The Invisible Chains - Part 3: Bonds of Blood (23 page)

“Let nobody through,” he said. “Nobody. Nobody at all. I don't care who it is. I don't care if they have an appointment.”

“An emergency?” Arranulf asked.

“Sort of. Nothing serious,” he added to prevent Arranulf asking further questions. “He just can't see people now. Close the doors behind me. Shove your chair and the table before them and stay there until I come back.”

“You can count on me,” Arranulf said, while shoving the table in its new position.

Hemarchidas looked at the young duke.

“Go, Hemarchidas. The prince needs you. Nobody will disturb you.”

As he was closing the doors behind the Cheridonian, Arranulf thought he could hear someone cry. The faint sound died out when he locked them.

“
You're not invulnerable and we shouldn't expect you to be. Yet, whatever happened, at least it must be nice
to have someone who looks out for you like that.”

“And all these weeks you carried that around with you? Alone? One would think you don't have any friends

to talk with.”

It had sounded just that more bitter than Hemarchidas intended it to.

“It's not exactly something you start discussing at dessert,” Anaxantis said.

His eyes were still moist, but he smiled faintly.

Hemarchidas had come sitting beside him on the chair, that was broad, but no roomy enough for the both of them. Anaxantis sat half on his lap. The Cheridonian held him in his arms.

“I will never find out, this way,” the prince sighed. “He sinks further and further away from me, and there is no resolution in sight. And I can barely keep the monsters at bay. I just don't know what to do anymore.”

Hemarchidas needed some time to formulate what he wanted to say. And to be sure he didn't let transpire what he wanted to keep to himself.

“You're smart, my friend, very smart,” Hemarchidas said, caressing him. “You'll find a solution, no, the solution, the perfect solution. Just give it time, relax and one day it will come to you. It always does.”

“
Except this time it won't, because you know already what the solution is. You just don't want to face it. But,
don't worry, I'll do it for you. When we depart from here to go to war, after half a day or so, I'll make some
excuse. I'll say I am called away to some other unit. An army moves slowly, but on my own I can travel at
Cheridonian speed. I'll return to Lorseth in disguise. With you away the place will have slackened its
routines. I'll find a way into the tower, if I have to climb its walls from the outside. I'll break the naked
monster's neck and get rid of its corpse. Lethoras told me how he did it with another beast.

“
My task will be simpler though. All I need is a sheet to wrap him in and then, later, some good, heavy
stones. I know just the place where the cliffs jut out, far over the sea.

“
If — and that's a big if — but, if we return he will be gone. Nobody will know what happened. Nobody will
have seen anything. And you my friend will mourn him, I know. And I will mourn as well, for you and your
grief. But it will pass. Eventually it will pass and you will adapt, as you always do. You will accept the
unacceptable, because, it can't be helped. You might wonder if he jumped out of a window or if some enemies
out of his past got to him, but eventually the questions will fade away too, because there will be no answer
and you will get used to the fact that he is gone, gone for good.

“
And the dark monsters that upset and confuse you so much will be gone as well.

“
I'll take care of you, my friend. I have your back. Always.”

Emelasuntha and Sobrathi had gone for a ride. The baroness had doubted the wisdom of venturing outside the walls, but the queen had perfunctory overruled her and shrugged at her objections.

“After all, we can't remain cooped up inside all time, dear. We would grow fat.”

“Humph,” had been the baroness's only reaction.

They stopped at a small hill with a knotted tree, and sat down beside it. The baroness got a jug out of her saddlebag. Sitting down she offered it to Emela her s tonotsuntha, who, smiling, removed the cork and took a swig.

“Damn, dear, is this watered down?” she said, pulling a face.

“Sure it is. Eight to ten, I believe.”

“Eight measures of wine, surely?” the queen asked suspiciously.

“Oh, who am I kidding. No, it isn't watered down. Who would want to ruin a fine wine like this?”

Emelasuntha grinned, took another swig and passed the jug to her friend.

“It's so peaceful, isn't it?” the baroness said after a while.

“I don't like it. It's too flat. The landscape, I mean.”

“Getting homesick, dear?”

The queen picked a leaf of grass and put it in her mouth.

“I suppose. A bit, maybe. Even Soranza would do. The vineyard, the soft glowing hills. Here and there a little, elegant temple basking in the sun, like a little jewel. This, this is primeval land. Flat. Cold. Sludgy and drab. Heavy. It sticks to the sole and to the soul.”

“I think next time I will water the wine down, dear. Doesn't this little hill remind you of something?”

The queen looked questioningly at her friend.

“Don't you remember? Anaxantis's little statuette?”

The queen smiled remembering.

“Yes. That awful, cheap thing.”

“He was heartbroken.”

“I know. He loved it to bits. He loved looking at it, holding it... What did he see in it? It was just a boy, playing a flute, sitting under a tree, looking straight ahead.”

“And his dog. A brown, long-haired shepherd dog. Sitting on its hind legs, also looking straight ahead.”

“One wonders what they were looking at.”

“He probably was wondering as well. Until he broke it.”

“I was there when it happened. He was holding it as usual. He must have held it too forcefully or something.

Anyway, the boy's head broke of. He was so surprised he dropped the thing and it shattered. He was inconsolable. He was still so little.”

“Yes, it was really pitiful to see the look of desperation on his cute little face when he saw the shards lying at his feet.”

The queen looked up.

“Remember how we sent the servants into town to look for a replacement?”

“Lazy buggers came back empty handed of course.”

“So did we, dear. And we searched high and low. Every conceivable shop, every stall on every market in Ormidon. Nothing.”

“No. Nothing.” Sobrathi sighed.

“Well, it was to be expected, I guess. I had brought it from Zyntrea, and it was a cheap old thing. Can't even remember how I got it.”

“It was an anonymous gift. After the siege you received dozens of them. Some of them very strange.”

The queen laughed.

“Yes, you're right. Somebody before Anaxantis must have loved it.”

They remained silent, reminiscing.

“At last we found some kind of replacement,” the baroness broke the silence.

“Yes, much more beautiful. Fine porcelain instead of crude plasterwork. Expertly painted. Intricate.

Detailed.”

“He hated it on first sight.” Sobrathi laughed.

“He did, didn't he?” the queen joined in.

“And then it was your turn to be disappointed. You had put so much effort into finding it.”

“You were with me all the time, dear. But, admit it, he was a perfect little gentleman about it.”

“Thank you mother. Thank you aunt Sobrathi. It is very nice,” the baroness quoted.

They laughed out loud.

“Later he put it on the highest shelf of his cupboard. He had to climb on a chair to reach it.”

“Yes,” Sobrathi said. “Clever little devil. He knew we would see it whenever we entered his room. From his viewpoint it was invisible.”

“He never touched it again,” the queen sighed. “Well, I suppose it taught him a valuable lesson. Sometimes we break things. We don't mean to, but we do. And we can't always mend them. We just have to learn to live with the loss.”

They had avoided the main roads, but nevertheless they were seen. Not that the Black Shields took any notice of the old woman, carrying sticks of wood she had obviously been gathering for her hearth or stove.

The old woman let the horsemen pass and hurried home. Out of a shed she fetched a small bale of hay and threw it upon the floor before the hearth. Out of a cupboard she took a small satchel with powder, poured it in a pot with some water and started stirring. She distributed the mixture evenly over the straw and let it soak in for a minute. Then she threw the bale on the fire.

Immediately it started to smolder and produced an intense black smoke. Most of it went up in the chimney, but enough of it filled the room to force her to go outside.

Annoying, but the Tribe of Mekthona had been good to her for many, many years, and she knew the queen counted on her.

Sobrathi nudged her friend and pointed to the black plume in the distance.

“It seems we'll be seeing Soranza sooner than you thought, dear,” she said.

Emelasuntha looked up. She felt her blood rushing faster through her veins.

“You're right. If they have discovered this hide out, there's nowhere safe anymore in Ximerion for us. To the horses.”

Riding as if Zardok and all his minions were after them, the women rode into the inner court of Sermyn's farm.

“Black Shields,” Emelasuntha shouted. “Evacuate. Now.”

She ran into the main house followed by a panting Sobrathi.

“The bare essentials, dear,” the queen said, mounting the stairs. “They will be here soon.”

“I always keep a bag ready,” the baroness answered. “Just let me put on some travel gear.”

“Avadesquan warrior women travel gear, of course.”

“That goes without saying,” the baroness grinned.

Minutes later they stood back on the inner court, where a servant had been holding their horses. The master of the Sermyn House came running to them.

“This is it?” Froinell asked.

“I'm afraid so, master. They'll be here within the hour. See to it that you and your people are as far away from here as possible by then. Disperse.”

“Yes, my lady,” the master answered.

“And, Froinell...”

“Yes?”

“Torch the place, Froinell. It has become useless to us, and it will save you the trouble to wipe out all possible traces.”

The master sped away.

“That's a bit wasteful, isn't it, dear?” the baroness said.

“Bah. We have other chapter houses. Besides, this has not been exactly a home, yet I don't relish the thought of Black Shields rummaging through the stuff we have to leave behind and touching the things we touched.

Better it is all gone by the time they arrive.”

They led their horses through a small door at the backside, mounted and drove off.

After a quarter of an hour the queen halted and looked back. She was satisfied to see that in the distance Sermyn's farm was burning at it's four corners.

It had been lonesome at the beginning, but Timishi had been as good as his word. He had called his Mukthars together in the big place, downstairs, which they used as communal room.

“This is Lorsho of Iramid,” he had said. “He's staying with us. Leave him alone. Don't enter his room unless he invites you to.”

None of the Mukthars had said anything, some had grunted affirmatively, and all had nodded at Timishi.

Their prince had spoken and that was that. Of course, none of them had acknowledged his presence in the room.

Timishi had shown him his room on the second floor. A nice, big one with a view of the courtyard, a magnificent, large bed, several chests, and a massive cupboard to put his things in. He had bettered himself, at least as far as his lodging was concerned.

The room had a lock, but he doubted anybody would dare enter without permission. When he went out, he locked it anyway. Not that he ventured outside much. He didn't know how they had spun the story of him leaving the page's barracks, but it hadn't enhanced his popularity. And that had already been at a dismally low point to begin with.

The first evening he went to The Hole, got a cup of what they pleased to call wine, and sat down at a table.