Tinderbox, page 6
When she released him, Quillin’s face beamed. “Thank you, my lady. I will tell my companions to partake of your services so they may also benefit.”
As Quillin rose to leave, he paused, his gaze settling on his fellows, who continued to goad him. Uncertainty showing on his face, Quillin turned to her again. “Um, my lady…would you care to dine with me?”
Isbet raised an eyebrow. If you continue to make decisions only to impress your friends, you will have an unhappy life. “Join me, Sir Quillin,” she said.
At the very least, she would grace him with her company.
Chapter Six
“Bram, please, listen to reason.”
“No.” Bram held Seth to him. The boy whimpered against his neck. “Take Seth. Get away. I’ll give myself up to the guards.”
Seth’s voice was soft against his ear. “I want to go with you, Bram.”
Bram loved Seth too much to hurt him with angry words, but he wished Seth would just do as he said. “Jaryl….” Bram stood facing his brother. The passageway was dim and smelled of mold and gave Bram an uncomfortable feeling of claustrophobia. “No one knows about these passageways, Jaryl, yet they keep finding us. That means—”
“Yes,” Jaryl said, his voice grim. “I know what it means.”
“Sire?” It was Tamair. He had gone ahead with a few of his soldiers to see if the way was clear. “We may have found an alternate route.”
Bram gave Jaryl a questioning look. Jaryl’s brows rose, his unspoken reply plain on his face. Tamair? Surely not.
“My Lord Patriarch? Arch-bishop?”
“There are so few of our enemy,” Jaryl looked pleadingly at Bram. “We’ll take them prisoner. If Wilhelm sends reinforcements, we can say you never arrived here or perhaps got waylaid on the road.”
“No.”
“Bram, please—”
He leaned forward and kissed his brother on the cheek. “There was a storage room some ways back. Lead the guards there. We’ll wait for them.”
Jaryl’s throat worked as he swallowed. Tears brimmed as he struggled to keep them from falling. He stood for a moment before turning and striding away. “Follow me,” Jaryl barked to Tamair.
“Bram?”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry.”
Bram snuggled his cheek against Seth’s. His own tears ran in salty tracks down his face. “Thank you.”
* * *
Leaving Tamrath behind was not the most difficult thing Bram would ever do in his life, but it ripped a piece of his soul away just the same. He only hoped Jaryl would be able to ferret out their betrayer before they undermined the resistance from within. He prayed to the Triune for his family’s continued health and safety.
Captain Maive was apologetic, but she didn’t grovel, which increased his respect for her tenfold.
“I advised against traveling through Tamrath without a Gifted escort,” Captain Maive commented as they rode. “However, it was the king’s feeling that they wouldn’t try to reclaim you.”
Bram knew that wasn’t the reason, but he didn’t comment.
“I doubt since we retrieved you that the king will take any action against Tamrath.” There was a note of reassurance in her voice. Bram had feared just that. “But more than likely he’ll want to investigate. It’s a pity you didn’t recognize your kidnappers. We assumed firstly that your brother and his sorceress had made the attempt.”
“My brother wouldn’t be that reckless,” Bram muttered.
“My apologies, I meant no disrespect.”
Bram was too weary to feel insulted. “I know, Captain.”
Their journey went on as before, the only difference being that neither Bram nor Seth spoke much, and the guards scrutinized their surroundings and all those who approached them. The courtiers went on as though nothing had occurred.
* * *
Galil-Galith was much like Bishop’s Lane, although there were many examples of the pantheon of gods and goddesses worshipped by the people of Chira. Their beliefs were like those of their sister country, Chirilith. It looked to Bram like there was a deity representing all aspects of life, and the symbols of their existence were in each building and on every street corner.
There had been a time in their mythos that the Riven Isles were one great continent worshipping the same gods, until the Celestial Vine fell by the Woodsman’s Ax and broke the land into its many pieces. It had been one of Bram’s favorite bedtime stories. There were those who believed the Celestial Vine existed and others, like Bram, who relegated it to a whimsical fairy tale.
Galil-Galith’s palatial estate sat atop a hill overlooking the city, accessible only by a single main thoroughfare. The sheer drop down its east-facing side into a crescent-shaped lake below made for the perfect way to repel invaders. The cliff face was impossible to climb, as there was no shore to land on and the lake met the rock wall.
One could try to swim the lake, but from Bram’s understanding that was a bad idea, as those who tried found themselves pulled down to either never surface again or surface with limbs missing. There was an inner compound surrounded by a wall of stone where the extended family members of the royal house lived and worked. Captain Maive presented their credentials to a burly guardsman and a group of five Chir soldiers joined them.
Despite himself, Bram again took an interest in his surroundings. He had been to Chira before; however, it was several years before, and he noticed the changes that had taken place in the inner complex. The burly guardsman had taken the lead to escort them to one of the small but opulent homes reserved for royal guests. Bram’s immediate party and their guards would stay there. The courtiers were deposited at a local inn. Bram needed the respite.
Once their bags were inside the house, the captain of the guard announced, “The queen will summon you at her leisure,” and he and his men departed.
“Well, he was a pleasant fellow,” Rajan remarked. He had affixed himself to Bram’s side again. Seth regained some of his exuberance as he continued to explore the house.
Since ‘at her leisure’ could mean anything from a few hours to a few days, Bram took Seth out and explored the city. Evarran was helping him dress for dinner and Rajan was pointing out some spots of interest he might want to visit when Captain Maive called on him.
“Will you be going about town tonight, Your Highness?”
“Yes, and I’ll be taking Prince Seth with me,” Bram said. “If you wish to relieve your soldiers and take the night off yourself, Seth and I can manage—”
“My Lord,” Maive sighed, her expression one of embarrassment, “I would rather not leave you unattended.”
Evarran never looked up from his ministrations, but Rajan was studying Maive.
“Yes,” Bram said. “We’ll have dinner and if you don’t mind, I’ll take Seth to the theater.”
A brief change in her features told Bram of her relief. “Thank you, Your Highness.”
The moment the captain departed, Rajan commented, “Can we even trust her to perform her duties after bungling so?”
“Would you call Seth to me, Rajan?” Bram didn’t hide the annoyance in his voice.
Rajan sniffed, put out at being ordered about, but did as instructed.
Moments later, as Bram accepted his wallet from Evarran, Seth came bolting into the room.
“Don’t run like that, boy, it’s unseemly for a prince!” Rajan followed behind him.
“Don’t order him about that way,” Bram rounded on him. “He is a prince of the realm. Respect him as you would do me.”
Seth had come to an abrupt halt when Rajan yelled at him and his eyes had gone wide with hurt, but when Bram spoke for him, his face pinched in confusion.
Rajan looked as if he had prepared an insult but changed tactics and said, “My apologies, Highness.” He inclined his head to Seth, who looked questioningly at Bram.
“A good ruler will accept an apology given,” Bram told him. A part of him ached to instruct Seth to enact some mild punishment, but Bram figured he was much too young to have that responsibility. “Besides,” it pained Bram to say so, “Secretary Rajan is correct. A prince does not run about so.” Bram turned to the side, out of Rajan’s view, and winked at Seth. The boy caught the action and understood. Seth pressed his lips together, trying not to smile. The attempt was almost comical.
Seth turned to Rajan. “I accept your apology.”
“Shall we go out?” Bram grinned at the young man.
“Oh, yes!” Seth’s excitement was infectious. It washed over Bram, making him forget his troubles for a little while.
Captain Maive was waiting for them by the front door with two of her soldiers. They saluted and allowed Bram and Seth to go before them.
“Where will we go first?” Seth asked.
“I thought to find a gift for the queen,” Bram said. “Why don’t we visit the crafter’s shop?”
“Can we?” Seth said with such hopefulness that Bram chuckled. Despite being well into his twenties, Bram enjoyed the crafter’s shop as well.
Rajan’s directions to the crafter’s shop were precise. After much ducking and weaving through the crowds, they came upon the shop, set back from the street between a bakery and a wine steward. The crafter’s shop had a green and tended front yard where the owner had set up a playground. When Bram set his young charge on the cobbled walk, he caught the look of longing on Seth’s face. Bram released a breath of distress as much for himself. As a noble, he’d only played with other children closer to his station and that had been as little as he would have liked. How many days had he looked out the window with longing at the servants’ children playing stickball, tag, and hide-and-seek?
Bram took Seth’s hand. “I know, Seth.” The young prince leaned against him as he walked. With the captain and the soldiers both flanking and behind, they drew more attention. The children stopped their play to watch their passing, while the adults bowed or curtsied. Bram wished they wouldn’t.
Inside the shop, there were myriad sounds and motion from the toys, knick-knacks, and baubles. Seth’s eyes got very round as he went to each shelf and tabletop.
A wizened old man leaned over a table, carefully applying paint to an apple-cheeked doll. A young girl, her chestnut-brown hair in two braids, gave Bram a gap-toothed smile.
“Good afternoon, My Lord, is there anything I may help you find?”
“We’re just browsing, thank you.” Bram returned the smile and the girl blushed. “This is a fine shop you have here.”
“Thank you,” she said. “You and the young sir grace it with your presence.”
Now Bram blushed. “Well, I don’t know about that.”
“Perhaps a bauble for a lady friend?” The girl reached beside her, where a glass-enclosed case held miniature dolls. “They are popular, more so than jewelry. We can paint the doll to match the recipient’s features.”
“Really?” Although there was no ‘lady friend’ for him, Bram wondered if the queen would enjoy such a gift presented by Seth. “Is it too much to assume you have some in the queen’s likeness?”
She grinned. “You are fortunate, sir. We have dolls made in the queen’s likeness down to the fine ball gown she wore to the Belian Festival. We also have a dara of your royal father.”
“Dara?”
“A male doll.”
“Oh.” Bram frowned. Something was whispering at the back of his mind just out of his range of hearing. It was like a soft voice humming a familiar tune that he needed to recall.
“Sire, are you feeling well?” the girl asked.
“Your pardon?”
“You’re pale.”
“Do you hear that?”
“Pardon?”
“Music.”
Bram turned left and right, trying to locate the source of the sound. It didn’t occur to him why it should matter so much. Just that he wanted – needed – to know.
Captain Maive had positioned herself at the door. The two guards stood on either side of the room near the open windows.
“Captain, where is that music coming from?”
“Your Highness?”
“That music, it—” In an instant, he forgot the music and everything else. The children within the shop rushed to the door, trying to get out. Parents scolded and pulled, but the nimble bodies squeezed past reaching fingers. All the children gathered there – save one.
Seth was missing.
Chapter Seven
Isbet watched the children halt as one in confusion at the front walk of the crafter’s shop. She had perched her nimble body atop a tether rail and had a clear view to observe the prince. People paid little attention to her. She was yet another performer plying her trade as evidenced when Isbet lifted the flute to her lips once more.
“It is foolish of them to travel without a Gifted one in their group,” Gaemyr commented.
Isbet caught the attention of the group of children. They rushed across the lane, unmindful of the traffic, and gathered before her like an adoring litter of puppies, except for one.
The young Prince Seth stood off to the side. He watched Isbet with mild interest. Making a slight change in the inflection of the notes, Isbet surrounded the young man with her enticing song, making it all for him.
His face and stance didn’t change. He yawned, scratched the side of his nose, then turned away.
Isbet lowered the flute in surprise, to many protesting voices. She stared open-mouthed as Seth walked away.
“Well, isn’t that a damnable thing?” Gaemyr muttered.
Curious, Isbet hopped off the rail and followed, stowing the flute in her shirt.
Seth rounded a corner with Isbet in pursuit. Where did that little urchin think he was going? She knew a scant moment later. Children will be children.
The vendor had his cart between two buildings at the entrance to an alley. Much to her chagrin, Isbet found her own mouth watering at the scent of sweet dough, fried in a vat of grease that she was certain was several summers old. The vendor handed Seth an oily paper sack and Isbet cringed as Seth reached into his jacket pocket and drew out a celestial. As she expected, the vendor’s eyes bulged from his head. The boy had shouted to the rooftops that he was an easy mark.
“Quite a bit o’ coin ya got.” The vendor took the coin, knowing full well it was enough to buy him meals and drink for days, and that it was far too much for one bag of greasy sweet bread. “I’d git yer arse home before ya git knocked.”
“All right.” Seth didn’t understand his meaning.
“Go thataway.” The man motioned to the alley.
Isbet stepped forward. “Seth!”
The boy turned back, his innocent face contorting in confusion.
The vendor stepped in her path. “Mind yer busi—” His eyes traveled up and down her form and took in her clothes and Gaemyr in her grasp. “Oh, shite!”
Isbet made a simple motion. It seemed like nothing to those around her, just a flick of her hand in a dismissive gesture when she took hold of one veil and wrapped it around his face.
“Gods!” he cried, and Isbet didn’t wait for the nightmare he saw to play out. She was at the face of the alley and grasped Seth’s wrist, pulling him back onto the sidewalk as a dagger glinted in the sunlight. Isbet parried the blow with Gaemyr and turned the staff’s face to their assailant. Gaemyr devoured him with little effort.
“Witch!” The others in the alley made their escape.
Isbet watched them go. She wondered if a curse would be worth the trouble; decided it wouldn’t be.
“Miss?”
Seth was looking up at her with wide, frightened eyes. Isbet realized she still had hold of his wrist. She gentled her grasp. A crowd was gathering around the vendor who now sat slumped against the cart spouting terrified gibberish. It would be a long time before he accosted a child or anyone again.
“Come, let’s get you to safety.” With the veils masking their presence, Isbet moved away from the disturbance.
“Was – was that man – did he try to kill me?” Seth asked in a small, frightened voice. Tears pooled in his blue eyes and his lower lip trembled.
Isbet sighed, but refused to honey-coat her words. “Yes,” she said. “Your mistake was showing them the celestial. It made you an easy target. Never show lots of money out in the open. It attracts the wrong attention.”
Seth swallowed but nodded his understanding. “He called you a witch.”
“I am a witch,” Isbet said. “And so are you.”
His face scrunched in a comical expression. “I can’t be a witch. I’m a boy!”
Isbet laughed. “Well, to be fair, the male equivalent is a wizard. You have the Gift, Seth. To be honest, I’m uncertain if you’re a witch or not. You could be many things.”
“I can do magic?”
“Again, I’m not sure, so we need someone to test you.” Isbet realized they had arrived back at the crafter’s store. She also remembered the veils still had them hidden, which provided further proof of Seth’s possession of the Gift. “Perhaps we should go inside, I’m certain—”
“You there!” The voice had Isbet turning. “Don’t move!”
The female guard commander was striding towards them. “You are under arrest.”
“What by the Vine for?”
The guard captain ignored her question. “Your Highness, did this woman take you?”
“Take me? No. She—”
The other two guards were approaching and from the corner of her eye, Isbet caught sight of Prince Bram plunging through the crowd towards her.
“Will you come along peaceably?” The guards flanked her on either side, their swords drawn.
