Sworn To Conflict: Courtlight #3 (5 page)

“I take it you wish to stay, then?”

“At least for a few more days. I know there is something going on—I can feel it.”

“And the talks you wish to be a part of?” Ciardis was direct. She flashed back to the conversation between Prince Sebastian and General Barnaren that she had just overheard. Not that she had had much choice; she had been standing right there, and short of plugging her ears would have had to overhear the details.

Sebastian nodded. “Another mystery to solve. The general has received a query from a representative of the Old Ones. They wish to speak with us.”

“The Old Ones?”

“The elementals of the northern lands who imbue the land with natural magic. They inhabit the mountain chain and are staunch allies of the Algardis Empire. Or at least they were.”

She raised an eyebrow at the palpable anger in his last sentence.

Sebastian’s eyes darkened. “The Old Ones have sent a missive with their representative; they say they will act as representatives for the hordes. That mass of murderers, thieves, rapists, and monsters on our border. They would act as representatives to the Sarvinians.”

And now Ciardis could see the crux of his anger. If
kith
like the chimera were the dark creatures of the night, told as tales of powerful beasts that hunt small children to keep them in line, then the Sarvinians were the true nightmare to the people of the north. A massive collection of humans and non-humans that had massed at the border of the northern passes for generations. They sought entrance to the Algardis Empire for the wealth and lands its inhabitants had. For centuries they were thwarted by the combined efforts of the Old Ones and the Algardis Empire.

If the Old Ones reneged on their agreement, heaven help them all.

“A
ll right, first things first. Where is Vana? And who are the people that traveled with you here, and, more importantly, what do they want from me?” Ciardis said.

Sebastian had the grace to look embarrassed at his oversight. His problems had overshadowed hers in his fierce condemnation of the general’s intentions.

He cleared his throat for a moment and then spoke, “If you remember, I said I’ve been tasked to bring you home. What I failed to mention is that I’ve also been asked to head a committee into your actions in the Ameles Forest and surrounding the battle with the Shadowwalker.”

Ciardis turned to look at Sebastian from where she had been casually tracing a finger over the detailed maps lying on the table.

“Excuse me?” she said at a volume just below that of a shriek.

Prince Sebastian was no fool. He didn’t like what he was about to say; she could tell from the look on his face. But he gathered his wits and plowed ahead anyway.

“There have been concerns voiced about your actions. Where you were, how much knowledge of the Shadowwalker’s actions you truly had, and why you set out for the forest in the first place.”

Ciardis narrowed her eyes. “I set out for the Ameles Forest because I was ordered to by the head of the Companions’ Guild and Council, Maree Amber.”

“Who is dead – conveniently.”

He hastened to add as this time it was anger that cross her face, “I’ve told them that I didn’t believe a word; I argued before the court that you were innocent of even the possibility of collusion with the Shadowwalker. But my word only means so much, even now. And, well, disappearing into thin air right after the death of the Shadowwalker didn’t do you any favors, either. It’s been whispered that you arrived at the forest on his orders and left as soon as both your master and mistress were dead.”

Ciardis opened her mouth in anger. She was about to go on a tirade the likes of which Sebastian had never seen before. He held up a restraining hand. “I’m only telling you what was said to me and what they will accuse you of. You must be prepared to refute every point and clear your name.”

“I had no idea it was besmirched.”

“You’ve been asleep a long time. Unable to fight back against the rumors. Now they’ve overtaken you.”

Ciardis tried not to take offense. But it was almost impossible not to. It was hard waking from a three-week sleep fest to find out that your friends—excuse me,
allies
—had convened a tribunal in your honor. She was pissed.

“I suppose we should get started, then,” she said. He nodded.

“Simon,” called the prince. Within moments a head poked its way into the tent, followed by the body of an Imperial guardsman.

“Sire?” Simon said as he knelt.

“Alert my traveling companions. We wish to get this over with.”

He rose and gave a short bow – exiting the tent to attend to the Prince Heir’s command.

Silence stretched in the confines of the tent as they waited for the others.

A woman Ciardis didn’t recognize entered the tent first. Ciardis took in the woman; she had black hair as dark as a raven’s wing and brown eyes that glimmered even in the shadows of the tent. She was attired in a split-bottom dress that doubled as riding breeches for women who wanted to ride astride. The two legs of the skirt flared in wide circles to cleverly conceal that she was not, in fact, wearing a skirt.

Next came Lady Vana, dressed in chainmail and armor. Ciardis’s eyes widened perceptibly but she said nothing. And last came a man dressed with enough pomp for him to be on his way to a court function in the gardens in the middle of Sandrin. And yet they still stood on the edge of a battlefield. Ciardis was beginning to feel as if she’d stepped into another world, a mystical one with flying pigs that she hoped she would wake from soon.

She didn’t let that emotion show on her face. Anger was fine. Anger could induce fear. But confusion? Confusion was a sign of weakness and she couldn’t afford to show weakness. Not in front of any member of court, and certainly not in front of the Lord Chamberlain and a lady with considerable standing. Smiling outwardly, Ciardis dipped into a curtsy and addressed the buffoon attired in a multitude of colors and fabrics, “Lord Chamberlain, I presume?”

“You presume correctly.” Cold and imperious.

Curiosity flickered through Ciardis before she could stamp it down. To be honest, she’d expected a flippant response from such an overdressed caricature of a man. It would have made more sense, considering the type of courtiers that tended to flock around the Imperial throne. The emperor was a smart and calculating man. It wasn’t spoken of directly at court, but many of the courtiers surrounding him were the exact opposite. That made it easier for the ruler to exert absolute power. No one was smart enough or honest enough to contradict him.

“Very well,” Ciardis said as she turned to look at the convened committee.  His Imperial Highness Prince Sebastian Athanos Algardis, Lord Chamberlain to the Emperor Richard Steadfast, Lady Arabella of Nestor, and Companion Vana Cloudbreaker, stood before her with impassive faces.

“I come before you humbly to hear your concerns, to allay your doubts, and to profess my innocence of any crimes done in the name of the one called Lord Kastien of Borden, born as Timmoris Borden,” Ciardis said with an inaudible gulp.

Lady Arabella smiled. “Will you submit to a truth test?”

“If it means that this is over quickly and any doubt that besmirches my character is erased, then yes.”

“It will if you are honest and have committed none of the crimes outlined,” Lady Arabella said, her tone measured and composed with a hint of a drawled northern accent labeling her crisp vowels. The refined speech labeled her as court-born immediately. Someone with the power, the connections, and privilege of the rare elite who grown up in the extravagant world of the Imperial Courts. Those types of people were born for intrigue and had their fingers in every court scandal. Which was why they rarely left the emperor’s side. So why had this one come so far to meet her? Ciardis didn’t overstate her worth. She knew she was a young woman with a rare power, but she had seen rarer, especially at court. None of her gifts merited the attention of a highborn lady like Arabella, and certainly did not require the overland travel of the Lord Chamberlain, the emperor’s own advisor.

Arabella cocked her head as if she listened to something only she could hear—voices just outside the reach of the mortal realm. “Ah, but you see, Ciardis Weathervane,” Arabella said in a soft tone, “just by the nature of being who you are, with the powers you possess, you have become important enough for us to venture from the emperor’s side.”

Ciardis hadn’t spoken aloud and yet Arabella had answered her internal questions as if she had. What was going on here?

“I am the Truthsayer for His Imperial Majesty Emperor Bastien Athanos Algardis, second of his name,” said Arabella with confidence. “And I am here upon his orders to not only discern the truth about your activities in the Ameles Forest, but also to gauge your interactions with the one called the Shadowwalker, and to assess your knowledge of the whereabouts of the second known Weathervane in existence and observe your intentions for His Imperial Highness Sebastian Athanos Algardis.”

Ciardis flinched at the mention of her brother and grew colder inside. And then surprise flickered in.
They don’t know where he is? Good, that’ll give me more time to track him down myself.
She had not forgotten the treachery of everyone, friends included. The fact that everyone had hidden the existence of her twin from her from the moment she had arrived at court had hardened her heart and made her wary.

Across the room Sebastian’s face grew visibly still. She had felt the surprise and unease that had gone through him when Lady Arabella had mentioned his name. It seemed that the Prince Heir hadn’t known that his father had instructed his subjects to inquire about his relationship with her. She wondered idly what they wanted to know. “Her intentions” could mean anything. Did they want to know if she planned on betraying their precious prince? She almost laughed aloud. This was the same precious prince who had been bile under their shoes a mere six months earlier when he had been inept and powerless. My, how opinions had changed.

Ciardis let out a nervous giggle. Both at the ridiculous situation and her thoughts. She had saved him numerous times now and had intervened on his behalf at least twice. But none of that counted. Not when she was accused of collusion with the Shadowwalker. Lady Arabella’s expression made it clear that she found nothing amusing about the subject. They were serious. Ciardis almost told them aloud that they had nothing to worry about on that front, but she held her tongue. If they were going to question her fine, let them, but there was no way she’d make it any easier than she had to.

“Any intention to conceal, evade, or outright lie in answer to my questions and I will know,” Arabella said.

“The whole truth, if you please,” Sebastian said from off to the side. She found some comfort in the fact that he hadn’t chosen to join the semicircle composed of his father’s advisors.

Lady Arabella sent him a glance filled with surprise and then turned her attention back to Ciardis.

As she untied a blue silk scarf bound to her wrists in twists, she said, “A Truthsayer can discern whether or not you are attempting to evade an answer with our magic. We cannot force you to tell the truth; our magic can only detect the possibility of an untruth.”

Ciardis felt a tiny bit of unease in the massive ball at the center of her stomach disappear.

“But not to worry. I have truth serum for that,” continued Arabella.

She had finished uncoiling the blue silk scarf and pulled a tiny vial from inside its folds. It was a little bigger than the smallest finger on her hand and its contents glistened with a wet, golden liquid on the inside.

The discomfort came back in a rush.

Ciardis stared at the tiny vial in the woman’s hand the same way one would watch a copperhead snake before it struck. “What does it do?”

This time Vana spoke. She rose up from the bench that she had casually been sitting on and came over to Lady Arabella.

“This, Ciardis, is one spoonful of truth serum. The vial contains enough formula to inebriate twenty grown mean,” said Vana.

Ciardis didn’t doubt it. If Vana said it could become a firebomb, she would have believed that, too. The woman was decked out head to toe in knives and armor. Enough to take on a group and win. Ciardis had seen Vana prove herself time and again with well-developed fighting skills, but the idea of assassin-like qualities in Vana made her wonder what else the woman was hiding.

“We’ll administer a small drop on your wrist,” said Vana as she calmly took the vial from the scarf and uncorked the lid. “You’ll feel a burning sensation on your skin and a bit of smoke will rise from the contact with the oils of your flesh. This is how we’ll know it’s working.”

“With the administration of the serum, the inquiry will convene,” said Lord Chamberlain in a loud, pompous voice. Ciardis startled. She’d been so entranced by the vial coming ever closer to her hand that she’d forgotten he was even there. Just before Vana could raise the stopper of the vial, Ciardis said in a panic, “What if I refuse?”

“You can’t. You will take this serum to prove the veracity of your words. The only other option is a mind meld,” said Vana in a cool tone.

“What’s a mind meld?” Anything sounded better at this point.

“I take over your mind, go through every memory, every thought, every feeling while you are trapped in a dark corner screaming for me to let you go,” Vana replied.

“Sounds like the serum is better.”

“Most people would agree.”

At that Ciardis looked at her questioningly.
Who wouldn’t
?

“Murderers, thieves, assassins, and the like,” Lady Arabella replied. Again, as if Ciardis had spoken aloud. Ciardis threw her a dirty look. She was beginning to dislike this woman.

“Maybe they should call on you for the answers,” Ciardis said.

Dark clouds descended in Arabella’s eyes. “You don’t want to see what answers I would give, Miss Weathervane.”

Ciardis felt a cold shiver run down her spine and she involuntarily took a step back. For a moment the woman had looked like evil incarnate.