Raven's Hand (18 page)

Mistress Evelyn stood at the end of the
king’s bed, watching and waiting.

“Just once before I die I would like to have
a meal I could actually enjoy,” Stephen complained. “A juicy piece
of veal steeped in a buttery sauce of some kind.”

“Now, Stephen, even if you got it down, you
would never
keep
it down,” she said.

“I don’t really care anymore, Evelyn. At
least, I might enjoy it for a moment. This foul liquid diet is
about to drive me insane.”

“It really is for your own good, dear,” she
said, doing her best to seem soothing. Still, it was foreign to her
nature and not easily pulled off.

Stephen narrowed his gaze upon her. “What you
mean to say, my love,” he said with not a small amount of sarcasm,
“is that it is good for House Rainier that I cling to life so that
you are not overrun by Rollace or Auturn or some other great house
waiting for me to die.”

Evelyn lost her motherly demeanor in an
instant, her voice growing hard as flint. “And is that not good for
you, Stephen? Or do you wish to see all that we have built over the
years razed to the ground by our enemies? Would that make you
happy, to have your heir killed and your namesake driven from
remembrance?”

Stephen’s countenance became even more
downcast as she berated him, yet he did not interrupt her. Rather,
he began to look much like a pouting, spoiled child who has been
denied the opportunity to stay up past his bedtime. He muttered
under his breath, even as Evelyn continued.

“Yes,” she said, “We need you to live, so
that House Rainier can successfully raise up a new king. You have
known this for some time. You yourself decided what must be done
before you became too sick to leave your bed. Now is no time to
start behaving like you would see us all dead for spite’s
sake.”

She was breathing hard now, but she did not
pace about the room. Evelyn had always been strong. This
characteristic, more than anything, was why Stephen had chosen her
as his bride and mistress of House Rainier.

He crossed his arms over his chest, huffing
out his breaths, if only to have some form of the last word on the
matter. “Of course, I don’t want our house destroyed,” he grumbled.
“I never said that.”

Evelyn softened again. “Neither is it our
wish that you be in this situation,” she said. “However, a mortal
life is what it is. We must all face death. I would rather have you
back in all your glory, Stephen, as you were in the days when you
stood against the other houses and made them afraid to challenge
your authority.”

She smiled as she thought about times past—a
genuine smile, for those days were good days for them in their
marriage and in their kingdom. It had been during that time that
she bore Stephen his heir, and they had been happy together.

“I’m sorry,” he said, closing his eyes. “It’s
just hard to have one’s strength sapped away, day by day.”

Evelyn nodded, patting his shoulder. “I
understand,” she whispered, not quite bringing herself to kiss him
on the cheek. It had been some time since they were so affectionate
toward one another. “Now, eat your broth. Keep your strength up, as
best you can, for the sake of your son and the kingdom you will
leave him.”

Stephen took up his silver spoon again,
dipping it into the mixture of broth and diced vegetables. He
reluctantly shoved a spoonful into his mouth. He continued to
grumble through the process, but remained compliant.

Evelyn turned to his attendant, speaking so
that the king could also hear her instruction. “See that he also
takes his medicine as prescribed by Physician Calloway.”

The female attendant bowed her ascent,
keeping her gaze down toward the floor until the queen walked past
her.

Evelyn paused at the end of the large
bedchamber, glancing toward the woman seated there also taking her
meal. “I expect that you will continue to do
your
duty until
the last possible moment.”

Bella, the king’s bond and a Daughter of
Eliam, paused in her eating, but did not look up at the queen. She
sat upon a couch near the door, wearing rust colored robes of silk.
Her hair was hidden away beneath a scarf of the same color. Her
face was unadorned by makeup of any kind, revealing skin creased by
lines more and more as the king’s health deteriorated.

“Your strength is his strength,” Evelyn said,
scowling down at the woman. “Fail to keep him alive long enough and
I’ll see that the Malkind have a new plaything. You will not die
when he does unless I allow it.”

Bella nodded. “Yes, my lady,” she said. “I
will do my very best to serve, as always.”

Evelyn sniffed at the comment, unwilling to
confirm that the king’s concubine had always done her best.
Inwardly, she knew that Bella had been very easy to command. The
woman had obviously been impeccably trained at the abbey during her
youth. Evelyn had no real criticism of her performance of her
duties. Still, she had no love for Bella either.

She strode from the room, leaving Stephen and
Bella in the care of the king’s attendants. Evelyn hoped her
husband would manage to survive. His health had been in decline
over the last two years, the situation becoming dire only recently.
It had become imperative that her son complete the bonding ceremony
as soon as possible.

A soldier opened the bedchamber door,
allowing her out into the hall again. Evelyn headed for the other
concubine now residing inside the royal palace. While Bella had
been an ideal servant to House Rainier, Raven bode ill for becoming
the same. Every time Evelyn thought of the trouble the girl has
caused, she ground her teeth in frustration.

She passed down the corridor, her fingers
brushing the goldstone delicately. This particular variety was very
white with veins of gold running like rivulets through it. The
stone work was very precise, accomplished by stone workers from the
Guild. Using wands, they were able to smooth and polish the stones
to a glossy mirror finish.

Crystals infused with light also adorned the
walls in gold and silver sconces, creating a steady unwavering
illumination unmatched by standard lamps and candles. All around
her, the blessings of their Malkind masters stood as a testament to
their pleasure with House Rainier. As much to them as for her
family, Evelyn meant to see that this dynasty did not fall.

Coming to a stone stair, she descended to a
lower level. Here there was an octagonal chamber with rooms that
were hardly more than prison cells. Though they were finely
furnished within, their occupants did not have freedom to come and
go as they pleased. There were twelve such rooms opening to the
chamber, but only one was occupied at this time. Its door was
securely locked from the outside where a group of no less than a
dozen soldiers stood guard over Evelyn’s new guest.

The door was made of metal and had been
spelled so as to prevent escape through the use of Raven’s power as
a Daughter of Eliam. Of course, she was not the first to be housed
here. All of House Rainier’s bonds from among the Bright Ones had
spent at least their first few weeks in one of these rooms within
the palace at Rainier. Raven was simply no exception; though, in
Evelyn’s estimation, the girl was particularly likely to attempt an
escape.

Ever since meeting the girl, Evelyn had found
her to be problematic. Raven had been willful and prone to
skepticism regarding the laws of their kingdom. She placed her own
logic and reasoning above that of her superiors, if she disagreed
with a policy or law. It had often been the case. Now, she had been
found attempting to escape during the Cinderman attack in the city
and she had been in the company of a young apprentice
bladesmith.

The guards unlocked and opened the door.
Evelyn stepped to the threshold, drawing her wand from her sleeve
so that Raven could see the motion plainly. Intimidation went a
long way when dealing with slaves like these Bright Ones.

Evelyn stood still, her wand hanging in her
hand at her side. Raven sat upon the couch at the end of the poster
bed. The room was spacious and decorated luxuriously. It could
never be said that these Bright Ones were made to live poorly. They
were allowed to dwell like royalty in the very palace of the king.
Why would they ever desire to leave? Evelyn wondered.

The girl did not speak. Her expression was
one of cold detachment. Evelyn could tell already that Raven meant
to make matters difficult. Like a spoiled child, she thought.
Obviously, the rod had been spared on this one too much.

“Where is Killian?” Raven asked.

Evelyn, ready to address the girl, was
surprised by this forwardness. It was not Raven’s place to speak
until she was spoken to, and then only when an answer was required.
Once again, she proved herself willful.

Evelyn ignored the question. She had no
intention of being treated disrespectfully by a slave, neither did
she intend to reward bad behavior with its desire. She would
provide what was necessary and nothing more. Her questions were
those that would be answered.

Evelyn flicked the tip of her wand in a
warning manner. Raven’s eyes turned warily to the instrument.
Still, the defiance in the girl’s eyes remained.

“You attempted to escape twice while on your
way to the palace,” Evelyn said. Her next words were on her lips
when the girl interrupted her again.

“In both cases, Cindermen were trying to kill
me,” Raven spat. “Just as they killed Celia on the road.”

Evelyn bit back her rebuke for a moment, the
wand shuddering in her trembling hand.

“You heard about the attack on the road?”
Evelyn asked. She had assumed the news would come to them back at
the abbey, of course.

“I saw the attack when it happened,” Raven
replied.

There was anger there, malice toward the
Cindermen and, Evelyn sensed, toward her. However, this statement
about witnessing the attack on the road was too much. Evelyn could
not let this foolishness pass. She raised her wand toward the girl
and then reconsidered.

“What do you mean you
saw
the attack?”
she asked.

Raven did not look away, did not hesitate. “I
saw in a vision as the Cindermen battered your armored carriage.
They sought to kill you, but could not find you. Instead, they
found Celia. Judah, or at least someone I supposed must be their
leader, cut her throat and left her body lying in the ditch.”

Evelyn gasped unintentionally before
realizing it. She knew that Raven spoke true. While the Cindermen
attacked her guards, Evelyn had hidden inside a specially designed
secret compartment within the middle wall of the carriage. She had
watched through a peep-hole as the lion-like leader of the
Cindermen killed the young girl she had taken with her from the
abbey.

She took a step into the room toward the
girl, her wand held out before her, ready to strike if need be.
“You can see the future? What else have you seen?”

Raven remained quiet for a moment, her eyes
following the tip of the silver Malkind wand. The runes upon the
metal glowed faintly; merely a reaction to Evelyn’s thoughts. When
she actually commanded it, those runes would flare. This was what
Raven feared; more pain at Evelyn’s hands.

“Speak up, girl,” Evelyn said. “When you
should be quiet you speak, and when I want answers you hold your
tongue?”

Evelyn’s wrist cocked back, swishing the tip
of the wand to her right. Simultaneously, the wand flared at her
thought command, and Raven felt something akin to an invisible hand
strike her across the face. Her head jerked sideways, and her cheek
burned as much or more as it would have had the queen come to her
and physically struck her with the palm of her hand.

“Tell me what you have seen regarding House
Rainier and the war,” Evelyn demanded again. “Does Nathan succeed
his father, or does calamity befall us first?”

Before she had time to think about answering,
the wand swished back in the other direction with more force,
delivering a blow that sent stars swimming in Raven’s vision,
knocking her from her perch on the couch to the rug occupying most
of the floor space in the cell.

The metallic tang of blood filled Raven’s
mouth. She could feel her cheek swelling on one side, impeding her
speech. She looked up at the queen, Evelyn looming before her with
her wand ready.

“I have seen nothing regarding this house,”
Raven spat as blood gathered upon her lips.”

“Lies!” Evelyn shrieked, reminding Raven of
the crone from her dreams; the cackling hag who only desired to
cause her unending pain.

The wand moved again, but Evelyn used it to
inflict nerve pain this time. Raven felt burning in the pit of her
stomach; a flame that wanted to devour her innards like worms upon
a corpse. She cried out in agony, Evelyn holding her in the grip of
the wand’s power.

Raven writhed upon the floor as a thousand
daggers drove themselves invisibly through her body. All at once,
Evelyn relented, and the pain subsided like a switch that has been
thrown into its off position. Still, the queen was not through.

“Tell me what you have seen!” she
demanded.

Raven could only manage to gasp for the
breath that she had been holding against the pain a moment ago.

“I have heard from Kane about the boy,”
Evelyn said. “You kissed him in the alley and begged him not to
fight my soldiers.”

She let this statement hang between them for
a moment before continuing. “Since you evidently care for him, I
will do much worse to this Killian Radden-son. I will peel the
flesh from his bones for weeks, and then, when I finally allow him
to die, I will toss his ragged corpse in here with you!” She raised
the wand again. “Now, tell me what will become of House
Rainier!”