Skull Gate (3 page)

Where was Aki?

She looked up at the moon for an answer.

The pale crescent was still a smile in the night sky.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two

 

There was no sleeping that night. She spent the time interviewing guards and combing the palace grounds for any clue to Aki's disappearance. Little hope, she told herself bitterly. Not by physical means had the little queen been stolen from under their noses.

As dawn began to unfold in the east, she made her way back to the tower and the chamber she shared with Aki. A pair of sentries stood watch at the door, set there by Tras Sur'tian. They saluted sharply as she passed between them.

A vague odor of brimstone still lingered in the room.

Beneath her bed she kept a chest containing her few possessions. She retrieved it and, kneeling began to rummage through. There were traveling clothes of gray leather; she spread them on the bed. There was a silver circlet inset with a polished, gleaming moonstone; she placed it on her head to hold back her hair.

“Very pretty."

She glanced over her shoulder. For a heavy man, Tras Sur'tian could move quietly. “A gift from an old friend,” she said, and turned back to her rummaging.

“It becomes you,” he answered. “And what's that?"

She gazed at the small silken-wrapped bundle in her hand and the three strips of leather that bound it. For a long time she hesitated, just staring at it. Then she drew a slow breath, closed the lid of the chest, and pushed it back under the bed. There was nothing else she needed.

“What is it?” Tras Sur'tian repeated. “It must be precious; you've wrapped it so carefully."

She almost smiled at that. Any Esgarian would have recognized the binding. White silk and leather were meant to contain a charm's magic power. If an object were wrapped so, its energies would not seep away, nor could it be contaminated by outside influences.

But this bundle contained no mere charm, and the binding was little more than hopeful caution on her part. She untied the leather strips one by one and laid them aside. Then she unrolled the silk.

Tras Sur'tian whistled softly and leaned closer.

The dagger gleamed softly in the combined lamplight and light of dawn that spilled through the window. The sheath was pure polished silver and the belt a chain of shining silver discs. Three crimson bloodstones sparkled on the dagger's silver hilt.

“A finer-looking piece I've never seen!” Tras Sur'tian reached out to touch it.

“No!” She caught his hand. “No one touches Demonfang but me. Pray you never learn why.” She pushed his hand away, rose, and set the dagger beside her riding clothes.

“Demonfang?"

She began to undress, casting off her soldier's garb. She thought nothing of Tras Sur'tian's presence. Men had seen her naked before. “A silly habit we Esgarians have of naming our weapons."

“What do you call your sword?"

She shrugged. “Sword.” In truth, Demonfang had been named long before she'd come to possess it.

She pulled on the riding outfit and tucked the trousers legs into her boots, buckled the dagger on her left hip, sword on her right.

“You're going to look for her, aren't you?"

“She was my charge,” Frost answered coldly. “I let her be taken."

“What could you have done against sorcery?” he responded. “You're a warrior, not a witch."

She stiffened, then drew a careful breath and let it pass. “She was my charge,” she repeated.

Two more guards appeared in the doorway. They called her name. “His Highness summons you,” said one. “We are sent as escort."

Frost shot a look at Tras Sur'tian.

“It's what I came to tell you,” he said. “Thogrin Sin'tell arrived less than an hour ago. He'll rule in Aki's place now. The coronation is three days away."

She was able to hide her anger from the guards at the door, but Tras Sur'tian knew her too well. “He has the right,” he continued, “as Aki's first cousin and Baron of Endymia. Korkyra cannot be without a monarch."

“I'll be along shortly,” she said to her escort, and she made to shut the door.

The guards did not budge. “We are to escort you."

“I'll escort her myself,” said Tras Sur'tian. “You are dismissed.” The two bowed, turned smartly, and disappeared. Frost closed the door.

“Endymia is on the other side of the kingdom,” she hissed when they were alone. “How in the nine hells did Thogrin Sin'tell learn Aki was missing?"

Tras Sur'tian tried to calm her. “He didn't. He was coming to pay a visit, that's all."

“Traveling at night?” she pushed. “In all the two years I've served Aki, Thogrin Sin'tell has never shown his face at court. Why now, of all times?"

“Are you saying he's involved?"

She nearly laughed at his disbelieving countenance. “Right up to his coronet. You can't be so stupid. You have to see it."

He shook his head. “He's of royal blood."

She spat. “History is written with such blood, families butchering each other for a crown. The armies are loyal to Aki. Arrest this rat and wring some answers from him!"

Tras Sur'tian paced the room. “They won't do it. No army of Korkyra has ever rebelled against a monarch. They won't do it,” he repeated. “I won't do it."

“He's not your monarch,” she insisted.

His face purpled and one fist pounded the wall. “We have no proof that Aki lives,” he roared, “or that Thogrin's involved in her disappearance!"

“A taste of the rack would gain you such proof, I'll warrant."

He straightened, striving for a measure of control again. For all her urging, Tras Sur'tian was a Korkyran commander, a soldier trained to loyal service. “It is not possible,” he said finally.

She gave up. There was more to worry about. “Do you know why he wants to see me?"

Tras Sur'tian turned to face her; maybe her words had left a mark after all, for she read a sudden concern in his large brown eyes.

“I can only guess,” he answered. “With Aki gone you have no status now. You're a common mercenary again, and your fate is in Thogrin's hands."

She frowned. “That's not terribly reassuring."

“Be wary of him, woman.” Tras Sur'tian was suddenly animate again. He paced the floor and rubbed his hands as he spoke. “Thogrin does not look like much of a man. In fact, I doubt he has ever held a sword. But he is wily and has about him the look of a man who has waited a long time to be king. Say nothing about this quest of yours to find his cousin. He'll not look favorably on it, or on any action that would foster the belief that Aki still lives."

“Would he try to keep me from leaving?"

Tras Sur'tian nodded. “If he knows you plan to search for Aki."

She thought for a moment, realizing that time was slipping away and that Thogrin Sin'tell was waiting for her. “Then, Tras, if you hold our friendship of any worth, and if you ever loved Aki, you must do something for me.” She removed her sword and wrapped it in the gray cloak that still lay on the bed. She pressed it into his arms. “My horse is in the royal stables. Bring him to the eastern gate. Don't try to saddle him, just bring the gear. Speak my name, and he'll follow you. Don't treat him roughly. And best you disguise yourself in some way so no one knows you gave me any aid."

Tras Sur'tian looked disturbed, his brow furrowed. “You'd ask me to disobey my king?"

“Has he already given orders that I'm not to leave?"

The old commander shook his head.

“Then you're not disobedient. And if you leave now, you'll never hear if such an order is given."

He seemed unconvinced. She touched his arm and spoke softly. “Tras, please? I'll need your help."

At last he shrugged his huge shoulders. “Damn if I ever thought I'd see the day a woman made me her puppet,” he said, “but you've done so, and handily."

“Then I've one more thing to do.” She unfastened Demonfang's belt, then her tunic, which she raised above her breasts. She rebuckled the dagger next to her skin. When she lowered her garment no trace of it showed.

She caught the look in Tras Sur'tian's eye. “I'm no assassin,” she assured him. “But I can't leave this blade lying around or trust it even into your care. Neither can I wear it openly in Thogrin's presence, since he's of royal blood and I'm not sworn to him. This is the best way.” She pulled a piece of velvet cord from the trimming on Aki's bed and tied it around her waist for a belt. “See,” she said, patting the dagger beneath her tunic, “how difficult it would be to reach?"

Tras Sur'tian hugged her sword in its cloak wrapping. “I'll be at the gate,” he said, “and look that you deal cautiously with Thogrin Sin'tell."

“If I'm not there in an hour, look for me in prison."

His eyes darkened at that, but he said no more. They opened the door and departed, leaving the two original sentries to guard an empty room.

Two more sentries stood rigidly outside the reception hall. They parted as she approached, but she hesitated between them. She knew the role she had to play, and a few moments to compose herself would ease her task. Slowly, the anger ebbed from her, and the tension in her muscles faded. She checked her appearance, making sure Demonfang could not be detected under her clothes. Finally, she felt ready to confront Thogrin Sin'tell.

The reception hall doors were massive carven oak. At her push they swung back on well-oiled hinges.

She had stood in this hall on countless occasions. It never failed to impress her. The ceiling was supported, not by columns, but on the heads of tall, slender sculptures of milk-white marble, men and women from the various Korkyran myths and legends. The ceiling and floor were painted with all manners of birds and animals and flowers. The walls were draped with tapestries. A light incense floated in the air.

At the far end of the hall twenty ivory steps led upward to the emerald throne. Above it, the ceiling rose in a deep bell. The merest whisper could be heard clearly throughout the entire chamber.

Sprawled on the cushioned seat, Thogrin Sin'tell spoke to her. “You've kept me waiting, woman."

She didn't miss the mocking note or the thinly veiled threat. Her footsteps echoed loudly on the painted tiles, and she bent one knee on the bottom stair. She averted her eyes.

“Pardons, Highness,” she answered softly. “I was not attired when your summons came."

He shrugged and held out a cup. A serving girl at his right hand produced a jug and poured for him. At his left sat a court clerk whose name Frost could not recall. He held up a document. Thogrin glanced at it and shook his head.

“No matter. As you can see, I have plenty of business to occupy my time. My little cousin was a sweet child and popular with the people, but it seems she had no head for state affairs."

Frost bit her lip and forced her hands to unclench. The liar! Aki was a conscientious leader. What she lacked in years and experience she made up for with the best tutors and advisors. Still, it would not be wise to say so.

Thogrin lifted his cup and drained it. He gestured for more. “You know, I can drink and drink and never get drunk.” He smiled and regarded her for a long time. “You're some kind of warrior, I understand.” His smile broadened and he leaned forward, resting an elbow on a knee. “You don't look too fierce."

It was not a question and required no response. She said nothing. Her knees were beginning to ache.

Thogrin pressed her. “They say you can best any man with a sword. Is it true?"

She swallowed, choosing her words carefully. “Highness, men are sometimes given to exaggeration."

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying my soldiers—my
Korkyran
soldiers—are liars?"

She let her shoulders slump and pouted. “No, Highness."

“Ah, well”—Thogrin shrugged again—“whatever your skill, you were my cousin's guardian.” He paused, examined a paper the clerk held up for him, and nodded. The clerk dropped a spot of candle wax on the paper. Thogrin pressed his ring to it. He looked back at her. “Why were you not with her last night?"

“There was another intruder,” she answered. “I tried to pursue him."

Thogrin drank from his cup. “I've heard that story,” he said, “and yet, there's no proof to substantiate it."

She met his eyes for the first time, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. “The slashed bedcovers,” she countered, “my arm..."

He held up a hand. “Not proof,” he said. “Your sword could have done those things."

She rose slowly to her feet, hating the creature that dared look down on her. Let him read the act as defiance if he would. She was no one's scapegoat. “Are you accusing me?"

He glared. “Not yet. The circumstances are odd enough that I doubt you were actually involved in the murder of my cousin—"

“Murder?” she interrupted.

His voice dropped a note. “Don't take that tone with me, woman.” He hesitated, challenging her with his silence, then resumed. “There's no doubt of Aki's death, whether by your intruder or some clever sorcery, as some say. You may not have been involved, but you were certainly not at your appointed post, that is, at Aki's side. That's the same as desertion."

Her defiance melted, and she looked away. No denying it, he was right. Her place was with Aki. Had she remembered that, the child might not be gone. The blame was hers.

She chewed her lip.

Thogrin continued. “For now, though, I'm inclined to mercy.” A subtle smile spread over his face and he stretched, gripping the jewel-encrusted arms of Korkyra's throne. “I have to consider that it may have been your carelessness that has brought me to this great seat.” He beckoned for the serving girl to refill his cup.

Frost regarded him, her eyes narrow slits, as he sipped the wine. She had to get away. This man did not trust her; his attitude, every word he spoke betrayed that fact. If he did not arrest her now, he had a reason. Probably to concoct more evidence against her, she considered. She had no doubt that Thogrin Sin'tell would lay blame at someone's feet. It would not do to leave Aki's disappearance unexplained. The people would always wonder.