Sworn To Secrecy: Courtlight #4 (29 page)

They walked down gilded hallway after gilded hallway. Always in unison. Watchful eyes ready. Taking notes of the courtiers who took note of them. The courtiers who turned away or made no attempt at recognition would not support them. The courtiers who were careful to nod in their direction or catch the eye of the approaching prince were allies. And still more watched and waited, calculating, assessing, and preparing for what was to come.

She sighed silently when they reached the enormous golden doors that marked the emperor’s audience chambers. She had been here once before with Sebastian. Then they had just met and emerged together from the aether realm as well as the renewed land wight’s presence. Then as now they waited on the emperor’s verdict.

They stood in front of the doors, waiting for them to open, while the noble court tittered behind them as they gossiped about whatever it was that was the latest rage among their group. A liveried footman wearing the Algardis crest soon approached them. He bowed deeply from the waist to the prince heir. As he rose, he stated, “His Imperial Majesty Emperor Bastien Athanos Algardis requests a private audience with Ciardis Weathervane, companion trainee and scion of the Weathervane family.”

Disturbed, Ciardis looked with wide eyes at Sebastian, who glanced back at her, perturbed as well. The emperor’s request had been specific and final. If he hadn’t ordered anyone else to attend him, then no one else would enter the chamber.

Sebastian grimaced. She knew he couldn’t gainsay his father in front of the entire court. Instead he let his mental barriers down.
Be careful, Ciardis. My father isn’t to be trifled with. Tell him what you found out but make sure you maintain the upper hand. This may be our only time to gain leverage.

I know,
she replied back.
I will do my best
.
Sebastian
—

Her voice halted.

Yes?
he said. He couldn’t hide the anxiety and wariness in his mental voice.

Nothing
, she said.
It doesn’t matter
.

She straightened her shoulders and he stepped back, his shields snapping closed. A cold mask descended over his face so fast that she almost flinched. She took a step forward to the opening audience chamber doors.

As she entered through their golden vista, she whispered in her thoughts,
Just like old times
.

She thought, but she couldn’t be sure, that she heard Sebastian whisper back,
I can only hope not.

As she walked through those doors and entered into the chamber beyond, she noticed with shock that the vast audience chamber was empty except for one lone man in the distance. Behind her the doors to the outside world closed. She was alone with the most powerful man on this side of the Sahalia Sea. As she walked forward, she took in the majesty and grace of the room surrounding her. Twelve broad marble columns wound up to the top of the ceiling on either side of her. The floor was a marble of purest white and quadrilateral pieces of jet were placed at the junction of each cornerstone. Beyond the columns, floor-length windows stretched in the distance to either side. With the sunlight streaming through the windows and around the broad columns, the audience chamber was breathtaking.

The only sound was her steps as she crossed the marble floor the breadth of the coliseum’s track. As she walked forward, she was determined to speak with respect. She couldn’t afford to anger the emperor again so close to trial. When she reached the marble steps that led up from the base of the emperor’s ceremonial throne, she halted. She looked up at the empty throne. He did not sit in it but instead stood watching the distant city out the windows near the edge of the dais with an unreadable expression on his face. After a few minutes had passed, the venerable emperor turned his attention to the Weathervane who had turned his city upside down.

He paced to the edge of the throne room dais and began walking down the gold and marble steps to where she stood. She finally realized that she should be kneeling not standing and quickly dropped to the floor in a move that she hoped never reached her mother’s ears. She would never let Ciardis live after finding out. As she knelt on the floor with her head down, she could feel her head wrap slowly unraveling in a mild panic. But she knew enough not to touch it. If not executing a proper curtsy were a formal sign of misconduct in her mother’s eyes, fiddling with her hair under the emperor’s eyes would be a crime.

Despite her abject humiliation, the turban continued to unwrap itself and was rapidly falling into her eyes. With her hands in her lap and her head down, she couldn’t see a thing. Which was why she fairly jumped out of her skin when the emperor, who had the very unfair ability to walk like a cat when he so chose, spoke abruptly in her ear.

“Your turban seems to be falling apart, Mistress Weathervane,” the emperor said dryly.

She blushed to the roots of her hair and shyly looked up, taking his speech as permission to raise her head.

“Yes, Your Imperial Majesty,” she said, “As you can see, I’m not very good at it.”

“You may stand.”

She quickly rose from her knees. The turban fell all the way off and she caught it in her hands. As she did her dirty hair fell in lumps around her face. To her mortification a large clump of dried mud fell out of those lumps onto the polished marble floor near her feet.

She couldn’t think of a word to say.

To her amazement the emperor laughed. It was dry but it was not mocking, which was the only thing that kept her from sinking into the floor.

“I assume this also is the fault of the duke of Carne,” he said, “My guard told me about the attack last night. And that you and your people had taken refuge in the underground city with my son.”

Face burning but voice firm, she looked into his eyes. “Yes, my lord.”

“You have courage, Weathervane,” he said quietly. “I’ll give you that.”

She felt some pride restored at that comment.

“What have you found?”

She straightened her shoulders and ploughed into what she knew, holding the tale of the ship in the Weaver’s District for last.

The emperor looked colder and colder as she gave him the report on her adventures as well as what she had found out about the princess heir’s plans to attack the city of Kifar and detailed the convoluted partnership which had led to his brother’s murder of his first wife.

“Do you know what manner of beast it is that will attack Kifar?”

“No, Your Imperial Majesty.”

“What about where it resides?”

“Not as of yet, Your Imperial Majesty.”

“Do you have proof that it was my brother who killed Teresa?”

“My mother’s testimony should be sufficient.”

He didn’t bother commenting on that.

Finally, with an odd catch in his voice he said, “Do you know why Maradian killed Teresa or what happened to him later?”

“No, sire. He disappeared and my mother never heard of him again.”

He nodded sharply. “Of course he did.”

She didn’t like his tone. “I’m telling the truth.”

He gave her a surprised glance. “And I believe you, young Weathervane. But I can’t say it’s enough to have your mother freed of the crime in her peers’ eyes.”

“But surely, Your Imperial Majesty, your judgment is law. If you say it is so, so will it be.”

“Of course, of course,” he said, pacing and waving an impatient hand. “I just wonder if more proof could be gathered. Do you know if your mother would be able to recognize Maradian if she saw him again?”

Ciardis paused in confusion. Maradian was dead, but she would humor the emperor. “No, my lord.”

“Why not?” he asked sharply.

“Because only those of imperial blood and their chosen consorts can see through the mask of a projection done by another of imperial blood.”

“Yes, that is true,” he said, stopping and peering closely down at her. “Then what about evidence? Something to show the people that my dead brother was a part of this appalling scheme?”

Her eyes lit up. The ship would be just the thing. It had been hidden by the princess heir but bore the nickname of the dead prince. Surely it would be convincing enough. She didn’t yet know how the ship tied into the princess heir’s plans, but there was only a matter of time before they found out.

Just as she went to tell the looming emperor, Sebastian’s voice cut into her thoughts.
Ciardis, they’re moving us. Are you and my father agreed upon your mother’s freedom?

Not yet,
she said silently.
But he’s acting rather strangely.

For a tense moment she didn’t hear anything from Sebastian. She thought he had said what he wished and left. But then a mental surge of his abilities connected to hers and she felt his mind and emotions once more, as clearly as she felt her own. Their minds were in full mind-sync for the first time in a day. He could now see out of her eyes, hear through her ears, and read her thoughts fully. She grimaced in irritation. Having a second mind in her head wasn’t the most pleasant of experiences; having one that despised you at the moment was practically torture.

“Lady Weathervane?” asked the emperor sharply.

She snapped back to the present.

“I asked you a question,” he said. “Do you have any further evidence of this plot between Maradian and Marissa?”

“Apologies, sire,” she said. “I—”

Ciardis—don’t!
shouted Sebastian in a voice so loud in her head that she winced. The command was so forceful that instead of saying, “I do,” as she meant to, the words came out as, “I don’t.”

The emperor peered at her. “You...don’t?”

Tell him no!
Sebastian said frantically.

What in the world, Sebastian
?

Just do it! He cannot know that mechanical contraption was a map to a hidden location, and he particularly cannot know we have found something.

No explanation was forthcoming. But the fervent worry that laced Sebastian’s tone was something she had never before seen in him. If he feared the revelation, then so would she.

“No,” she said, trembling from the strain of holding on to their mental connection while Sebastian drifted farther and farther away. “I mean...I received the second object from the princess heir’s possessions but it led nowhere.” She was fumbling to come up with an excuse.

Desperately she called out to Sebastian,
Was that enough? Tell me what’s going on, damn it, and what to say to your father now. You know I’ve never been good at lying.

Empty silence met her thoughts. They were still connected, but it was a strain for him to speak to her. He was either distracted by something or unable to send her his thoughts. Snapping back to awareness of the man who stood in front of her, she watched warily as she waited for the emperor to respond.

“Did it now?” the emperor murmured while watching her as carefully as a predator would its prey.

“Yes, sire,” she said while gaining some confidence back. “Perhaps she prized it for its uniqueness. A mechanical contraption such as that would be difficult to come by. But it seemed to have no functional use other than to make noise and drink oil.”

“Very pretty, though,” she added belatedly as she realized he might take kindly to her dismissal of his sister’s prized possession.

He straightened up from his looming position over her and turned to leave. “Very well. The trial will proceed.”

“But sire!” she called out, frantic. Surely he believed her. Surely it was enough and he could dismiss the egregious allegations against her mother. Otherwise he could proceed to his courtroom and would pronounce Lillian’s death sentence then and there before a jury of her peers.

Her stomach dropped and her mind whirled. She didn’t want to disappoint Sebastian, but she would say anything to stop the emperor from pronouncing her mother’s death. Even telling him about the ship that Sebastian didn’t want revealed.

“Yes?” He turned back with the features of his face hidden by the blinding glare of the sun.

You can’t, Ciardis!
snapped Sebastian.

Why not?
she yelled in frustration.

Because he’s not my father
, was his horrified answer.

What?
she said, shocked.

Reluctantly, Sebastian took over her vision and pushed his own mage sight onto hers. As she stared straight ahead at the sun-crowned emperor, the magic of his cloaked veil fell away, and before her stood a man that Prince Heir Sebastian recognized as his blood. But not as his father.

That isn’t my father, that’s Maradian Athanos Algardis. My supposedly dead uncle.

You have got to be joking
, she said.

I wish I was. But Ciardis, he must not know that you know!

She gulped and said quickly, “I implore you, Your Imperial Majesty, give me more time. I will find what you seek. I will know why your brother and sister killed your wife. As well as what the princess heir planned in Kifar.”

He frowned and said, “We will see, Mistress Weathervane.”

Then he left, and she collapsed on her knees in relief in the middle of the audience chamber floor. It took her a few minutes to gather her courage. If was sometime more before she was able to stand and walk out of the audience chamber. Still numb to the world around her she gripped the golden handle and jerked the door to the main hall open. As she exited, a servant beckoned to her. After she approached, he led her down a side hall to where the trial would soon take place. She quickly snapped out of her stupor when she stepped into a room that was empty except for a steaming basin of hot water, and the door closed behind her. What was this? She didn’t let panic set in, and in the very next second a bevy of maids entered to the room and proceeded to make short work of her disheveled hair.

“Compliments of the emperor,” the supervising lady-in-waiting said with a disapproving eye.

Ciardis didn’t bother responding to her disapproving look and sniff of disdain. She was still in shock.

Ciardis?
demanded Sebastian in her head.