Rift in the Races (85 page)

“Altin, I know who the Hostiles are,” she replied excitedly. “I know who
she
is. I’ve been speaking with her.”

“Her?” Altin asked the question, but even the elf looked curious.

Thadius had no time for that sort of thing. “Listen here, the lot of you. I won’t be manhandled in my own house. This is an outrage. I am Baron Thoroughgood’s son, nephew of the Earl of Vorvington, and second cousin once removed of the Queen. I will have you all drawn and quartered for this.”

“Not if I shoot you first,” said the colonel. “I don’t know what you’ve done to my daughter, but you better hope it’s not permanent.”

“She’s wonderful,” Orli went on, her expression vacant as she watched the images inside her head, the memories she shared with Blue Fire. “It’s all been a terrible misunderstanding.”

“Orli, what are you talking about?” Altin stepped toward her once more, but Thadius thrust himself in the way again. The elf yanked him back by the collar.

“Blue Fire. Her name is Blue Fire. She thought we were a disease. The Andalians. All of us, all of humanity. She thought we were infecting worlds. She was saving them. The planets. She had no idea we were sentient and intelligent. That we have souls. She didn’t know. She was in mourning for her mate. She is in mourning. She thinks we killed him too. Or that the Andalians did. That humans did. I told her we didn’t. I told her I didn’t think it was possible. She’s trying to understand. She says I have a beautiful soul.”

“You do,” said Altin. It came out reflexively, but he looked back at the colonel whose frown had not gone away. “You do have a beautiful soul.” What else could he say?

A sudden rush of air behind them delayed her answer, followed immediately by the appearance of the Queen some twenty paces off. She was accompanied by Envette and four armed men wearing the crimson tabards of the Palace Guard.

“Thadius Plagarth Farion Thoroughgood,” pronounced the Queen when she had her bearings, “what in the name of all my kingdom have you done?”

“Your Majesty,” he said. “I must say that your pet has overstepped his authority.”

“My assassin has absolute authority, and if he chose to split you from arse to eyeballs, I would no more question it than I would if he’d helped himself to a cup of tea.”

“Your Majesty,” Thadius protested, “this is intolerable.”

“Colonel Pewter,” the Queen went on, ignoring Thadius’ complaints. “Your people are very upset with you. I just left them, and as you can imagine, Captain Asad is beside himself with indignation, and even the mild-mannered Admiral Jefferies was imbibing at the fount of apoplexy.” She turned to Orli. “And you, child. I am so very happy to see that you are all right. I understand our good Lord Thadius rescued you from your captivity.” Her voice had a strange flatness to it at the end of the statement, quite despite the good tidings of which she spoke, and she followed that up with a glare at Thadius that, had it come from the colonel’s side arm, would have burned a hole straight through the young lord’s head.

Thadius’ gaze darted from the Queen to Orli and back. He looked half expectant, half in pain.

Orli only smiled. She gripped Thadius by the upper arm, moving closer to him, and laid her head on his shoulder.

Altin gaped. Only that. He could muster nothing else, so great was the shock of it.

The colonel did better, but not by much. “What was she doing in that cell?” he asked.

Thadius, sensing he may have found some ground to stand on, responded, saying, “We had to hide her from slaver spies.”

“In a cage?” The colonel did not look even marginally convinced. Nor did Altin. The Queen and the assassin remained expressionless.

“There are forces at work right now, Colonel,” pressed Thadius, “that you simply cannot appreciate. The orcs have allies in the cities, and those agents have agents of their own. The kingdom is under siege, and those of us in the
nobility
are the most likely targets. Who knows how long these people have been working to infiltrate my house. Even the Palace.”

Altin scoffed, a rattling sound in his throat. “There are no secrets at Northfork Manor worth stealing, and everyone standing here knows it.” He looked to Orli, pleading with her with his eyes to tell the truth.

She looked so happy leaning on Thadius like she was. A winsome sigh as her response. She seemed to be getting happier as minutes went by.

It nearly broke Altin’s heart. The only thing holding it together was the rising wave of rage. “Orli. Tell me it isn’t true.” He pointed at the filthy dress with a turn of his hand. “Look at you. Nothing he’s said is true.”

“What’s true is we have to help Blue Fire now,” she said, standing up straight again. Her thoughts seemed intent on a singular course that would not be redirected by any of them, though she seemed to struggle even for that. She shook herself and found it, and the urgency in her voice, in her eyes, the way she stood, was palpable. “All of us. We have to stop it. We can’t let the fleet destroy her. Not now. Don’t you see it was all a huge mistake?”

Altin tried to respond, but he choked on whatever he’d been about to say. He looked to the Queen, dismissing Orli’s addled remarks for now. “Your Majesty, surely you don’t buy this ridiculous lie he’s telling us. Spies? Infiltrating Northfork? Please. They’d find deeper secrets if they broke into a latrine. And none of it has to do with Orli’s absence at all.”

“I will ask the questions in my own good time, Sir Altin, and you’d do well to remember your place.”

That was an unexpected bit of rebuke, and Altin recoiled from it as if he’d just been slapped.

The War Queen turned to Envette. “Take us to the Palace.”

“Wait,” cried Altin, stepping forward. He reached out to grab Orli by the arm, but the elf shoved him back so hard he staggered and fell, landing on his backside and sliding half a span in the dirt. And then they were gone, all of the Queen’s retinue, the elf, Thadius and the clearly distracted Orli. Altin stared into the empty space where she’d been, where his beloved had stood only an instant before. How could she have gone? And willingly. She could have resisted the teleport if she’d wanted to, if she’d been coerced or was significantly afraid. But she hadn’t. And now she was gone again. Gone for so long and, just when he’d found her, gone again. And leaning on Thadius as if he really were her savior … as if she … as if she loved him.

It was impossible. She disliked Thadius. She knew him well enough. Granted she liked how he danced. She’d commented once that he was a very attractive man. He was taller than Altin, and better dressed and groomed. Noble. And incredible with a sword. And on horseback. He was a decent mage too, although hardly more than mediocre—only four schools and nothing approaching Altin’s high ranks. Altin was a Z for Mercy’s sake. Thadius’ highest ranked school was a G.

It couldn’t be. And what was all that about the Hostiles? About some
her
. What did she mean it had all been a mistake? If he could have gotten her alone, he could have asked. He could have paid better attention to her.

Gods how he hated Thadius. In his whole life he had never been so consumed with hatred as he now was. It filled him with a heat that reddened his ears and made them ring. His pulse pounded in them too, he could feel it, hear the marching sound of it like a thousand angry boots.

The whir of the servomotors and the thump of huge metal feet sounded as Corporal Chang moved off in his mechanized battle armor, the vibrations in the ground upon which he sat breaking Altin’s reverie.

Colonel Pewter stared, as Altin had, at something in the distance he did not actually see. He was chewing on the inside of his cheek. Altin knew he was considering what he’d just witnessed as well.

At length the colonel blinked a few times and shook his head. He moved to Altin and reached down to pull him up with his good arm. The two exchanged bewildered looks.

“I’m not sure how deep the shit in this cesspool is,” the colonel said, scrunching up his face, “but I’m guessing it’s somewhere up near here.” He lifted his hand, flat and straight as a knife, and pressed it just beneath his nose.

Altin nodded. As he studied his companion of the day’s battle, he thought about what the Queen had said regarding the admiral and Captain Asad. “How serious do you think the penalty will be for your leaving the ship like that?”

“I got my daughter back,” the colonel said. “I’m sure Asad will call it treason and dereliction of duty and any other charge he can come up with. He’ll call for execution since this is a time of war, but Jefferies will figure it out eventually. Asad doesn’t quite lead him around by the nose. At least not yet. I’ll be fine.”

“Do you want me to send you back?”

“Yep. But first let’s see about Krakowski. He might still need one of your wizard doctors—if there’s still time.”

“You’re right. And there is the wizard we left down below. The one you shot. We should probably see to his wounds and turn him over to Her Majesty as well. Along with the folks your men have captured from the house. I’m sure her inquisitors will have questions for them all.” At least he hoped they would. The Queen had acted strangely, he thought. But he wasn’t sure enough to say anything aloud just yet.

With a nod from the colonel, the two of them set to work, comforted in the knowledge that at least Orli was alive.

Chapter 68

I
n her private audience chamber, and in what was becoming a familiar scene, Queen Karroll erupted, this time at Thadius, her face red and her words molten as she loosed the fury boiling inside. “You idiot. You pathetic, selfish, spoiled little pervert. How dare you let petty jealousy and sad depravity jeopardize everything I have been working for all this time. The entire relationship between my kingdom and planet Earth is at stake, and you want to play hide the weasel games with Sir Altin’s sweetheart? What kind of tiny-minded, unthinking, selfish little sand tick are you?” She glared at him, panting, and it looked as if she might have let it all out, but then came another wave. “You’re a tapeworm, that’s what. A knavish one. An idiot. A warm bucket of harpy piss that the gods have seen fit to pour upon my kingdom.

“Can you even comprehend the position you have put me in? What am I to tell those people? ‘Oh, yes, one of the royal family has taken it upon himself to abduct one of your women for his personal sport. It seems he fancies a slap and tickle with the girl, and you know how young people are these days.’” A bit of foam had begun to form upon her lips with the rabidity of her rage, and fury drove bits of spit flying from her mouth like bats fleeing from a flaming cave. “Do you not have enough prizes in that petting zoo of yours already? Have I not indulged you in allowing it all these years? You flout the laws of this kingdom, you flout my authority with every protected species that you snatch, and yet, have I not looked the other way? Have I not indulged you, in hopes that you’d grow out of your infancy some day, that you might manifest some semblance of your proud heritage? Of course I have. The soft spot I hold for your father bought you patience and privilege you obviously do not deserve. And look what it’s got me. You. The sad last remnant of what used to be a line of great men. All that’s left of those valiant men are idiots like you and cravens like your uncle.”

“But, Your Majesty, she loves me. I think you are mistaking things here.”

“She doesn’t love you, you skulking cur. How stupid do you think I am? I don’t know how you’ve managed it—whether by some magic you’ve dug up or by that odd affection hostages have for their captors sometimes—but whatever it is, you and I both know it’s harpy spit. Don’t you dare stand there and speak one more word of that offal or I’ll cut you down myself, blood or not.”

Disdain was a wildfire scorching the landscape of her face, and he finally withered before the heat of it, if only in his proud way.

She spun and paced back and forth for a time. Thadius tried to muster as much dignity as he could. He straightened himself, and attempted to smooth out the wrinkles in his velvet doublet, flicking away bits of dirt that had gotten into the nap during his retreat.

“I’m going to have to banish you,” she said at last. “I can think of nothing else to do. I cannot kill you, out of respect for the two drops of king’s blood that have lost themselves in that brackish water running through your veins. You would be killed in prison. So it must be banishment.”

“But, Your Majesty. Surely this will all work out. The girl really does love me now. There is no need to confess anything … untoward.”

“Those people up there aren’t stupid, you fool. And I have no intention of allowing you back into my court. You are a rat, a serpent, vermin of the lowest sort, and frankly, if there weren’t royal blood in you, old and ruined as it is, I would have you taken out behind the palace and, with no more ceremony than that, had you hung from a tree. I still may.”

“Your Majesty—”

“Shut up. You no longer have permission to speak in my presence.” She turned and spoke as if to the wall. “If he says another word, kill him. That is an order.” She did not need to see the elf nod to know he would comply.

She looked back at Thadius who knew it was true as well. “I hereby banish you from my kingdom for the period of one thousand years. If you can manage that long, you may return. You have three days to be off of Kurr. And take your illusionist friend with you when you go.”