The Complete Twilight Reign Ebook Collection (187 page)

Two of the soldiers were sent with him. They led Amber up a long, slightly curved avenue that took them straight towards a big gate, leading to the Eight Towers district, one of his guides informed him taciturnly when he asked. He could see a unit of the red-clad soldiers, and disordered groups of what looked to be irregular troops dressed in brown and white.

Strange, the city is full of troops, Amber thought, noting knots of soldiers at every major junction on the avenue. The duchess looks to be more worried about her own citizens than the approaching army.

Amber realised it wasn’t just the soldiers watching him; people were studying him from every alleyway and open door. He felt the suspicion and fear in their eyes, but what unnerved him most was the bubble of silence that accompanied him through the city, almost as though some sort of spell had been cast on him.

Just before he reached the gate a voice called out from one group of onlookers and the people all turned, then parted as a figure lurched forward. Amber slowed and stared at the figure dressed in rags heading towards him. One of the soldiers started towards it and the figure stopped, calling out again.

Amber blinked in surprise. He’d been expecting to hear the local dialect, but it was Menin the figure was speaking-moreover, it was his own name being called.

‘Major Amber,’ the figure repeated, and slipped the hood off to reveal hair the colour of dirty straw and the hopeful grin of a hungry hound.

‘Nai?’ Amber said, incredulously. The soldier walking towards the ragged man stopped and looked back, uncertain, but Amber ignored him, still staring in shock at Nai, once manservant to Isherin Purn, a deceased necromancer formerly in the employ of the Menin Army.

The last time Amber had seen Nai, he had been off on some fool’s errand in the unlikely company of King Emin and Zhia Vukotic, among others. Amber himself had barely escaped the massacre of refugees in the days following the fall of Scree, and he had assumed anyone unfortunate enough to not be immortal or have their own army could not possibly have survived.

‘Nai? he repeated, before realising he was looking foolish. He gestured the man over.

‘Good to see you too, Major,’ Nai said, trotting forward. As when they’d first met, in Scree, Nai was barefoot, as though proudly displaying his misshapen foot. Under his filthy rags he wore a thicker, cleaner leather coat. A subterfuge then, but who’ve you hiding from? Looks like your friends have turned on you.

‘I didn’t say that,’ Amber snapped. ‘Fucking necromancers; you’re like cockroaches crawling out the woodwork.’

If Nai took offence, he didn’t show it. The grin stayed on his face as he made his way right up to Amber and squinted up at the big soldier. ‘Major, if your lord could train cockroaches to bring him information, the West would be conquered by now.’

‘You’ve got information?’

‘Some.’ The necromancer made a dismissive gesture. ‘Not much - I’ve been keeping a low profile of late - but I can still be useful to Lord Styrax, if he’s willing to extend his protection to me.’

‘Someone’s trying to kill you? Zhia? That Farlan bitch?’

Nai grinned again, looking unperturbed. ‘Not just with a slipper either; there’ve been some very curious happenings in this city.’

‘Piss and daemons,’ Amber growled. ‘Considering our history, that’s not a good sign.’ He sighed and gestured towards the gate. ‘Fine, come along then. Just stay downwind of me,’ he added, wrinkling his nose.

Gaining access to the duchess proved to be a remarkably simple affair. Amber and Nai were stopped at the gate of the Ruby Tower compound while the guards sent word of Amber’s arrival. Within a minute or two a tall sergeant sauntered out to look them over. He stood there for a minute, scrutinising first Amber, then Nai, who scowled and looked at his feet under the weight of the man’s gaze. Amber immediately noticed the change in demeanour among the other guards; suddenly they were all nervous, even the seasoned men. Amber blinked and had a sudden image of himself, as though standing before a mirror.

Strange, Amber thought suddenly, he doesn’t look anything like me. Something in the way he stands, perhaps, or maybe it’s just the look of a veteran about him?

‘I’m Sergeant Kayel,’ the man declared eventually, flexing his fingers as if preparing for a fight. His stained steel vambraces were criss-crossed in twine, his only deviation from the standard uniform. There was no obvious point to the twine that Amber could see, but he guessed there’d be some significance to those who knew. Perhaps it was a reminder of an old regiment - Amber had seen enough small traditions, memories of the lost.

He dismissed the curious thoughts from his mind and leaned forward in his saddle. ‘I don’t care who you are,’ he said quietly; ‘just take me to the duchess. I am on business of state.’

They were of a similar size and age, both scarred veterans, neither men to mess with.

But there’s at least one difference, Amber assured himself, he’s not a man likely to back down from a fight and that’s something I grew out of years back. Something about the man screamed for Amber’s attention, but he couldn’t place it. He’s not a local, he judged, but that’s not what’s out of place…

Have we met already? No, surely I’d have remembered a man of his size who walks with the confidence of a king. And yet, there is something… Gods, maybe it is just that he’s like me and you don’t get men like me staying a sergeant.

‘We’ll see who pisses highest next time we meet,’ Kayel replied with a confident smile and gestured at one of the soldiers at Amber’s side. ‘He’ll look after your horse and weapons; the duchess is waiting for you.’

Without waiting for a reply, Sergeant Kayel turned and headed for the main entrance. Amber remained where he was, puzzled, for a few more heartbeats before heaving himself gratefully out of the saddle. He handed the reins to the soldier and unbuckled his sword’ belt, catching Nai’s eye as he did so. Understanding, the necromancer came closer.

‘Why do I feel like I’ve seen that sergeant before?’ he asked softly.

‘Looked in a mirror recently?’ Nai retorted. ‘For men who look nothing like each other, you’re more than a little similar.’

‘What in Ghenna’s name is that supposed to mean?’

‘You carry yourselves in exactly the same way. There’s the same look in your eyes, even if you’re more careful about it than he, and - ‘ Nai tailed off for a moment and gave Amber a quizzical look. Without explaining he passed his hand in front of Amber’s face and muttered a few words under his breath.

‘Be careful what sorcery you try on me,’ Amber growled. The soldiers nearby flinched, not understanding his words, though they could hear the tone of his voice.

‘I was just seeing if someone else already had.’ Nai frowned. ‘And I think I was right - without looking alike beyond build and a certain brutish demeanour, he reminded me intensely of you at first glance. I need time to test the theory, but there’s some sort of link between you two.’

‘How is that possible?’ Amber asked, astonished.

‘I have no idea.’ Nai pointed to where Kayel was waiting at the main door. ‘Presumably our answer lies that way.’

As he entered the circular audience hall, Amber noticed that there were only noblewomen there to meet him. A pair of guards on either side of the door watched him intently and a quick scan of the room revealed crossbowmen perched on a gantry above the door, their weapons ready. There were servants, but no men of rank in sight at all. It made him think for a moment of the White Circle, despite the fact that Byora had always resisted the Sisterhood. Now that the White Circle had been revealed as a political front for the exiled Yeetatchen tribe, Amber guessed that the duchess was delighted she’d kept well-clear of that particular can of worms.

Natai Escral, the Duchess of Byora, was easy to pick out. She was sitting on a throne, with a child with a piercing stare squeezed in beside her and a well-dressed woman standing on her right.

I thought she didn’t have any children, and her main advisors were men? Our intelligence seems to be out of date, he thought.

Sergeant Kayel took up position to the left of the duchess, next to the child. Both women wore heavy gold jewellery and richly coloured dresses, one green, the other a deep pink. Oddly, the older duchess displayed far more cleavage than her advisor, who wore such a high neck it looked like her chin would be permanently tilted into a haughty poise.

In the shadows at the back of the room was a nursemaid, who stood with hands together and eyes on the ground, presumably there to step in if the child grew fractious. By her stood a functionary of some sort, trying to look impassive and reserved but succeeding only in looking constipated. Amber’s gaze passed over the nurse without recognition, even as Nai beside him yelped as though stung. The Menin officer shot him a look and Nai took the hint.

The weight of their combined gazes was like a hot southern wind on Amber’s face and he cleared his throat nervously, feeling suddenly ill at ease. ‘Duchess, I bring a message from Kastan Styrax, Chosen of Karkarn and Lord of the Menin,’ he said, bowing low.

‘You’re an unusual sort of messenger,’ the haughty advisor commented, inexplicably giving Amber a broad grin. The woman looked genuinely pleased to see him, as though she and Amber were old friends.

‘And you are, Madam?’

‘Lady Kinna,’ she said, scratching at her neck through the material of her dress, ‘Principal of the Closed Council.’

‘What is your message?’ the duchess interrupted softly, her fingers idly tousling the child’s hair.

Amber hesitated before responding; he wasn’t experienced with children but this one’s unblinking stare was beginning to unnerve him. The duchess’s calm detachment didn’t surprise him at all, but weren’t young children supposed to fidget and squirm rather than take an interest in politics?

‘Lord Styrax sends you his greetings,’ Amber said at last, ‘and invites you to join him as his guest tomorrow for lunch in the Library of the Seasons to discuss terms.’

‘Lunch?’ The hint of a smile appeared on the duchess’s lips. Something about the expression transformed her face and Amber realised the duchess’s age had not diminished her sexual allure a jot. Her knowing playfulness immediately brought Horsemistress Kirl to mind. ‘Your lord is sure of himself then.’

Amber coughed and tried not to stare too hard at her. ‘With respect, your Grace, he’s sure of his armies. We took Tor Salan in a day and its defences were greater than yours. The Circle City is divided and weak in comparison, but he does not wish undue bloodshed.’

‘Why come to us for talks?’ Lady Kinna asked. ‘If he has so easily conquered Tor Salan, why bother to speak to us first? Surely if he could so easily prove his power he would have done so already, and imposed his terms afterwards.’

‘Tor Salan wouldn’t have surrendered - the Mosaic Council was too sure of its defences. You have nothing comparable to be overconfident about.’

‘Or he has overextended and hopes to bluff,’ the duchess pointed out.

He inclined his head to accept the possibility. ‘Lord Styrax isn’t a man in the habit of making threats he cannot carry through. If any of the three principal rulers do not attend, he will assume your quarter is hostile to his plans, but my lord hopes you will attend the meeting; it will lose you nothing.’

The duchess leaned forward, her face betraying her curiosity. ‘Does your lord believe we will simply hand over our city to him?’

‘I bring the message, nothing more. I’m empowered only to tell you that Lord Styrax intends you to remain as ruler of your city, with Fortinn under the command of an overseer appointed by him.’

She sat back and thought for a long moment, all the while running her fingers through the child’s curls. The distracted movement did nothing to interrupt the child’s intent stare and it was Amber who felt the urge to squirm.

‘Very well, tell your lord I shall attend.’

Amber bowed. ‘I am instructed to accompany you.’

‘Out of the question,’ she snapped with unexpected anger.

‘As you wish,’ he said bowing again. ‘With your permission I will instead spend the morning praying at the shrine to Kiyer of the Deluge located on the mountain side of this tower.’

His words had the desired effect and the duchess, with a look over to Lady Kinna, shrugged and nodded. She stood, helping the child off the throne too with far more care than was required for a child that age.

‘As you wish; Jato will show you and your servant to a room and see to your needs.’

At the mention of his name the functionary hopped forward, bobbing his head like a starling. Without looking back the duchess headed for the main stairway, leading the strange child by the hand. Lady Kinna followed a few paces behind the pair, but paused long enough to smile at him again and add, ‘Don’t oversleep.’

Amber didn’t move for a moment, trying to fathom whether the woman was insane or he had somehow met her before and forgotten. His train of thought was interrupted as Nai plucked his sleeve urgently.

‘Come on, we need to talk.’

Amber smiled grimly. ‘We really do.’

Waking early, Amber had scrubbed his body over the washbasin and was halfway though dressing when a servant knocked on the door. She was blonde and a bit too curvy for Amber’s tastes, but she didn’t once look him in the eye as she carried in a tray bearing porridge and wide bowls of black tea. The first was too bland, the second too bitter, but the room was a chilly place and he gulped both down eagerly. He was eyeing Nai’s food when the portly necromancer emerged from the sleeping cell opposite his and gave a small cheer at what awaited him.

A tall window at one end of the thin room admitted the only light. The windowless bedroom had been an unnervingly dark place in which to sleep, so Amber, feeling foolish and cowardly, had gone to sleep with the candle stub still lit.

‘Bit too much like prison cells for my liking,’ Nai said in between mouthfuls.

‘At least they let us out this morning.’

The night had been far from restful. Once Nai had warded the room against eavesdroppers they had talked for an hour or more, and Amber’s head had been awhirl by the time he turned in. Nai had recognised the nursemaid at once, even if Amber hadn’t - he could barely believe how much she had changed. But the necromancer had no explanation of how she had ended up in Byora -even Zhia Vukotic had presumed Haipar died in the fighting.