Shards of Time (16 page)

“What if it doesn’t hold?” asked Alec.

Thero stifled a groan of pain as he rose to his feet. “It would be considerably worse than what you saw just now.”

“Something like that could have killed the governor and his companion, then taken over Sedge,” said Micum.

“That seems likely.” Sedge still lay sprawled on the floor among the wreckage. “I hope he’ll be able to tell us more.”

Micum felt Sedge’s pulse and placed a hand over the man’s heart. “I think he’s just asleep.”

“We may have already accomplished what the queen sent us for,” said Alec.

“I wouldn’t start repacking your trunk just yet.” Thero ran his unburned hand over his face. “The thing spoke old Konic, Seregil.”

“So I heard. That raises some interesting questions. Toneus’s renovations of the palace might have disturbed something important.”

“Yes.”

“Those wounds need attention, Thero,” said Alec. “Especially your fingers.”

“A cold bath and some salve should suffice. It’s Sedge we need to concern ourselves with now.”

He shook the guard gently by the shoulder, and the captain’s eyes fluttered open. He looked up, then grabbed Thero’s forearm in a painful grip. “Who are you?” he demanded in his own voice.

“You don’t remember me?”

“Never seen you before in my life.” He sat up and pushed Thero aside, then stared at the painted designs on his hands and naked body. “What’s going on here? Who in Sakor’s name are you people? And where in Bilairy’s name are my clothes?”

Seregil fetched the blanket and gave it to him. “My tattered friend here is the wizard who just cured your possession. You’ve been a gibbering madman for weeks.”

Sedge shook his head slowly. “Last thing I remember is hearing screams from the governor’s—” He looked around. “Where am I? What happened to Governor Toneus?”

“You remember nothing?” asked Seregil. “Think, man!”

“Give him time,” cautioned Thero. “Captain Sedge, we brought you here to Mirror Moon to heal you. You were possessed by some sort of spirit.”

“Is it safe to take him back to the house now?” asked Alec.

Thero nodded and together they got the dazed man into the cart. Leaving the cottage as it was, Thero gathered his tools and they headed back.

Dorin unlocked the door at Seregil’s knock and took in the sight of them with barely concealed alarm. Thero’s clothing
was shredded, and he and Sedge still bore the painted marks on their faces and hands.

“You’re to say nothing of this to anyone,” Seregil ordered.

“Of course not, my lord. Where do you wish to put your—this man?”

“In the chamber next to mine, but neither you nor any of the household will go in there under any circumstances.”

A sudden wave of dizziness swept over Thero, and he grabbed the back of a nearby chair to steady himself. “I need something to eat. The magic took more out of me than I expected.”

“Come with me,” said Alec, taking his arm. “I’ll tend to your hand. And I’ll bring food up for everyone.”

“Don’t question him without me,” Thero warned.

“Wouldn’t think of it,” Seregil assured him.

Thero handed him the container with the chalk. “Guard this with your life.”

Leaving Thero to Alec’s care, Seregil and Micum led the confused, distrustful Sedge upstairs. He’d clearly never been in such a lavish home and was uneasy being there.

Seregil opened the door to a smaller guest chamber between Micum’s and the one he shared with Alec. It was less gaudily appointed, just a pleasant room with a window looking out over the countryside.

“I’d like a wash, if it’s all the same to you gentlemen,” Sedge told them, clutching his blanket around him.

Micum fetched water and a clean nightshirt from his room, then went off to take a clean robe to Thero. Seregil looked out the window while Sedge took a noisy basin bath.

“There,” he said presently, and Seregil turned to find him seated on the edge of the bed in the nightshirt, scrubbing his wet hair and beard with a flannel. Tossing it on the floor, he combed his hair back with his fingers and regarded him with eyes that were clear and sane. “Now, some answers.”

“You’ve been locked up in the madhouse, my friend.” Seregil pulled up a chair beside the bed. “Whatever you saw that night at the palace drove you out of your wits.”

“That young fellow with the black beard said something about possession.”

“Yes. Thero is a wizard, and he cast whatever it was out. He’ll want to speak more about that with you.”

Micum returned with Alec and a tray laden with mince pie, bread, and sheep’s-milk cheese. Alec had a large earthenware jug and some small wooden flagons. “Honey mead. I thought we could all use some,” he said, handing the flagons around and filling them. “Thero will be up when he’s done soaking. He’s a mess.”

“What happened to him?” asked Sedge.

“I don’t see any harm telling him, do you?” asked Micum.

“No,” said Seregil. “Go ahead and eat, Captain.”

Thero lay back in the tub, bandaged hand propped carefully on the side of it to keep the wrappings dry. Sabriel had discovered Alec rummaging through her pantry for butter and shooed him away. Seating Thero at the worktable, she’d brought out her box of simples and applied an aromatic salve to the blisters on his fingers that took most of the pain away, then had given him a sweet bun to eat while the bath was prepared.

Someone had put oat chaff in the bathwater and it was wonderfully soothing; the marks across his skin were still an angry red but hurt a little less. He shuddered to think how much worse things might have gone without his fortunate precautions. Before he could doze off, he rose from the bath and gratefully put on the silk dressing gown Seregil had sent down for him. He never wore such things, but had to admit the smooth fabric was preferable to wool or linen right now.

When he reached Sedge’s room he found the others eating together. “I hope you saved some for me.”

Seregil handed him a thick slice of pie. “You need it more than any of us.”

“Thanks, I’m famished.” The mince was rich with venison and currants, making his mouth water so hard it hurt.

“That was a close call tonight, wasn’t it?” Alec asked, handing him a cup.

“It was.” He took a sip—dry mead, flavored with some herb and potent, just what his shattered nerves needed.

When they were done, Thero leaned back in his chair and said, “Now, Sedge, it’s important that you tell us everything about the day the governor and his lady were killed.”

“I told you before, I don’t remember,” Sedge replied through a mouthful of bread. There were crumbs caught in his beard and down the front of his nightshirt.

“The first time we visited you in the madhouse, you said something about your Lieutenant Phania being pulled somewhere,” Seregil told him gently. “And you were afraid of our wizard friend here, afraid he was going to practice sorcery on you.”

Sedge gave him a bleak look. “I didn’t dream that? Phania’s dead, too?”

“We don’t know. No one’s seen her since that night. What did you mean, ‘pulled’?”

Tossing his half-eaten chunk of bread onto the tray, Sedge rested his head in his hands. “I told you, I don’t—”

“You do, on some level,” Thero told him. “If you’d allow me, I’d like to touch your thoughts. It’s quite painless and won’t do you any harm.”

Sedge recoiled. “Sorcery!”

“It’s nothing of the kind. I’m an Orëska wizard. You’re a Skalan, aren’t you? You know better than that.”

“Perhaps when the captain has rested, his mind will be clearer on the matter,” Seregil offered, giving Thero a warning glance.

“He has been through a lot,” added Alec.

“You could use some rest, yourself, Thero,” said Micum. “The rest of you go get some sleep. I’ll sit with our friend here.”

“Am I a prisoner?” asked Sedge.

“Does this look like a prison?” Seregil asked with a smile. “No, but we’re acting on Governor Klia’s behalf, and as she’s in command of the Guard now, you’ll do well to cooperate with us. You can speak to her yourself tomorrow. She’s coming here, then we’re all going back to Menosi.”

There was no mistaking the terror on the man’s face.

Micum patted his shoulder. “Get into bed and get some sleep, my friend. Things will look better in the morning.”

Anxious as he was for information, Thero had to admit the others were right. Sedge was frightened, disoriented, and exhausted. There was no sense pressuring him.

“Very well, then. Rest, Captain, and I wish you pleasant dreams. Your affliction has been lifted.”

Seregil and Alec followed him out into the corridor and closed the door.

“It won’t help to push him too hard,” said Seregil.

“I know that!” Thero snapped.

“How are
you
doing? You don’t look well.”

“I’m fine, considering how the day turned out. That man may be the key to this entire business.”

“Tomorrow. Go get some sleep. You can use the room next to Micum’s.”

The very suggestion seemed to weight Thero’s eyelids. Giving the others a parting nod, he went to his room, crawled into bed, and fell into exhausted slumber.

I
T
was still dark when the sound of shouting brought Thero bolt upright in bed.

Hurrying to the door, he threw it open and started for Sedge’s room, but instead discovered Micum at Seregil and Alec’s door, knocking and jiggling the handle. The raised voice was Seregil’s, and he sounded desperate.

From inside they heard Seregil shout, “No, come back, please!” followed by a thud, then silence.

“Are you two all right?” Micum called, knocking harder.

After a moment they heard the lock turn and Alec opened the door with a blanket pulled around him, Thero’s golden amulet glinting among its folds. “It’s all right,” he whispered. “Seregil just had a bad dream.”

“Another one?” Micum said, concerned.

“It’s nothing!” Seregil growled.

Glancing past Alec, Thero saw Seregil standing naked at the window, arms crossed so tightly across his chest that his shoulder blades stood out under the skin.

“It was just a dream,” he said. Turning, he snatched a dressing gown from the end of the bed, struggled into it, and stalked over to join them. He was wearing his amulet, too, the wizard noted with relief. “Just a dream. Go back to bed.” He was trying to sound annoyed, but Thero could see that he was pale and sweating.

Thero exchanged a worried look with Alec; it was clear the younger man was equally unsettled. “There are dreams,
and then there are dreams,” he said. “And you of all people should know that, Seregil. May I come in?”

“We have an early day ahead of us. It was nothing. Good night.” He turned and went back to bed, lying down facing away from them with the coverlet pulled up to his ears. It reminded Thero eerily of Sedge in that cell, after he’d told them they were going to die.

“We’ll talk later,” Alec whispered.

“No, you won’t!” Seregil called from the bed.

Alec shrugged and closed the door.

“He has plenty of reasons to have nightmares,” Micum said at last, not sounding fully convinced.

“I’m sure if there is anything we should know, he’ll tell us.”

Alec sat down on his side of the bed, still wrapped in the blanket. Seregil had stolen the rest of the bedding. “You must remember something, Seregil. The way you were yelling, you sounded terrified.”

Seregil rolled to face him and sat up, keeping his distance. “I told you, Alec, I don’t
know
what the dreams are about. Maybe Illior is toying with me, or protecting me. I just know they scare me and it takes a lot to do that. Please, talí, try to understand.”

“When you had the dreams about the Helm, and Nysander, you knew what they were.”

“Yes, but I didn’t know what they meant until it was too late, did I?” He rested his head in his hands and massaged his eyelids with the heels of his palms. “I can’t control my dreams. And I don’t know if these are the same kind of prophetic visions. I haven’t had them for a long time. If I have another one and you’re aware of it, wake me up any way you have to, before I have a chance to forget. Will you do that for me, Alec?”

“Of course I will. Can I have some of the covers now?”

Seregil gave him a wan smile. “Thank you.”

The rest of the short night passed uneventfully. Seregil fell almost at once into a deep sleep but Alec found he couldn’t
keep his eyes closed. Lighting a candle, he sat in an armchair by the bed for a while, trying to doze and keep an eye on Seregil at the same time. When sleep still eluded him and Seregil seemed at ease, he took the candle and made a circuit of the room, looking for something to do. It was too dark to work on the arrows he’d been fletching, and he had nothing to read. With a last look at his lover, Alec headed downstairs, determined to grab up whatever was left in the pillaged library and carry it back as quickly as possible. Light showed under the door where Sedge lay under Micum’s watchful eye. Thero’s room was dark.

As Alec passed the door of the haunted chamber they’d shared the night before, curiosity got the best of him. Steeling himself for whatever lurked beyond the door, he went in and stood for a moment in the middle of the room. The side window was securely fastened, however, and the cool air smelled of nothing more sinister than the ash in the fireplace. His flickering candle set shadows jumping in the corners, but their sad visitor was nowhere to be seen.