The Faerion (16 page)

"Treteste is not popular," said Garlac. "Perhaps you should give a speech to the newcomers affirming their choice. Throw off the yoke of Treteste's support. Condemn him to the people. Let them know there are choices."

"You speak quite well," said Daass. "Perhaps the Vizier should speak instead."

"As you wish."

They both watched the crowd silently.

"This time we shall have control of the throne," said Daass. He spoke almost to himself. Garlac looked carefully at him.

"You think so? Treteste is not the most stable mind in Nantitet. He won't keep to bargains nor will he tolerate different opinions."

"That is true, however, he is a suspicious man and if we can prove to him that we can hold throne for him we may see a change in our fortunes. None of his advisors are secure - we can have the entire council filled by our representatives and Treteste ignorant that it happened under his nose. We backed him against Yeates; he should be reminded of that."

"But it wasn't widely known. That information could hinder us now."

"True, but perhaps he wasn't crazy when we supported him?" Daass looked at Garlac with raised eyebrows.

"Ah, that could well be true. I will start new rumors."

"Excellent. I love this city, this ancient Nantitet. Sometimes I can feel the spirits of the Arayr's still walking the avenues. We must not let the heritage of Nantitet be tarnished by an unstable king."

They stood quietly, each following their own interpretation of that scenario.

"Time for you to speak to the crowd. Send Sister Dellana to me."

"Yes, Lord Daass," said Garlac.

Garlac spoke to an aide and walked out to speak with the newcomers. Daass fingered an amethyst on his desk, staring into its violet depths. He was motionless for many minutes, not noticing when Sister Dellana entered the room. She stood before his desk, nervously shifting her weight in very small increments, hoping Daass wouldn't notice. Suddenly, he jerked his head, his eyes blinking. He stared at Dellana without speaking, and then nodded his head.

"I believe you have information that I desire," said Lord Daass.

"No, Lord Daass. I'm afraid I have not been successful. Sir Kirkes has not returned to his estate. I've been unable to find out anything."

"Not what you have found, my dear, but the information from your friend, Brother Carle. I understand he has learned much about our new queen. What has he told you?"

"Nothing."

Daass frowned, and then smiled very briefly. Dellana wasn't sure if he had smiled at all.

"Come now, Sister Dellana. Do not trifle with me." He raised his voice a tiny bit, but Dellana grew agitated. She wasn't sure what he knew, but she suspected Garlac had related some of what he heard at her room.

"Honest, Lord Daass. He heard Queen Richela's confession, but he told me nothing that she had said. He asked for advice on what he should do with the information and I told him it was his decision. But I do not know the substance of the information."

"I see. But he was concerned about what he knew? He had vital information and yet was constrained by the confessional. He was agitated about what to do?"

"He seemed to be."

"We may assume he weighed heavy the silence of the confessional with obedience to me. Do you concur?"

"If you say so, Lord Daass."

He looked sharply at her, his fingers moving over the amethyst. He held it up to the light.

"And do you foresee his decision? Will he come to me with the information?"

"You trained us well, Lord Daass. None of the brethren would betray a sacred trust for political motives."

Daass stared as if unsure of what he heard. He bit his lip gently, and then laughed, slapping his desk.

"Excellent. You have done well. I don't believe you need to seek out Sir Kirkes. I have all the information I need. Thank you, Sister Dellana. You shall be rewarded."

"As you wish, Lord Daass." She turned to leave.

"A moment, Sister Dellana. How does Garlac know so much about you?" Her stomach knotted, unable to relax.

"About me? I don't understand." She discreetly looked around the room to be sure they were alone, but Daass noticed her mood.

"He can predict how you will react in certain situations and is usually correct. He predicted that you would tell me what you did in the manner that you did. Why is that? He has no intuition about any other Brethren or anyone else that I know of. Why would he know you so well? Did you know each other prior to joining the Brotherhood?"

Dellana's mouth hung open.

"You needn't reply right now. Think about it, and then tell me. You and Garlac have a secret history and I intend to find it out. For now I am satisfied that you are aware that Garlac and yourself are in my thoughts, that I am concerned about you. Remember, Garlac is a dangerous man; play no games with him. Or with me."

In the afternoon Garlac entered the back room of a tavern. The main room lacked customers; only two weathered travelers sat near the fireplace. Garlac nodded at the proprietor as he walked to the rear. A hooded man sat at a table, an empty wine bottle in his hand. Garlac sat down. A tanned leathery hand waved to the barmaid, bringing a second bottle. After she left, Garlac spoke softly to his companion.

"Do not summon me from the chapterhouse directly. Daass has spies everywhere."

"As I do," said Mortic, Treteste's advisor from Mordyn. "As I do. Both the king's spies and my own do my bidding. It is especially satisfying to hear information from varied viewpoints. Makes a clearer picture."

"Yes, yes. What can you do for me?"

"What can I do?" asked Mortic. "Very much. But it remains to be seen what you will do for me. You have not proven yourself in your assignment. I am not impressed. You did not procure the book for me and I am disappointed. That was the point of the Brotherhood supporting Treteste was it not? To gain his trust and access to him. You had the run of the castle while he was dispatching Yeates."

"We searched the castle but it was not there. He had it with him at Stormridge. Yeates was very protective of it. Treteste also failed to retrieve it from Yeates. It was not at Stormridge after Treteste took control."

"Plenty of time to point fingers later Garlac. The book is beyond us now. Galamog will send other agents for it. So let's discuss what you can get for me. I desire information about the Brotherhood. Military power, wealth, and anything on Daass's schemes."

"I don't feel comfortable discussing the business of the Brotherhood."

"Don't make me laugh Garlac. You look out for yourself. You'd sell your own mother if it would benefit you. Now will you do as I ask? Or shall I find another source?"

"I can help with some information, but Daass's mind is a closed door. He shares few confidences and even has me followed."

"Followed?" Mortic voice rose. Only the fingers holding the bottle displayed emotion; whitening knuckles and a slight tremor. "You did not tell me of that development."

"I lost him, do not worry. It would take more than the best Calendia can offer to trail me."

"I see. I certainly hope so, for your sake." Mortic relaxed in stages, his eyes continually checking the doors. "I have too many projects that must remain discreet. There are many things in motion. Wierland is invading Calendia."

"I knew that," said Garlac. "That's all the messengers have brought to us lately. I'm not sure where our position will be."

"Really? Wierland is attacking your kingdom and you don't know where you stand?"

"Speaking as a Brother of the Rose. I have not heard Lord Daass make a statement on the upcoming war."

"I see. They are led by a knight called Galen. A large fellow with broad shoulders, long shaggy brown hair and dark green eyes."

"Galen? Dark green eyes? Are you sure?" Garlac's eyes looked far beyond Mortic's shoulder.

"You sound as if you know of him," said Mortic.

"I knew of a boy named Galen, many years ago. My son actually. His mother ran away with him; she did not appreciate my position in the Brotherhood. It can't be the same person." Garlac suddenly realized he spoke too freely and said no more.

Mortic smiled and continued.

"He is a berserker, I'm told. He kills for the pleasure of it. This is of course distressing in Mordyn. The invasion, I mean. If Wierland and Calendia unite without severe losses the combined might would be too great for Mordyn to contend with."

"Is Mordyn going to invade?"

Mortic put his finger on his chest as if to say 'you are asking me?'

"I cannot say. I do not know the mind of Lady Galamog. I do know that the security of Mordyn is always a topic of discussion and the Kingdoms of Men are considered a threat to Mordyn. The recovery of the book was of extreme importance to Lady Galamog. Several of the messengers I sent to tell her of our progress did not survive their meeting with Lady Galamog; it is perilous to bring ill news to her. An important event to note; Lord Berimar is abroad and that has not happened in my lifetime."

"The sorcerer really exists?"

"Yes, he does." Mortic cringed, remembering a past encounter with Berimar. "Although he is cruel and powerful, he is but a servant for Lady Galamog as I am. Pray she does not personally enter the battle, else you will see a horror this world is not prepared for."

"You speak so harshly of your queen."

"I admit it. But I speak no falsehoods. It is said she is not a creature of this world." Mortic returned to his private thoughts.

"Tell me," Mortic said at last. "What do you wish for your assistance in my requests?"

"Magic. Sorcery. I want the power they bring. I am tired of serving others."

"I see. Very sensible. I can obtain some spells for you, perhaps from Berimar himself. If I can, you must be very careful to follow the instructions exactly. There are many souls in Galamog's torment because they were imprecise with their spells. And be certain that the Lady would be delighted in your company. I should not say this perhaps, but Berimar has been known to weave a trap in the spells he hands out."

"A trap? What for?"

"To insure no one becomes as powerful as himself perhaps, I do not know. But sorcerers are a jealous lot. I have heard Berimar raise his fists to the sky cursing Blackthorne for some indignity from past eons. For all their power they can be quite petty. I will obtain the spells for you, but I do not guarantee your safety. The very first one could kill you, or none of them. It is your chance to risk."

"Your words are not comforting," said Garlac.

"We Mordyn are not a comforting race. We delight in misery and misfortune. We live in a harsh climate with a demanding Jungegud to rule us. I remind you to think carefully before you accept magic from Mordyn."

"You sound as if it is guaranteed to harm me."

"I cannot say, but it is likely. So, think of some other trade. We have ample gold, for example. Perhaps too mundane for a particular man like yourself, but still useful and it may help you in other matters."

"I will settle for magic."

"As you wish." Mortic smiled to himself. "Let us speak of information I do not possess."

"Here? We could be overheard. You put me in terrible danger. Even at this moment Daass is preparing to expose the failings of Kirkes to Treteste. Treteste will be in a terrible anger, killing anyone who opposes him."

"Ah, Sir Kirkes. Surely Treteste is aware of the infidelity. Seemingly everyone in Calendia has that knowledge. I was amazed by the gossip of one of the serving girls in an inn I frequent. There could not be any way she could have the information except from another's indiscretion."

"Nobles don't speak of it."

"Really. I am amazed once again. The nobility, people who thrive on the shortcomings of others are so refined as to refrain from discussing the queen's love life. I hardly find that ringing true. I think you have paid little attention to the people around you if they do not figure in your immediate plans."

"I have no time."

"Make time, Garlac. If you truly want what I can provide. Make the time or find your spells elsewhere. My task is the study of Men and their motives. I want no other information nor do I need it. You have stated what you want and so have I. I will contact you in three days. Do not look for me."

Mortic stood up and walked away, leaving Garlac to pay for the wine.

The older man stood erect, unbowed by his age and waited patiently. He knew the nuances of the court and ignored all the subtle moves of disrespect sent his way. Pettiness was not worth his effort. He pretended to admire the intricate carving of the arch of the doorway.

"Be welcome, Lord Daass. It is indeed a pleasure to have the company of the guiding light of the Brotherhood of the Rose. Your works have inspired me for many years." The king sat on his throne, eating a pear. Juice ran down his chin, dripping on his robe. His face was flushed and his eyes bright under his bushy eyebrows.

"Thank you, your highness. Your praise is gracious. I trust your coronation has brought what you have sought?"

"You speak in riddles, Daass. I am king and it is all I desired. What else do you mean?"

"I was speaking of fulfillment, a contentment of the soul as you begin your reign."

"Well, yes. I am very content. Are you surprised?"

"My brethren hear troubling stories from many types of people, whether in confession, which seals them from repeating the words or during counseling. Many items are mere ramblings of sick people but when the rumors become consistent from a wide range of people I tend to give credit to them."

"What are you saying, Daass? I can't spare the entire night."

"I have a troubling matter to relate to your majesty."

"You may speak freely without fear. Provided you finally do speak."

Daass nodded, inwardly cursing the pompous man.

"I fear there are rumors of a friendship between the queen and a knight."

"Ah, I see where this is leading. I, too, have heard these rumors, but there are no grounds for them. None whatsoever."

"I beg to differ on that point, your majesty. Although the man would not verbalize it, I was able to gleam information from one of my brothers. He had heard a confession from a noblewoman. Now, I want it to be clear that he did not break the seal of the confessional. Garlac was able to ask piercing questions of this brother for which even a non-answer was an answer. I can state with confidence that Sir Kirkes is the man in question and the relationship has a long history."