Lord of the White Hell Book One lotwh-1 (23 page)

"The wards binding the Old Rage are intact. They've been nicked at here and there but not damaged. As for the jays, their master is definitely a man and a Cadeleonian, I think. A very ugly soul and very arrogant."

"So, Kiram might be right," Rafie said. "This man is using the Old Rage for his own purpose."

"It would seem so." Nakiesh nodded. "I felt a deep hunger for power in his presence. He would have liked to devour our sisters if he could have. But we were not his primary interest. He is focused on exploiting the shadow of the curse towards someone within the fortress."

"A Cadeleonian murdering Cadeleonians." Liahn tilted her head slightly and glanced to Alizadeh. Kiram was still so stunned by what he had witnessed that he almost missed the amusement in Liahn's expression. "Not even using a real curse. Is this really a Bahiim concern?"

"If the Old Rage is awakened it will be," Alizadeh replied.

"But that doesn't seem to be happening." Liahn looked to Nakiesh and Nakiesh nodded. "The wards haven't been disturbed. They've remained the same now for years. Whoever he is, he knows better than to awaken the Old Rage. He's just casting its shadow at his enemies."

"What do you mean when you say a man is casting the shadow of a curse?" Kiram asked. The crow on Liahn's shoulder blinked at him.

"A curse like the Old Rage is immense and so malevolent that even sealed away it radiates a presence," Alizadeh replied. "It lies across its surroundings the way a shadow covers the land. We Bahiim can see the shadow even when the object casting it is hidden from us."

"To control or stop a curse you must stand in its shadow," Liahn said. "But no one can step into the curse itself. That is certain death."

Alizadeh nodded. "This man on the hill couldn't hope to be able to structure a curse as vast as the Old Rage but he can feed his own power into its shadow. The resulting creation will move like the Old Rage. It will come in nightmares and whispers first, then settle. It will even destroy like the Old Rage but it doesn't have any of the Old Rage's power. That he has to provide. Do you understand?"

Kiram thought about it for a moment.

"Do you mean that he's using the shadow of the Old Rage like a mold? He's casting his own curse in its shape?"

"Yes, that's basically it." Alizadeh nodded.

"So, how do we stop him?" Kiram asked.

There was an odd quiet. Kiram was suddenly aware that all the crows seemed to be regarding him, just as Nakiesh was, with a look of pity.

"At the moment it's a question of whether we're required to stop him, not how we will do it," Liahn said. "What one Cadeleonian does to another isn't our concern and getting involved has never served us in the past."

"But he's killing Fedeles and he wants to kill Javier!" Kiram couldn't help but raise his voice. "They're my friends!"

"Calm down, Kiri." Rafie's tone was harder than Kiram had ever remembered it sounding. "This isn't a decision to be made lightly. It's not a matter of who anyone likes or doesn't like. It's dangerous for the Bahiim to make their presences felt here in the northern counties. And no one has invited them to intercede."

"Javier would-"

"Of course he would. But your friend Javier is not who would need to extend the invitation. It would have to be the royal bishop of the Cadeleonian Church," Rafie said firmly. "The Bahiim can legally intercede in Cadeleonian affairs only if they are given the blessing of the royal bishop."

"I imagine that the royal bishop has more than one reason to withhold his blessing," Liahn commented. "Not only would it make his church look powerless, it would defeat his own machinations, wouldn't it?"

"What do you mean?" Kiram demanded.

"He is the end point of all Cadeleonian inheritance," Liahn said. "If a noble family is wiped out, then their lands and titles are ceded to the divine rule of the church. The royal bishop, Prince Nugalo, stands to inherit the dukedom. Why would he ask us to stop that from happening?"

Kiram felt a sudden cold dread and he remembered Prince Sevanyo warning Javier that he didn't want Rauma to fall into his brother's hands. He had meant the royal bishop.

"If this has been going on for eighteen years, as you say Kiram, then the royal bishop has had more than enough time to place a request before a Bahiim council." Rafie gave Kiram a sympathetic look as if Javier were already dead.

"The man on the hill is probably the royal bishop's agent," Liahn said. "Do they keep priests up in that academy?"

Kiram nodded. The sick chill clenching his stomach intensified.

"There's a chapel and a holy father. He administers muerate poison to Javier as penance." Kiram's voice trembled as he spoke. It was so obvious. Holy Father Habalan actively poisoned Javier. He bled him and kept him from accessing the healing strength of the white hell. And Javier submitted himself to the ministrations because he trusted his church.

"He gave muerate poison to a student and no one in the academy objected?" Rafie asked.

"It's what they all expect," Kiram replied. "Javier inherited the white hell from his ancestor Calixto. Everyone expects him to endure harsh penances because he's damned."

"Cadeleonians and their hells," Nakiesh muttered. She pulled her knees up to her chest. Liahn removed her own heavy wrap and placed it over Nakiesh's shoulders. For a few moments they were all quiet. A few of the crows preened their wings.

"We should return to the wagons soon. I'll tell the Circle of the Crooked Pine what we've discovered," Liahn said. Then she looked at Kiram. "But they aren't going to intercede in Cadeleonian business. I already know that. I'm sorry, boy. But that's how things are."

Kiram couldn't meet her pale green gaze. Instead he cast his eyes down at the worn floorboards.

"I'll report to the Circle of the Willow Grove and the Circle of the Red Oak in Anacleto," Alizadeh said. "They might offer their assistance to the royal bishop. There isn't much more they could do."

Kiram nodded. He couldn't stop thinking of that moment when he had found Javier on the chapel grounds, lying there like he was dead.

He couldn't give Javier up. No matter how foolish it might be to intercede in Cadeleonian business he would intercede. He would do something. He had to.

He'd promised Fedeles as much, hadn't he?

After Liahn and Nakiesh and their sister crows had gone, Rafie turned back to study Kiram.

"Don't you get any strange ideas, Kiri. Alizadeh and I are taking you back to Anacleto with us. It's not safe for you here."

"What? No!"

"Yes," Rafie said flatly.

"You can't just take me out of the academy!" Kiram scrambled for any reason. "Mother's already paid my full tuition-"

"We both know she'd give up your tuition a hundred times over to keep you from harm."

"But I'm in the midst of the autumn tournament. I've made commitments. I have to serve as squire to my upperclassman and I have another day of duels." Kiram knew he was babbling but the thought of just being whisked away from Javier and Nestor and the academy was too terrible.

"You're not going to be taking part in anything if you get killed." His uncle pinned him with a hard glare. "This isn't a game, Kiram."

"You think I don't know that?" Kiram snapped back. "I've seen Javier lying in a pool of his own blood because of what the holy father is doing to him. My friend Fedeles is being tortured to the point of madness! I know this is serious-"

"We won't be leaving until the Irabiim are done with their business here," Alizadeh broke in with a calm that silenced both Kiram and his uncle. "That should allow Kiram time to see out the end of the autumn tournament and say his goodbyes."

Rafie glared at Alizadeh but Alizadeh simply cocked his head and offered him a crooked smile. "You'll know where he is this way and watching him compete will give us an excuse to get closer to the residents of Sagrada Academy and see if we can't discover a little more about this shadow curse."

Kiram saw the muscles of Rafie's jaw clench on an angry retort, and he nearly offered Alizadeh an argument as well. So much anger and frustration churned up inside him that he could hardly think, but he at least recognized that Alizadeh's proposal was an improvement over the immediate departure that Rafie wanted.

Outside the window the city bells rang out. Half past five.

"I have to go and report to Master Ignacio if I'm going to remain in the tournament." Kiram didn't meet Rafie's eyes. He simply bowed his head and waited.

"All right," Rafie said at last. "But you come back here when you're done."

He nodded his assent and took his leave.

As Kiram closed the door he saw Alizadeh shake his head at Rafie, his expression somehow both amused and deeply sad.

K
iram arrived at the city stables late but not far behind the bulk of the second-year students. Master Ignacio hardly seemed to take notice, only giving him a hard disapproving glare as he hurried past. Kiram wasn't sure if Master Ignacio was feeling generous towards him for his success in the fencing ring or if the war master was simply too angry with the student who arrived drunk to care about Kiram's tardiness.

The drunken student was held down in a horse trough until Kiram thought he might actually drown. Then he was hauled out, dripping wet, and dragged away by two grooms to do penance in the city chapel.

Kiram quickly took his place beside Nestor among the second-year students in the stable yard. He glimpsed Javier ahead of him, standing next to Elezar, but couldn't seem to catch his attention. Elezar playfully punched Javier in the shoulder several times, until Javier retaliated.

"I was worried when Javier showed up alone," Nestor said.

"I bumped into my uncle and spent the afternoon with him."

"Oh, that must have been nice." Nestor suddenly frowned. "Is something wrong? You look rather angry."

"I thought my uncle of all people would understand but he didn't. He wants me to leave the academy. He doesn't think I'll be safe here."

"What? No, you can't go!" Nestor frowned deeply. "You've just gotten settled in. Damn it, Kiram, I don't want you to leave!"

"I don't want me to leave either."

"We'll have to convince your uncle that you're just as safe here as you would be at home."

But he wasn't as safe. He couldn't be. Back in Anacleto he would be smothered in security. His family and neighbors insulated him in the familiar and only the most decent Haldiim socialized with him. Nowhere could be as safe as his mother's house back in Anacleto, where he would be shut away from the rest of the world.

"Maybe my mother could talk to your uncle." Nestor seemed to consider the thought for a moment and then shook his head. "Probably not. She'll end up explaining how battle and injury bring men closer to the true faith. That probably wouldn't mean much to a Haldiim."

"Not my uncle, no." Kiram scowled down at the dirt. Next to him Nestor hung his head.

"When do you have to leave?" Nestor asked dejectedly.

"After the tournament." Kiram glanced back towards Javier and discovered that his attention was returned. For a moment, Javier seemed about to break away from the other third-year students and come to him but then Elezar grabbed Javier's neck and after that all of his attention turned to wrestling out of Elezar's grip.

"So, we've got a week to change your uncle's mind." Nestor continued his strategizing. "Do you think a fellow physician like Scholar Donamillo could convince him?"

"I don't know if anything is going to change his mind." Suddenly Kiram felt like he couldn't stand to dwell on the hopelessness of it for another moment, so he changed the subject. "How did it go with the girl, Yellow Butterflies?"

A flush spread across Nestor's cheeks.

"I'm in love," he said very quietly and very seriously. "Her name is Riossa Arevillo. She draws really well and she loved the Mirogoth shapechanger. And she wants to meet you."

Nestor's afternoon had been so different from his own. At least one of them had enjoyed the day.

"She sounds nice," Kiram said and he meant it.

Nestor's lovestruck expression slipped suddenly into one of melancholy. "I thought today was going to be the happiest day of my life, but now you're going to be taken out of the academy. It just doesn't seem fair."

"It's not," Kiram agreed. He couldn't make himself accept the thought of abandoning Javier and Fedeles to Prince Nugalo. "But what choice do I have? Even if I refuse to go, Rafie would only have to tell my mother that the academy is dangerous and she'll withdraw my tuition."

Master Ignacio shouted out for silence and all conversations immediately ended. Elezar even stopped taking playful swipes at Javier and stood at attention with the rest of the students.

Master Ignacio paced along the long rows of the gathered students, taking roll and demanding to know where they intended to spend the night in the city. Those who didn't answer quickly enough or whose responses he didn't like were assigned beds at the church hostel.

Atreau wasn't even allowed to get his answer fully articulated before Master Ignacio assigned him to the church hostel. The majority of the students were staying with their families, many of whom owned townhouses in Zancoda, which were maintained specifically for the yearly tournaments.

The Grunito family owned one, as did the Helio and Quemanor. There was even a Tornesal townhouse, though only one Tornesal remained to occupy it.

Kiram wondered how Master Ignacio would respond to the idea of one of his students boarding at an inn like the Laughing Dog. For an instant Kiram smirked, imagining the Master's dilemma of either accepting a shoddy inn at the edge of the city or having to assign a Haldiim to a church bed.

Nestor's turn came.

"I'll be at the Grunito townhouse with my-"

"Fine," Master Ignacio cut him off, moving on to Kiram. "And you?"

"I.I'll be staying with upperclassman Javier at the Tornesal townhouse," Kiram said in a rush of defiance. Never in his life had he been so disobedient as to disregard one of his uncle's directives, but he had to warn Javier about Holy Father Habalan as soon as possible.

Immune to the momentous nature of Kiram's decision, Master Ignacio simply nodded, jotted it down in the roll book and moved on.

Once all the students' future whereabouts had been established, Master Ignacio announced that he expected all of them back at the city stables tomorrow morning before first morning bell, adding that if he discovered any of them out on the city streets after eighth bell this evening, he would personally beat them to a pulp. After that Master Ignacio dismissed them to their lodgings for the evening. Kiram and Nestor jostled through the crowd to meet up with Javier and Elezar. Outside, carriages lined the street and groups of students crammed into them to share fares to their lodgings.

"I thought you would stay with your uncle," Javier said.

Kiram could see that he was trying, unsuccessfully, to hide an arrogant smile. Javier clearly gloried in the fact that Kiram had chosen his company. His triumphant pleasure verged on egotism and yet Kiram found him charming.

And that made him feel even more depressed.

"Kiram's uncle is pulling him out of the academy!" Nestor announced, before Kiram could reply.

"What?" Javier's pleased expression collapsed.

"Rafie thinks it's too dangerous for me here." Kiram's throat felt tight. Just saying the words made him feel like he was already leaving, as if it was inevitable.

"Well, that's a hard lump of shit to swallow." Elezar sighed and shook his head as though he had expected something like this to happen. "Just because you got a little cut on your arm?"

"It's not just that but I'm sure it didn't help." Kiram glanced to Javier, but couldn't read any emotion in his expression now. His features seemed set as perfectly as those of a statue.

"God forbid you ever fall down and break a bone," Elezar said. "Your uncle would probably lock you up in your room for the rest of your life."

"There's got to be some way we can change his mind," Nestor protested.

"I don't know." Kiram had expected Javier to rail against this-not just expected, but wanted it. Instead, Javier stared silently at the street ahead, frowned slightly, and then looked to Elezar.

"Are you two taking a carriage to the Grunito townhouse?"

"No, we have to meet our mother at the chapel." Elezar made a sour face. "You coming?"

"Not tonight. My bailiff is expecting me at the townhouse. Give your mother my apologies."

"Sure," Elezar replied. Then, to Kiram, "Sorry you're getting pulled out. At least you'll have one glorious tournament to your name before you go."

Kiram nodded somewhat numbly. Nestor looked like he would say something but Elezar caught his shoulder.

"Come on, you." Elezar gave Nestor an appraising look as they began towards the nearest carriage. "I hear you met a girl."

"The Tornesal townhouse isn't far." Javier didn't look at Kiram, but instead turned and strode along the raised walkway, forcing Kiram to rush to catch up with him, though once he reached Javier's side he found he had nothing to say that could be said in public, so they walked together in silence.

The Tornesal townhouse stood out from the other nobles' townhouses by virtue of both its size, which was immense, and its simplicity. Onyx inlays of black suns decorated the white marble walls but there were no ornately carved sconces, nor any golden filigree. Surrounded by wildly decorated pleasure houses, it looked grim and ancient. The massive doors, with their iron reinforcements and the narrow windows, remained from an age when peasant riots were common and livestock was kept indoors.

The moment Javier approached the doors two servants in black and white piebald liveries pulled them open.

"Welcome home, Lord Tornesal." The doormen greeted Javier in unison. Javier didn't acknowledge either of them nor did they seem to expect him to, though they both glanced sidelong at Kiram as he followed Javier into the brilliant light of the house.

Inside, hundreds of candles blazed from iron candelabras and the white stone walls seemed to glow with the light. In the entry room, three more serving men greeted Javier respectfully and bowed deeply to him. They peered at Kiram as if he was some kind of strange curiosity, but said nothing to him. One of them bowed out of the room but the other two lingered, occupied by replacing several guttered candles.

Javier abruptly stopped and pivoted around, startling Kiram backward. "I have to meet with my bailiff and with one of my bankers. I didn't think you'd be staying here with me so I scheduled most of the evening with them. You can entertain yourself for a little while, can't you?"

"Yss, but after that I need to talk to you. Alone." His lowered voice seemed to boom through the open space. He felt the presence of the serving men too intensely.

"I'll try to hurry things up. We could take dinner together in an hour or so," Javier said.

"Sounds fine."

Then Javier called one of the servants to him and directed the servants to escort Kiram around the townhouse. When the servant asked what room Kiram would be using for the night Kiram quickly suggested that he'd be happy to share Lord Tornesal's room.

"I realize you weren't expecting me and I don't want to cause all the trouble of preparing another room," he explained more for the servant's sake than to convince Javier.

"Of course, you won't have to spend the night on the floor in my room. This isn't the academy, after all." The frustration in Javier's voice was palpable. "The green room should do. It's near the library."

Javier took his leave and the servant led Kiram on a brief tour of the townhouse. Most of the huge structure was closed up. Furniture was covered, carpets rolled away and fireplaces had been cleaned and sealed up to keep out bats. Nothing was so unkempt as to seem abandoned but a sense of emptiness pervaded the house. Entire suites seemed like preserved historical specimens.

At one time the building had to have been inhabited by more than just staff. Once the Tornesal family had occupied the halls and numerous entertaining rooms. Someone had played the harpsichord in the music room and no doubt many members of the family had sat at the card table.

But now Javier was left alone with this edifice of a house and its huge, desperately attentive staff, who occupied themselves obsessively with the vast minutiae of sweeping, dusting and polishing every surface of the place.

Kiram glanced to the hollow-faced saint chiseled over a stone doorway and absently thought that he'd been told about that particular style of sculpture. Had it ended just before King Nazario's death? He couldn't remember.

He was escorted to the second floor past the library to the green room, which turned out to be a large suite with slit windows that overlooked a small herb garden. The bed was hard and cold, but the deep green linens on it smelled freshly laundered. There was a bath and Kiram used it.

Afterwards he was loath to dress in his old clothes. Instead he wrapped a towel around his waist and lay back on the bed. A fire blazed in the hearth and Kiram stared up a the ceiling, feeling troubled and at the same time too exhausted to do more than lie there and watch the shadows dance above him.

His arm hurt. His head ached. He closed his eyes and if he slept he didn't dream, but when he opened his eyes the room had darkened. Outside, he could hear rain falling.

"We should run away," Kiram murmured to himself.

"Where would we go?" a quiet voice responded. Javier leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, skin luminous in the dim, golden light. He'd washed recently and his hair was glossy black.

Kiram asked, "How long have you been there?"

"Not too long." Javier sounded weary. "I was enjoying the view."

"You should have woken me up." A slight breeze fluttered through the room and suddenly he became aware that the towel must have slipped off his hips. Javier watched, with a smile as Kiram reached for but did not replace the towel. He felt a confusing mixture of embarrassment and pleasure at being so ardently observed. Then he heard someone clomping up the stairs and quickly covered himself.

"My valet, bringing clothes for you to wear to dinner," Javier explained.

A moment later, an old man bowed past Javier and laid out the suit of fresh clothes. The pants, jacket and vest were all Tornesal black but not servant's dress. Silver threads decorated the silk vest and the white shirt was flawless linen. The trousers were silk as were the stockings. The clothes fit him decently, but had obviously belonged to someone with broader shoulders and thicker thighs.

Javier watched him dress and the valet waited, pretending to watch nothing. But when Kiram caught the older man's gaze flicker to Javier's face and then to Kiram's own body, he missed a button of the vest and had to unbutton it and start again.