The Three Lands Omnibus (2011 Edition) (78 page)

The Chara did not call me back. If he had, I would not have obeyed him.
 
CHAPTER EIGHT
As the sun began to set that evening, I was sitting where I had been all afternoon, in the inner garden of the Chara's palace.
Peter had once said that I must be a reincarnation of the man who named this location, because I shared that man's talent for understatement. The "garden" was a courtyard the size of a village. Peter often visited there since he was not allowed to go into the Emorian countryside. The garden had been fashioned to look like the country, with pastures and meadows and the stone walls that bound every Emorian field, but with no trees, since these are rare in Emor, though its northern dominions were heavily forested. I had come here with Peter on occasion, since I now avoided looking out of windows but was still seeking scenery that would return to me the peace of heart I had left behind in Koretia.
I had never found that peace in the garden, nor anywhere else in the palace, save in the presence of Peter. Now, I knew, I would not even find it there.
I sat in the corner of the garden, hidden by bushes from the lords and officials who had been drawn to this place by the golden summer sun. My eyes were closed, and my fingers ran over the emblem at the tip of my dagger hilt. I had always thought that Peter had given the dagger to me out of love, the sort of love that sometimes grows between a master and his servant. I had raged against Lord Carle because he had not shown such love to Henry, but I had never doubted that Peter felt that way toward me. Now, though, there whispered in my mind Peter's final words to me. Had he really given me my freedom out of love for his loyal subject? Or had he simply been the Chara, fulfilling his duty by selecting a servant whom he could use as an intermediary with his slaves? I had once said that Peter wore a mask; now I feared that he wore that mask even with me.
I opened my eyes and saw that it was growing dark. The dinner hour had arrived, and as I stood up, I saw that the garden was now deserted but for two soldiers guarding a passageway running directly to the Chara's quarters.
I did not head that way. I was not sure where I would go, but I could not face Peter while I was still unsure of what sort of man he was. Instead, I stepped onto the cobbled pavement bordering the garden and walked toward a doorway for another passage that eventually ended at the corridor leading to the Map Room. I could see the soldiers watching me and exchanging whispers. They must have been among those who had overheard my fight with Lord Carle.
I was thinking this when I reached the doorway and nearly walked into Lord Carle.
He was about to step out of the doorway from the narrow passage behind, and my first impression of him was that he looked like a weary veteran from the Border Wars, retreating after some great defeat. He had changed out of his ceremonial dress, and his hand touched his belt lightly, as though he missed the sword there. He stopped the moment that he saw me, and a wariness entered his eyes. He did not speak, but neither did he move, and I did not expect him to move, for we were face to face, and he was waiting for the servant to step out of the way of the council lord.
I felt a sudden flicker of anger inside me, not only for his easy assumption of my inferiority, but also because he had been the cause of my quarrel with Peter.
We stood a moment more as I waited for him to tell me to move away. And then – it was a sight that every servant in the palace would have paid good money to see – Lord Carle stepped aside in the doorway to allow me to pass.
It was too late. The flicker of anger had grown into a cool blaze inside me, and I promptly moved to one side to block his way again. His lips tightened, but still he did not speak.
"We did not finish our conversation, Lord Carle," I said with a false tone of calmness.
Lord Carle was again silent. Then he said softly, "I do not think that you should be speaking to me."
"I beg your pardon for addressing a council lord in such a bold manner," I said, "but as you have often told me, I have little respect for my superiors. This being the case, I demand that you explain why you said that I am disloyal to the Chara."
Cold amusement entered into Lord Carle's eyes, though his mouth remained somber. "Loyalty is a subject I am now well acquainted with," he said, "since I have spent the past three hours with your master, listening to him explain what form he expects my loyalty to take. I must admit that I am surprised that you would pick these particular circumstances to defend to me your loyalty to the Chara. Nonetheless, since you have asked the question, I will answer it. I did not say that you were disloyal to the Chara – that is another question, for another day. What is beyond dispute is that you are a traitor to Koretia."
He stepped past me then, and stood on the pavement beside me. I was paralyzed at his words. Further down, I could see that the soldiers, though too far away to hear our conversation, were entertained by our confrontation.
I said, with a voice as cold as my body felt, "That should give you great joy, Lord Carle."
"On the contrary, it lessens my respect for you. When we first met, you told me that you had made a blood vow to kill the Chara – I do not think that you have forgotten that vow, as the Chara told me a short while ago that you had revealed it to him for the first time. It is not clear to me why you felt the desire to mention this matter to him, since you are now the Chara's free-servant, are wearing the Emorian tunic he gave you, are not planning even a short trip to Koretia, and do not, as far as I know, have any plans to kill the Chara. If you were in fact contemplating some secret betrayal, I might regain the respect for you that I lost on the night when I discovered you chatting with the Chara as though he were your blood brother rather than your sworn enemy."
Something rumbled inside me, like a small fire growing large, or a thundercloud in the moments before lightning strikes. I said, again calmly, "You will at least admit that, whatever my past loyalties, I am now loyal to the Chara."
"I would like to think that you are. It would give me joy to think that you plan to dedicate your life to serving the Chara. Or, if this were not the case, it would at least give me some satisfaction to find that you have been secretly plotting to kill him and that you have always remained loyal to your Koretian brothers. But what I fear is that you are dedicated to no man but yourself – that you are a creature incapable of loyalty, enjoying a pleasant childhood in Koretia, and then being tempted away by the luxuries of Emor. That is not the sort of loyalty that the Chara needs." The scorn was unshielded in Lord Carle's voice now.
I said, still keeping my voice low so that the soldiers could not hear me, "I swore an oath to be loyal to the Chara."
"As you swore a vow to kill him. You will not need to answer to any imaginary Koretian gods for breaking your blood vow, but you
will
have to answer to the Chara if you betray him."
I felt a crack of lightning go through my body as the cold fire inside began to rage out of control. I made one last effort to master my anger, saying through gritted teeth, "I will never betray the Chara."
"Your very words reveal your disloyalty. Only a few minutes ago, the Chara instructed me not to start any conversations with you, and I assume that he gave you the same command. You have already betrayed his trust by your disobedience here."
He walked past me toward the garden, but had not yet stepped off the pavement when he whirled around at the sound of hissing metal.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the soldiers frozen with their hands on their sword hilts, afraid to move forward lest they make matters worse. Lord Carle was frozen too, his gaze on the dagger that came slowly toward him. As I placed the dagger tip against his heart, his eyes rose to meet mine. I waited to see what his last words would be; I could read neither anger nor fear nor anything else in his look.
He said, in a voice as serene as our surroundings, "I see that I am to become acquainted with a new Koretian custom, that of killing an unarmed man."
The dagger ripped through a few threads of his tunic, then screamed and sparked as it skidded over the pavement toward the soldiers. In the moment that followed, I saw nothing except the smile beginning to form on Lord Carle's face.
Then the soldiers raced toward me. I did not run; I was looking at Lord Carle, who was lying on the ground where I had struck him down.
The following evening, the palace guards brought me, hand-bound, to see the Chara.
Each of my two escorts had a hand clasping one of my arms in an effort to ensure that their dangerous prisoner did not escape. Their other hands held unsheathed swords, ready at a moment's notice. We marched by the doorway guards, past the doors open to receive us, and into the Map Room, dark but for a single torch whose flame wavered in the nighttime breeze.
The Chara was leaning over the table, examining a piece of paper there; his finger-tips rested lightly on the black wood. He was facing the doors, but did not look up as we entered. The soldiers jerked to a halt, saluting their ruler with their swords, and then the senior guard announced in a loud voice, "Great Chara, we have brought the prisoner."
Still the Chara did not look up. His face and body were hidden in shadow. In an even, ordinary voice, he said, "You may leave the prisoner here and wait outside."
The guards released me, and after a moment their retreating steps were followed by the sound of the doors closing, and then silence. Finally the Chara looked up. He walked slowly around the table until he was standing at its side and his body was once more in the light. His face was cold and formal, and on his chest lay the Pendant of Judgment.
"Andrew son of Gideon, free-servant of the Chara," he intoned, "you have been brought here to answer charges made against you by Carle, Lord of the Great Council. The first charge is that you did willfully and with clear understanding disobey the command of the Great Chara."
He paused a moment, and I found that without thought I had fixed my gaze straight forward, as I did in the days when I was Lord Carle's servant. The torchlight cast dark shadows beneath the Chara's eyes so that his face appeared mask-like.
The Chara continued, "The witness in this charge is the Chara, and I have declined to give evidence. Therefore, the charge is dismissed."
I did not move, but stood as though my whole body were wrapped in chains. The Chara likewise was motionless as he spoke.
"The second charge," he said, "is that you did attempt to murder without provocation the same Lord Carle. The witness in this charge is Emmett, guard of the Chara's palace, and the sentence for such a crime is mercy or branding or the high doom." He stopped, waited three heartbeats, and said, "Lord Carle has withdrawn this charge, and instead charges you with striking a nobleman without provocation. The witness in this charge is the same, and the sentence for such a crime is mercy or branding or enslavement. Do you deny the charge?"
I had had time, shivering in the cool cells of the palace dungeon, to think what my answer would be. Carefully phrasing my words, I said, "I do not deny that I hit Lord Carle."
The Chara was still, assessing me. After a moment he said, "Do you deny that you struck him without provocation?"
I was silent. The gold and ruby pendant that hung around the Chara's neck shimmered in the light as his chest moved with his breathing. When he spoke again, the Chara's voice remained even and formal. "Did he provoke you?"
Again I was silent. The Chara moved his right hand slowly to his pendant. Then, in one swift and violent motion, he tore the pendant from his neck, turning to slam it down upon the table beside him. For a minute he leaned on the table, his palms fixed flat on the surface, and I could hear his heavy breathing. Finally he turned his head, and he said in his own voice, "Andrew, I cannot require Lord Carle to give witness against himself. Will you not tell me what he said to you?"
My tongue felt like a dead weight in my mouth; my lips could barely move. I said, "No."
Peter looked down at the table again and closed his eyes. He brought the fingertips of one hand up against his forehead and held them there. At last he spat out softly a brief and powerful curse that I had never heard on his lips.
He stood up, walked toward me, and passed me. There was silence behind me. Then my back stiffened as I heard him unsheathe the Sword of Vengeance. Cold metal touched me, and my bonds began to loosen as he cut them with the blade.
He said as he did so, "If you had used that dagger against Lord Carle, then I would have executed the high doom against you with my own hands for your being such a fool as to carry a weapon when you were angry. Most men can master their bloodthirst, but you cannot, and you ought to have realized that long ago."
I heard him sheathe the sword as he moved over to my left side. Holding the cut rope in one hand, he said softly, "But since you were wise enough to throw away the dagger, then I will admit that I believe you had every right to strike Lord Carle, if not for what he said to you, then for the shameful way he treated you during the years in which you were under his care."
He looked at me soberly, with gentle eyes. My expression did not change, but I felt something unknot within me, as though Peter had unbound not only my hands but my heart.
"Nevertheless—" Peter moved back to the table, tossed the rope on it, and leaned back against the wood planks, facing me. "I am the Chara. I have passed judgment before in cases like this – palace guards striking their officials and other such troubles. In many cases I have dispensed mercy, and therefore I would feel no guilt in doing so to you – if this were my case. But it is not."
I waited. Dimly, through the open window, I could hear the tramp of soldiers patrolling the city streets. Peter folded his hands but for the index fingers and brought these to his lips. He said, "My father was of the belief – and it was a good belief – that it is dangerous for the Chara to have too much power over his immediate servants. He believed that, if a palace free-servant committed a crime, someone other than the Chara ought to pronounce judgment on the servant. Therefore, since the council takes care of its own, my father bound over to the council the right to judge and sentence prisoners who are palace free-servants. And the High Lord has appointed as the council's judge one of his lords who has shown a great interest in matters of discipline."