The First Confessor
He shrugged. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know. I would not tell any of them, and I’m sure they would not tell me. I just wanted you to know that if you do come to see me, you can speak your mind without worry of a dream walker hearing it.”
Magda grinned. “Councilman Sadler, you are a devious man.”
He returned the grin. “How do you think I have managed to live this long? Be well, Magda Searus. And be true to yourself.”
“I will. And please, take good care of yourself. You can never tell when the Midlands may have further need of you.”
As Sadler once again started out across the massive stone bridge, mingling into the crowds, Magda felt a breeze kick up. She glanced to the horizon and noticed a black band of clouds. The hot, humid weather had been a harbinger of approaching storms.
Before passing under the iron fangs of the portcullis, she gazed up at the massive, dark walls and towers of the Keep rising up into the darkening sky. The silent Keep seemed to be waiting for her, waiting to swallow her up.
Magda was alone again. Even though she had only just met him, she missed Merritt being with her. There was something about him unlike anyone she had ever met. It felt easy, natural, being with him.
But now she was alone.
Chapter 58
Magda was just closing the heavy mahogany door to her apartment when she heard footsteps and then a knock. She thought it might be Merritt, even though she knew that it was too soon for him to be back—unless he had been unable to help James. She pulled open the door.
Lothain filled the doorway.
He smiled in that private sort of way he had whenever he looked at her. It was a lecherous look that always made her skin crawl.
After taking a quick appraisal of the room dimly lit by a half-dozen lamps, the man’s black eyes again fixed on her. She could tell by the way he was looking at her that he was having some kind of private thoughts about her, thoughts she was sure she would not like.
Magda wanted to slam the door in his face, but she thought better of it. She had already pushed him to the edge once before. It would be risky to do it again now, when they were alone and he didn’t have to worry about witnesses. The word of the head prosecutor would be taken at face value if she were to end up dead. Enough people already thought she was disloyal to the Midlands that anything he said would likely be believed.
He smoothed a hand over his short, wiry black hair and down the back of his bull neck. His shoulders and arms were as beefy as his neck.
Though he had more formal, dignified clothes that he often wore when conducting official business, such as during trials, this night he was wearing unadorned brown robes, a simple reminder of his high rank as both prosecutor and wizard. Lavish outfits were all too often worn as a pretense of status, since the poor could not afford fine clothes. Plain, modest robes were meant to be a humble reminder that even those of the highest standing were still mortal. More, though, they were a subtle statement to all that they were of such high rank that they didn’t actually need to prove it with stylish attire. Their rank transcended fashion. Those seeking standing would only look silly should they try to mimic that standing with simple robes, since everyone would know they were pretenders. So they were left the middle ground of finery to scrap for standing.
“Good evening, Magda.”
She didn’t like the arrogance of his informality any more than she liked his greasy smile. She stuck to a proper address.
“Prosecutor Lothain.”
His smile widened into a smug grin. “First Wizard Lothain,” he corrected.
She bowed her head slightly with a single nod. “Congratulations. You come into a difficult role with the heavy burden of a terrible war. The people of the Midlands will wish you well with such responsibility, I’m sure, in the hopes that you might guide us safely through these troubled times.”
She wondered if he was to also remain as head prosecutor. That would allow him to retain his private army, but she didn’t want to ask and prolong the conversation.
“Yes, a grim duty and heavy responsibility has been placed upon my shoulders,” he said in an indifferent tone, his gaze wandering beyond her to the apartment within.
It occurred to her that he was checking to make sure that she was alone.
He started to step past her into the apartment, then stopped. “Oh, I’m sorry, Magda. Where are my manners? Here I was, already thinking of the place as mine. Forgive me. May I come in?”
Magda stepped back, opening the door wider. As she did, she noticed his large contingent of personal guards down the hall.
“Of course. It’s your place, now. Or at least it will be once I am able to have my things moved out. I will try not to delay you any longer than necessary.”
She couldn’t seem to make herself call him First Wizard.
“As a matter of fact, I’m here to discuss that very subject with you.”
Magda didn’t give him the satisfaction of asking what he meant. He wasn’t at all a shy man. He liked the sound of his own voice. She knew that he would get around to it in his own good time. He didn’t need her prompting.
He strode into the room, peering about, taking in all the furniture, the gold-fringed draperies, the plush, multicolored carpets, the richly plastered walls, and the layered cornices at the edge of the ceiling. He ran a finger over a sideboard of banded mahogany that was beautifully inlaid with silver stems and leaves. It had been a wedding gift from Baraccus, one of many.
She hadn’t liked the idea of Baraccus getting such opulent furnishings. She didn’t want people to say that he had only been able to win such a beautiful young woman into marriage because as First Wizard he was able to shower her with lavish gifts and provide her with a home like a palace.
He had gotten her the gifts anyway. When people thought what she had feared, he had laughed it off and said that he didn’t care about gossip because he knew better. He had insisted that the place needed the warmth if she was to live there.
Magda had never in her life lived in such splendor. As beautiful as the surroundings were, though, they had never meant all that much to her. In fact, she preferred the small storage room because that was where Baraccus’s workbench was. She had often sat on her throne of an old crate and watched him work.
“Nice,” Lothain said, still looking around. “Very nice. You’ve obviously gone to a great deal of expense and effort adding a woman’s touch to what used to be rather cold quarters.”
“I can’t take credit. It was all Baraccus’s doing.”
He glanced back briefly, looking like he didn’t believe her. He strolled past a wall of books in arched bookcases. “Well, he created quite the comfortable home for you here.”
“It’s not my home. It is the First Wizard’s home.”
She moved to the door, hinting that now that he had seen enough of the place that would soon be his, she expected him to be on his way. She wasn’t going to show him the rest of the apartment. He could see the other rooms once she was gone.
“I really should get to packing my things. The sooner I move out, the sooner you can move in.”
He returned to stand before her. His burly build seemed all the more intimidating standing so close in front of her. She forced herself not to take a step back as she casually moved her hand closer to her knife hidden in the small of her back, beneath her dress. A small slit in the dress provided access to the weapon.
His smile was back as he fixed her in his gaze again. “That isn’t necessary.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” she said.
“Moving out,” he said offhandedly. “It isn’t necessary. You see, I think that it’s time that we came to an arrangement.”
Even though she was truly puzzled at his meaning, she didn’t want to coax him into talking about it. She simply wanted him to leave.
“No arrangement will be necessary. If you will leave me to it, I will pack up my things and move out as quickly as I can so as not to inconvenience you. Y
ou are to be First Wizard, so this place is to be yours as well.”
“No, I mean that we can make an arrangement so that you don’t have to leave.” He gestured briefly around the room. “It’s such a beautiful home. This place really does fit you. I want you to stay.”
“Stay? I don’t need—”
“As my wife.”
Chapter 59
Magda stared, unsure that she had heard what she thought she’d heard.
“What?”
“I have decided that it is socially appropriate for a man of such standing as the First Wizard to have a wife.”
She was beginning to grasp more graphically the nature of the thoughts that had been so evident behind those black eyes.
“What in the world would make you think . . .” She checked herself, rethinking the wisdom of the insult she had been about the make. “What makes you think that I would in any way make an appropriate wife for you?”
His gaze drifted down her curves. “Oh, I think you will do just fine.” When the calculating look finally made it all the way back up to her eyes, his tone turned a bit more serious.
“You see, you have already been the wife to a First Wizard. You know the protocols. You are familiar with the duties. You handled household matters admirably for Baraccus, relieving him of menial tasks, and you will do the same for me.”
“There are maids and such assigned to handle household matters. They come with the apartments. You will do just fine with their help.”
“Be that as it may, there are larger issues at stake. You are a woman who also needs the protection of an important man.”
Magda was getting the distinct feeling that there was a hidden agenda that he was working toward.
“Protection?”
He shrugged. “Of course. Your being the wife of the new First Wizard will bring an end to the questions about your allegiance. It would put to rest the whispers about your apparent loyalty to Lord Rahl over the Midlands. It would help disassociate you from the irregular matters Baraccus was entangled in. It would also bring an end to suspicions about all the strange things you have been up to, lately.”
“Strange things I’ve been up to? What are you talking about?”
“You have been seen sneaking about, trying not to be seen, hiding your face.”
“In other words, you have people spying on me. It so happens that as the former wife to the First Wizard I simply want to avoid undue attention.”
“The fact remains that a virtuous woman, a woman with nothing to hide, would not do such things. It makes people wonder about you, wonder exactly what you may have been up to. Very unsavory behavior for someone of your standing.” He glanced at her short hair. “Or should I say, former standing.”
“If my loyalty to the Midlands and our cause is so suspect, why would you, as First Wizard, want to have a woman like that as a wife? More to the point, you are many things, but you are not stupid. You know what I think of you. Why would you be so interested in protecting my virtue?”
His smile widened. “Your virtue? You think I care about your virtue? I have use of you, that’s all. Saving your reputation, and perhaps your hide, is merely a plum I offer in return.”
“You have use of me? What use could I possibly be to you?”
He glanced back over his shoulder, then returned his gaze to her eyes. “Why don’t you show me the bedroom, Magda, and I will make clear to you one of your many uses to me.”
Magda could feel the blood rush to her face. She worked to control her voice. Yelling at him was not going to get her to the bottom of what this was really all about.
“You’re a powerful man. You can have your pick of most any women. A few of them might even be willing; the rest you can easily afford. You don’t need me for that.”
His grin remained in place. “That may be true, but I would rather have you. The most unobtainable of all flowers is the most desirable, don’t you think? It would prove me the most worthy of any men at the Keep to win the widow of Baraccus as my wife.”
“I wasn’t aware that your self-confidence was so shaky.”
His smile finally departed, leaving a grim expression. “Self-confidence is not my problem; how people perceive me is. You see, having you as my wife would give me credibility as First Wizard. It would put people in mind of Baraccus. It would put us on the same plane. I would be his equal, and as his equal, I would have the same woman at my side.”
Magda gritted her teeth. “You are not the equal of Baraccus.”
He chuckled. “My dear, you will reconsider that after our first night in bed together.”
“Get out,” Magda growled through gritted teeth. She pointed through the open doorway. “Leave.”
His humor vanished as his pinched expression took on a vicious cast. He jabbed a beefy finger against her shoulder.
“Now you listen to me, Magda Searus. You’ve caused a lot of trouble here in the Keep, trouble that has spread down to the city. I don’t know why, but there are a lot of people who believe in you. You got everyone in a fearful uproar with your bloody show before the council session when you put your wild theories about dream walkers out where people could hear them.
“Far worse, though, are your disrespectful and despicable accusations against me. Improbable as it seems, those insulting charges brought by a nobody have caught the attention of many. Those accusations have found support and created divisions within the Keep. They have disgraced and discredited me in the eyes of some. Your allegations have made people less willing to trust me, to follow me.
“We are at war and you have created speculation, divisions, and suspicion when we instead need to be united. Your theories and fanciful notions have shaken people’s trust in the council’s wisdom and especially in my authority. You have undermined faith in me!
“You, Magda Searus, have become a threat to order and therefore to our cause. If you care about the Midlands and the people, as you claim, then you would see that it is your duty to bring peace among them. You are the cause of the dissension and discord, so it is your duty to put an end to it.
“By marrying me, you will put to rest all the absurd theories flying around the Keep, absurd theories started by you. The gossip and speculation will end. You becoming my wife will calm fears and bring suspicion to an end. It will show people that your behavior was only your grief playing tricks on your weak, feminine mind.
“Marrying me will put an end to the whispers, about you, and especially about me. Marrying me will silence the dissent that is brewing. It will restore unity to the people.
“You are going to marry me in order to restore faith in my unquestioned authority, faith you undermined. You are going to do this for the good of the Midlands.
“I am not going—”
“This is not a matter open to debate! It is for the good of our people and you are going to do it!”
He smoothed a hand back over his bull neck and calmed his tone.
“Now, I will give you a chance to think it over. It’s a big step, remarrying, but it will do you good and give you a renewed purpose here at the Keep. I hope that you don’t make it any more difficult for yourself than it needs to be.
“Either way, I can assure you that, in the end, one way or another, you will be married to me and serve me as a good and loyal wife should serve her man and her leader, the First Wizard.”
He leaned close, his teeth clenched, as he jabbed his fat finger into her shoulder over and over, punctuating his words.
“That is the road of life you are going to travel. Don’t make that road any harder than it needs to be.”
Magda ignored the throbbing pain from his finger jabbing her shoulder.
“I told you to get out.”
He flashed her a cold, patronizing smile. “So you see, since you will be marrying me, you will be remaining in your apartment—or I should say, our apartment—surrounded by the luxury to which you are accustomed, living the privileged life of the wife of the First Wizard. Fears
and doubts about the leadership of the Midlands will soon be forgotten when people see you faithfully at my side.”
“I asked you to leave.”
Magda’s heart was hammering so hard with rage she couldn’t think straight.
He gestured. “You will have to let your hair grow out, of course. It’s only fitting for the wife of the First Wizard to have long hair.”
“I told you—”
“Is there a problem, here?”
Magda turned. Merritt filled the doorway.
Chapter 60
Merritt had Lothain fixed in a dangerous glare.
“No, there’s no problem,” Magda said. “Prosecutor Lothain was just leaving. He had a minor issue to ask me about, but as it turns out, I’m afraid that I’m unable to help him with it.”
Lothain stared at her for a moment, as if to say that it was already decided and he would have his way, before letting his icy look move to Merritt.
“What are you doing here, Merritt?”
The two men glared at each other like two stags unexpectedly encountering each other in an open meadow. She knew that she had to do something before one of them decided to.
“I asked him to come,” Magda said into the dangerous silence.
Lothain’s brow twitched as he looked over at her. “You asked him to come? Why?”
Before Merritt could say anything, Magda replied, in an offhand manner, “Baraccus was a maker.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Lothain asked before Magda had a chance to explain.
“Well, when the council told me that they needed the apartments for a new First Wizard,” she went on, “I told them that I would find a new place and move my things out. I’m in the process of packing them up. But I have no use for Baraccus’s old tools. I heard that Merritt is also a maker, so I offered him the tools. They aren’t of any use to me. I thought they not only might be of some use to Merritt, but it would save me the trouble of moving them. Besides, I won’t have the room for them in my new quarters.”