, and I will take the one next to yours.”

“I don’t want to displace you,” the Chalaine said as they left the entryway of the hall and proceeded down a dark hallway, the twins following at a discreet distance. “Whatever I am given after the last several months will be a luxury. A comfortable bed and a warm fire are all I will insist upon. If you’ll forgive me, you seem a bit anxious. Is something wrong?”

“There are some people I was expecting . . . hoping . . . to see. They were a part of your Dark Guard, I believe. To own the truth, I wanted to see my husband.”

“You have a husband among the Dark Guard?” the Chalaine asked incredulously.

“It was a particular arrangement of my father’s.” Mena blushed. “After he conquered Tolnor, I was given to Gerand Kildan as wife. Did he never mention it?”

“I am afraid not, though I had little conversation with him, as he wasn’t one of my Protectors.”

The tears welled up in Mena’s eyes, and she turned away until she could force down the emotion. “Then Gen was right,” she finally said. “Gerand must despise me as a matter of honor.”

“And you’ve spoken to Gen?”
This woman is full of surprises.

“He never mentioned me? I assumed since he is your Protector that he might have brought up his visit to the Ellenais shard.”

“He didn’t. He was very miserly with details about his past.”

“And where is he, and the rest of your Dark Guard? I should think, from the stories, that Mikkik himself couldn’t drag that man from your side. And where is your husband? He so coveted Torbrand’s throne that I expected him to sleep in it for at least a week after returning.”

The Chalaine smiled wanly and checked the
animon
in her pocket. “I have much to share with you, Mena, but perhaps when we are alone. I am afraid, however, that most of what I have to say is not pleasant or hopeful.”

Mena nodded, face glum, and they proceeded through the hallways in silence.

While the Chalaine was grateful to be indoors, Ironkeep presented a sharp contrast to her home in Mikmir. Her mother’s Hall reflected art, refinement, and beauty, whereas Ironkeep’s theme centered around trophies and strength. The entirety of the structure was wood, and it felt like a sprawling lodge. Weapons of all varieties hung from the walls, intermixed with animal heads and various appendages of defeated enemies. Red carpets covered the floors in the public areas, while the natural wood of the floor was left bare in the living quarters save for a few plain rugs.

During the following week, the Chalaine found herself in company with her new handmaiden almost constantly, and she decided that she liked the young woman. Her feelings for Gerand revealed a tender, romantic heart, while her conversation demonstrated a maturity, intelligence, and self-command. The Chalaine told her what had happened during the journey to Elde Luri Mora, hiding her own feelings for Gen and his identity as the Ilch. In turn, Mena related Gen’s visit to Ellenais to her, providing more insight into a time Gen rarely spoke of.

Mena told her a few days later that Padra Athan had spread the word about Gen in the immediate environs around Ironkeep, and the Chalaine vehemently denounced his actions as the most vile and baseless slander. Mena took her side of the story without question. Aughmerians, it seemed, held the Church and its leaders in low esteem and had long suspected them of all manner of trickery and political maneuvering.

True to his word, Athan, faking commands from Chertanne, ordered the Chalaine into seclusion. Only Mena was allowed traffic in and out of the Chalaine’s chambers to serve her needs, though she proved adept at teasing information from guards and other servants about the keep and delivering it to the Chalaine. From what Mena could gather, Athan had ordered the entire Council of Padras to haste to Ironkeep, though bad weather and distance would delay their arrival for some time. Athan kept Mirelle under the same restrictions as her daughter, again, for the ostensible reason of keeping her safe.

But while the Chalaine at first found Athan’s measures to be punitive, she realized that her own seclusion was part of a larger plan to keep the secret of Chertanne’s death, for if the Chalaine were allowed to wander the halls of Ironkeep, then why wouldn’t Chertanne be afforded the same privilege? And from what Mena told her, speculation about the absence of the High King mounted daily, while the nature of Aughmerian culture provided the Chalaine the cover of unimportance.

As the days rolled slowly by, the Chalaine busied herself with reading and playing games with Mena. Against all odds and deepening snow, the Padras trickled into the keep by ones and twos, and at the end of three weeks Mena reported that the entire Council had arrived and had met in seclusion for two days straight. The Chalaine could only imagine their consternation and bewilderment. What does one do with a dead Ha’Ulrich? The Chalaine could only think of two possible options. They could have faith that the baby growing in her slowly expanding belly would redeem them without the Ha’Ulrich’s help, or they could find a suitable lookalike for Chertanne and let the charade begin in earnest.

The next day, one of her guards—Adrenne or Bradden, she couldn’t tell which—knocked on the door and informed her that Athan had summoned her to meet with the Council in an hour.

So they have come to some decision, have they?
she thought. While inwardly disdainful, excitement welled up within her at the prospect of knowing
anything
about how the next months would play out.

Athan had seen to it that properly noble attire was delivered to her shortly after her arrival, though to her dismay it was all white. She found the most ostentatious outfit of the lot and donned it quickly. Once ready, she followed between her two Protectors as one led the way and the other brought up the rear. Serving women, veiled and young, ogled her as she strode by, whispers blooming behind her.

Adrenne and Bradden led her back into the Great Hall and then up a flight of stairs to a large assembly area accessed through a pair of enormous doors that creaked wildly as they were opened. The room itself was unpleasant enough. Ironkeep had no glass for windows, so most of the shutters in the room were shut, the only light emanating from a roaring fire at one end of the room and a set of braziers glowing orange. A slight haze hovered about the room as she entered and walked steadily toward a long table on a plum-colored rug in the center of the room.

The Council rose at her approach, regarding her with curiosity.
I wonder if Athan has poisoned them against me or told them of our little ‘bargain.’
Athan signaled for her to sit next to him at a finely appointed chair set at the corner of the head of the table where he presided. Books littered the table, along with parchment and quills, although from a quick glance it appeared they had all turned whatever notes they had been writing upside down to not attract her scrutiny. Once she had seated herself, the screeching doors boomed shut, leaving her alone with the Council.

“We thank you for coming, High Queen,” Athan said. “I trust your needs have been adequately met these past few weeks?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Athan sat and the council followed suit. “Very well. Let’s get to the matter at hand. So you know, we have warded this room against prying ears so that we may speak freely. I have spent the last two days informing the Council of every detail of our journey, including my feelings about Gen, your actions, and the actions of your mother. I have also informed them frankly about Chertanne’s death, and we have spent the greater part of the last day discussing what options are available to remedy this.”

“Remedy?” the Chalaine exclaimed. “We must tell the people the truth! I know it will cause panic, but you cannot hope to carry on this ruse indefinitely. I know you trust your Eldephaere and the Churchmen under your control to guard this secret, but it will get out, if it hasn’t already.”

“We agree,” Athan answered. “Rumor and suspicion already ply their corrosive trade within Ironkeep, and with Ethris and Torbrand loose, I fear what weeds of dissent they may be sowing. Perhaps you know where they have run off to?”

“I am afraid not,” she answered truthfully.

“I didn’t think so. I will have to pay a visit to your mother for that, I suspect. At any rate, we have brought you here to inform you that we believe there is a way to restore your husband to life and set the prophecy back on course.”

“What? No one has had power to raise the dead since Eldaloth! Do you think I could do it? If you do, you are mistaken!”

Athan stood and paced around the table. “There are a great many mysteries that were forbidden to be spoken after the death of Eldaloth, knowledge dark and evil that would only serve to foment corruption and strife if it were known. What I am going to tell you now only those who are accepted into this Council are permitted to know. We have had some debate about whether to tell you at all, but I believe it important that you understand so that you can help us. Before I do, I wish to have your word that you will not spread what I tell you to anyone beyond this room.”

“As you wish.”

“Very well. In public Church doctrine, we teach that Mikkik slew Eldaloth after killing Owena and Haldir, the gods over Myn and Duam. We do not preach the particulars of these murders under the guise of ignorance or the scantiness of the ancient record. In truth, however, we have precise information on how Mikkik planned and implemented these evil deeds, thanks to a dissenter in Mikkik’s ranks who refused at the last to participate in Eldaloth’s death.”

“Aldemar,” the Chalaine said quietly, but not quietly enough. The Padras near her gasped in shock.

“How do you know that name, Chalaine?” Athan said, eyes wide. “It is the deepest secret.”

“I have spoken to him,” she said. “I do not care to share the particulars at this time other than to say that he showed me the manner of Eldaloth’s death.”

“Fascinating! But you must tell us more! That he still lives and would show himself to you after all this time is extraordinary and may lend us some knowledge we can use.”

“He did not choose to see me. Please ask me no more, for I will say nothing more of it.”

“Will you at least share with us what he showed you?”

The Chalaine acquiesced and related the vision to them. Quills dashed over hastily shuffled parchments as she spoke. “What I sensed that he wished me to learn was the difference between the wholeness and virtue of Ki’Hal before Eldaloth’s death in contrast to what it is now,” the Chalaine continued. “He also wanted to impress upon me the horror of what Mikkik had done to a being who was kind, just, and divine. It is something I will not forget.”

“Thank you, Highness, for this favor,” Athan said, “and we urge you to reconsider telling us the rest, though I will not press you now. What you have seen is the key to the first secret. The world knows that there are three great powers: Trys, Myn, and Duam. What Mikkik knew was that there is a fourth: blood. After Aldemar forsook his master, he sank into despair. In an attempt to atone for what he had done, he wrote every detail of the magic worked by his master in pursuit of his twisted ambition. That book lies in the chest against the wall, there, under some of the strongest magical protections placed upon any object in this world.

“The second secret, and the one that most particularly is of concern to us, is that blood holds the power to both utterly destroy—what we would call annihilation—and to revive, or unite soul and body together again. Of course, Mikkik was interested in the former while we are concerned with the latter.

“The third secret Aldemar revealed was that the blood of the several races was not of equal strength. The blood of Gods held more power than that of the Millim Eri, the Millim Eri, more than the elves, the elves more than dwarves, the dwarves more than the race of men.

“Lastly was the principle of seven. To utterly destroy another being or to return a soul to the body requires the blood of seven willing victims of the same race or seventy of the next lower race in power of blood. Thus, Mikkik brought seventy of the Mikik Dun to the glade that day for his spell. It is Aldemar’s dissension, we believe, that prevented Eldaloth from total annihilation that day.”

“So will you petition for seven willing victims to die so that Chertanne might live? Perhaps the Eldephaere?” the Chalaine asked, a knot forming in her stomach.

“Not precisely, for there is a complication. Chertanne, while in race a human, has unique blood that lends him the ability to manipulate Trysmagic. If we wish to revive him to his body with that ability, we have to find humans who also possess that gift. There is only one of those we know of, and you know well who that is.”

“Gen.” The Chalaine felt a sudden shiver.

“Precisely.”

“But there is only one!” the Chalaine said. “You need seven! And not only that, you need a willing victim! I doubt Gen would qualify.”

“We need the blood of seven, or in this case, one bled seven times. As for his willingness, I expect you to aid us there. You will heal him so that he may be bled, and you will speak with him to gain his consent.”

She shook her head. “This is madness! You don’t even know if this will work, do you? Did I not make my regard for Gen plain? How could I in good conscience ask him to submit to this?”

Athan strode straight for her chair, pulled it roughly around, and forced his gaze upon her.