The soldiers were almost upon them, some reaching out to take hold of the horses’ reins. Then thunder crashed through the summer afternoon.
Beneath clear skies, a storm billowed out from the direction of the service yard: sound and smoke and power. Horses screamed and reared and men fell to their knees on the shaking ground. Steam came in a swelling cloud and filled the yard in seconds. It stank of burning meat and soap.
Garante reached out and grabbed hold of Rav’s pony’s bridle. Rav kicked the animal furiously and, with its ears laid flat against its head, the pony leapt forward. Both animals clattered out of the yard, heading towards the palace gates. Rav was terrified, sure they would never make their escape. There would be more guards on the gates. But the damp cloud that had erupted from the laundry still seethed around them in a concealing fog. It was as if it were following them. Rav could see shapes within it: people running around shouting, and other, more sinuous, slowly-moving forms that made no sound at all. Another explosion shook the palace and nearby some windows shattered. Rav cried out in alarm. He could see the dragon daughters running along beside his pony, laughing madly. This was their doing.
Then the looming arch of the main gates appeared out of the fog and the horses galloped beneath it. Below, the city baked in clear daylight. The horses galloped so fast it was as if their hooves were winged, as if the dragon daughters had taken possession of their pumping muscles. The sound of shouting and the soft thumps of minor explosions died away as Rav and Garante were swallowed up by the labyrinthine streets of the city. There was still some way to go before the walls were reached, but Rav knew that no one would stop them now. The dragon daughters would not allow it. They would guide him home.
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Escape of the Sorceress
Tayven forced all thoughts of Rav from his mind as he headed back towards the heart of the palace. He must remain focused now. He walked along the endless corridors, where banners hung motionless in the still air, listening to his inner voice, hoping to divine exactly where Sinaclara was confined. He could not waste time on a search of the underworld. It could be that he was too late, and Sinaclara had already been moved to a more conventional prison, depending on whether Maycarpe had revealed her existence or not. Also, the Fire Chamber had undoubtedly already summoned Tayven to appear before it, which meant that guards would be searching for him.
With this thought in mind, Tayven hurried to the nearest doorway to the underworld. Over the weeks, Tatrini had revealed a few of them to him. She had come to trust him. Tayven did not underestimate her. Already, she might have guessed what he would do. The door he was accustomed to using lay close to his own rooms. As so many of them were, it was hidden behind a tapestry and required the turning of a carved vine in the wooden panelling to open it. Once the door was closed behind, Tayven leaned on it for a moment. The air in the cramped corridor beyond was musty and hot, heavy with the secret intentions of generations of Malagashes. Tayven felt that if he opened himself up to psychic impressions now, he would be buffeted by a hurricane of whispers, both malevolent and desperate. Dismissing this uncomfortable thought, he lit one of the torches provided and made his way to the lower areas. The palace was like a honeycomb, hollowed out with secret thoroughfares. It was as if two buildings occupied the same time and space.
Tayven tried many doors. Some were locked, but clearly hadn’t been opened for years as their locks had rusted into a shapeless mass. Others were open, but empty of anything except for dank atmosphere. He returned to the chamber he had occupied in one of the better-kept areas, and had to suppress a shudder at the threshold. The light of his torch threw grotesque shadows over the meagre furniture of table, chair and bed. There appeared to be dark shapes writhing on the musty coverlet. Quickly, he withdrew and closed the door. As he did so, he heard a sigh, as if it had been uttered just behind him. He turned, saw nothing but the wide, swept passage-way, the shadowed vaults of its low ceiling, the heavy door opposite. Then he heard another sound, a voice speaking quickly, urgently. He stared at the door across the way for a moment, then went to open it.
Inside, it was very much like his own erstwhile quarters, with bare plastered walls and scant, rough furniture. A tall candelabrum stood on the table and the light of five candles filled the room, which smelled of mice and damp. The Grand Queen Mother sat at the small square table, while Sinaclara was slumped on the edge of the bed, her head hanging low, her hands between her knees. Tayven had the impression that she’d been arguing for hours and weariness had overtaken her. This environment would be like poison to the soul of a woman who was accustomed to living in the Forest of Bree.
Tatrini looked up. ‘Tayven! What are you doing here?’
Sinaclara also raised her head. Her eyes looked glazed, and there was no sign of recognition within their gaze. Tatrini had no doubt been administering her potions again.
Tayven regarded the Queen Mother for a moment. Despite their differences, he had respect for Tatrini. She was not just a survivor but also a warrior, fighting a way for herself in a very difficult world. She had been honest with him, taken him to a small degree into her confidence. Tatrini was no fool, but she had come to trust him. Perhaps he should not be surprised. From a young age, it had been his task to win the confidence of the great and powerful – usually for the benefit of other great and powerful people. Now, he was acting for himself. He placed his torch into a sconce just outside the door and stepped over the threshold. ‘I have spoken with Almorante,’ he said.
‘Ah,’ said Tatrini. ‘In that case, you must know what transpired this morning.’
‘Yes. News of these events changes everything.’
‘Naturally. We must seize the moment in whatever way we can.’
‘Indeed,’ said Tayven. ‘It is why I am here for Lady Sinaclara.’
Tatrini frowned. ‘Does this mean the Fire Chamber know of her existence already? I had hoped we’d be able to keep it quiet, move her to Cawmonel. Have you been interviewed, Tayven?’
‘No,’ Tayven said. ‘This has nothing to do with anyone else. I mean to take Sinaclara away from Magrast.’
Tatrini uttered a small laugh. ‘Excuse me? What are you talking about? Who sent you? Almorante?’
‘Nobody sent me,’ Tayven said. ‘It is too dangerous for Sinaclara to remain here. She shouldn’t be here in the first place.’
Tatrini straightened her spine and carefully rested one elbow on the table. ‘And what is this to do with you? You haven’t shown much interest in the lady’s welfare up to now.’
‘She has been dragged into this. It was my fault, because of what I revealed to you. Now, I must repair the damage.’
Tatrini smiled wryly. ‘Tayven, must I remind you that you are in my employ? I do not wish Sinaclara to leave, for there are many things she has yet to tell me. It may well be your responsibility she is here, but you should not feel guilty about it. I suggest you and I now sit down somewhere together to discuss how you should respond to the Fire Chamber’s questions. Remember, there is still an allegation hanging over you concerning your activities in Cos. It would be most inconvenient should the Fire Chamber panic and decide you should be incarcerated – or worse.’
‘I don’t intend to endure any interviews,’ Tayven said. ‘I am leaving.’
Tatrini stared at him. ‘You can’t. Don’t be a fool. My protection is worth more to you than anything else. If you flee now, people will draw their own conclusions and I’ll be unable to change them.’
‘I’ve played my part here,’ Tayven said. ‘I’ve given you many things you wanted. Let me go without conflict or trying to restrain me. In any event, the outcome will be the same.’
Sinaclara appeared to have come to her senses a little. ‘Tayven?’ she murmured.
Tayven closed the door behind him and went to the bed, where he helped Sinaclara to stand. She leaned against him, feeling slight and weightless in his arms.
‘You can’t do this,’ Tatrini
said. ‘How far do you honestly think you’ll get? Or do you propose to inflict harm upon me?’ The idea clearly amused her.
Tayven did not answer her questions. In an instant, Tatrini was on her feet and hurrying for the door. Tayven was forced to drop Sinaclara on the bed and hurl himself on the fleeing woman. They both fell heavily against the door. Tatrini snarled in Tayven’s face, her arms pinned to her side. ‘How dare you lay hands upon me! You will die for it!’
‘You leave me no choice!’ Tayven said, hauling Tatrini upright, while still restraining her arms.
Tatrini shook her head, as if in disbelief. ‘You are ungrateful, Tayven, and duplicitous. Tell me now and I will never mention what just happened again: has Almorante sent you here? You mustn’t listen to him. Didn’t obeying his orders in the past lead you only to pain and ruin? I need to know what he’s planning. You must tell me!’
‘Almorante has nothing to do with this,’ Tayven said. He released Tatrini’s arms and without pause she threw a punch into his face that conjured stars. He caught hold of her again before she could open the door, shook his head to clear it and drops of blood flew from his nose onto Tatrini’s bodice. ‘You have what you want,’ he said, blinking away hectic spots of light. ‘It may even be what is meant to be. I don’t know. I only know I have to get Sinaclara away from here. I can do nothing more for you.’
‘Where do you intend to go?’ Tatrini asked. ‘Whose side are you on?’
‘The right side!’ Sinaclara cried. Before Tayven realised what was happening, she lunged across the room and hit Tatrini over the head with the candelabrum. Candles rolled across the floor and the chamber was plunged into darkness. Tatrini slumped heavily against Tayven’s body, so that he fell back against the door.
‘By Madragore!’ he cried.
In the darkness, Sinaclara managed to claw and shove Tayven and Tatrini away from the door and wrenched it open. She stood at the threshold, hunched and shuddering in the light of the torch outside, her eyes wild and unfocused. How she’d found the strength to attack the Grand Queen Mother, Tayven could not guess.
‘Come on,’ she said, swaying and gripping the door frame for support. ‘We must go.’
Tayven carried Tatrini to the bed, where he laid her down and felt for her pulse. ‘I hope to all the gods you have not killed her,’ he said.
‘Why do you care about her?’ Sinaclara snapped. ‘You know what she is.’
‘I do,’ Tayven said. He was reassured to discover Tatrini was breathing. He covered her with a blanket and then went to pick up the candelabrum and candles.
‘What are you doing?’ Sinaclara asked. ‘We must leave. Her cronies are always hanging around this place.’
‘If she wakes in darkness, she might be afraid,’ Tayven said.
Sinaclara expressed a snort.
‘You seem far from the gentle lady of magic I met in Breeland,’ Tayven said. ‘Is this common behaviour for you?’
‘I do what is necessary in every situation,’ Sinaclara answered. ‘You are mistaken if you believe me to be only a philosophising ascetic. Neither did Tatrini’s potions influence me as much as she thought. I was able to keep a part of my conscious mind in total clarity. I was biding my time, and it was clear to me I needed to take action.’
‘The situation was under control. We could have got away without harming her.’
‘Now you seem far from the conniving assassin of your reputation,’ Sinaclara said. ‘Just what are you, Tayven? I’d come to believe you were firmly in the Malagash camp.’
‘I will explain my actions in due course,’ Tayven said. ‘All you need to know is that I want to get to Valraven Palindrake, as do you. We are on the same side, despite appearances or assumptions you have made. We have both learned something about each other, but there is no time for thoughtful reflection.’ He put the candelabrum back on the table and arranged the candles within it.
‘Let’s go, then,’ Sinaclara said.
Tayven brushed past her to fetch the torch.
‘You are an enigma,’ she said, folding her arms. ‘Is this the man who professed to detest all Malagashes? You have blood all over your face. She might have broken your beautiful nose. Leave her be, Tayven. I am quite sure that woman is never afraid of the dark.’
Tayven lit the candles. Tatrini looked so vulnerable on the bed. It seemed somehow obscene that such a vibrant force could be knocked out so easily. Still, Sinaclara was right. There was nothing to be gained from lingering here except discovery.
He went to the door and took Sinaclara’s arm, for she appeared to be in severe need of physical support. ‘We must get the Crown,’ she said. ‘Do you know where it is?’
‘There’s no time,’ Tayven said, glancing up and down the corridor. ‘I need to think of the safest escape route. It would help if it was dark outside, but the sun’s not due to set for some hours. We can’t wait that long.’
Sinaclara pulled against his arm, refusing to move. ‘I’m not leaving without the Crown. We have to have it.’
‘No,’ Tayven said. ‘We can’t. Madness is about to break loose here. I’m sure of it. Our only hope now is to go to Palindrake and trust he’s prepared to take up the sword for his followers. I’ve already managed to get the Dragon Lord’s son out of Magrast, or at least I hope I have. Our first priority is to leave the city and follow Rav to Caradore. Isn’t that what you want – to go to Palindrake and swear allegiance to him?’
Sinaclara ignored the slightly sarcastic tone of his remark. ‘Tayven, you know what the Crown represents. I am its guardian. I can’t leave it in enemy hands. If the situation is about to explode, we need the Crown. Valraven Palindrake needs it.’
‘And if he’s meant to have it, fate will take care of it,’ Tayven said. ‘I don’t know where it is, but you can be sure Tatrini will have hidden it well. Neither you nor I can go poking about the palace at will. The Fire Chamber has no doubt already issued orders to apprehend me. We’ll be no use to anyone incarcerated in a dungeon here – or dead.’
‘Then where will we go?’
Tayven paused, trying to clear his head to listen to his instincts. His nose had begun to throb now and the pain was distracting. ‘Down,’ he said after a few moments. ‘The Malagashes must have had secret exits from the palace incorporated into this underworld. We must use our inner sight to find one of them.’
‘Despite what you just saw me do, my inner sight is a fog,’ Sinaclara said bitterly. ‘Your lady friend made sure of that.’
‘Then I will do it,’ Tayven said. He pointed to the left. ‘This way.’
As they set off, the earth suddenly shook beneath them and the sound of an explosion echoed overhead. ‘What in Foy’s name was that?’ Sinaclara said, steadying herself against the wall. ‘Is the palace under attack?’
‘I doubt it,’ Tayven replied. ‘But whatever it was, I don’t want to linger here and discover the cause. We must hurry.’
Tatrini opened her eyes to see the concerned face of Lady Pimalder hanging over her. Just behind she caught sight of the more sinister countenance of Master Dark. She uttered a cry and tried to rise but was thrown back to the bed by a thump of pain in her head.
‘Lie still, your grace,’ Lady Pimalder said. ‘Your physician is on his way. Once he’s examined you, we’ll take you back to your apartments, away from this dank place.’
Tatrini dragged her hands over her face, expelled a moan.
‘Who did this?’ Lady Pimalder asked.
‘The woman, Sinaclara,’ Tatrini answered.
‘How? How did she overpower you? I gave her the strongest philtre.’
‘She is no ordinary female,’ Tatrini said. ‘We underestimated her. She has a powerful will and is stronger than we thought.’
Lady Pimalder turned to Master Dark. ‘The guards must be ordered to search for the prisoner at once.’
‘I have already seen to it,’ Dark said, ‘before I came for you.’
r /> ‘She will be found,’ Lady Pimalder said, taking Tatrini’s hands in her own. ‘You can be sure of it, your grace. She’ll hang on the walls for this.’ She placed a soothing hand on Tatrini’s brow. ‘Rest now. All will be well.’
Tatrini swallowed with difficulty and closed her eyes. She should tell them about Tayven’s involvement, his betrayal, but something held her tongue. She felt like weeping.
The physician, Doctor Bugleharp arrived some minutes later. He diagnosed a mild concussion. ‘You were lucky, your grace’ he said to Tatrini, ‘and, if you will forgive my importunity, should think twice about interviewing prisoners alone again.’ He turned to Lady Pimalder. ‘Who was the person who did this, anyway?’
‘A sorceress,’ Lady Pimalder said. ‘She was working against certain people at court. It is not a state matter.’
‘You must speak of this to no one,’ Tatrini said. ‘Give me your solemn oath.’
The physician smiled. ‘Have I ever abused your trust, your grace? Fear not. I have a very short memory.’
In the early evening, Prince Bayard came to his mother’s bedchamber, where Tatrini was propped up on her pillows, being read to by Lady Pimalder. Doctor Bugleharp’s effective analgesics had calmed her headache and left her in a calm, dreamy state of mind. Bayard was like an angry buzzing presence in the room, and he had yet to speak.
Tatrini waited until Lady Pimalder had left the room before speaking herself. ‘What is it, my son? You look distressed.’
Bayard stood over the bed, his body taut and tense. ‘Mother, what has happened today? Dark intimated to me that you’d been attacked.’
‘That is true. I was careless. Lady Sinaclara took it upon herself to assault me with a candelabrum and then escaped. She will be hiding beneath the palace and will soon be found. It is of no great consequence.’
Bayard sat on the bed. ‘It is of very great consequence. I can’t believe that you – the empress – can be so sanguine about it.’