Geraden opened his mouth. “I—” Then he closed it again.
“Young Geraden” – the Tor emphasized each word – “the King does not wish you to understand. I suggest that you return to your quarters and beat your head against the wall until your skull cracks enough to let a little light shine in.”
“Yes, go,” King Joyse muttered at once. “I’m tired of being reminded how little my own people respect their King.”
Sharply, Geraden turned back to the King. Now Terisa saw something wild in his eyes, something extreme enough to be dangerous. Nevertheless his balance had become steady, as if urgency improved his poise. “Actually,” he said, “I should be used to this.” His tone was almost calm. “I was always the youngest. My brothers didn’t have the patience to explain things to me very often.” Almost calm – and almost threatening. “I probably do better when I figure it out for myself.”
Without glancing away from King Joyse, he asked Terisa, “My lady, will you come with me?”
“She will stay here,” King Joyse answered for her. “I want to talk to her.”
So he did want to talk to her. Terisa didn’t know whether to be relieved or concerned. To Geraden, she said, “I’ll see you later,” trying to reassure him. “We’ll think of something.” Then she waited while he made up his mind to leave.
Before he left, he gave her a look like an iron promise – a look that hinted at passion and authority. Then he was gone.
As the door closed, the Tor sighed thickly. He emptied his flagon and settled his bulk more comfortably in the chair as though he intended to take a nap.
Terisa faced King Joyse.
Instinctively, she felt sure she knew why King Joyse wanted to talk to her. And she meant to take advantage of the opportunity. She was angry. Castellan Lebbick had hit her. King Joyse insisted on causing Geraden pain. Master Eremis had been arrested. She was angrier than she had realized.
Her voice shook slightly as she said, “You knew Master Eremis was arrested. Castellan Lebbick has been reporting everything to you.” That seemed a safe deduction. “You knew he was going to arrest me. You let him attack me like that. If the Tor hadn’t stopped him, I would be in a cell by now.
“I seem to recall hearing you argue I might be a powerful Imager – I was like an ambassador – I had to be treated with respect. Do you call this respect?”
As if he intended to answer her, he raised his head. He shifted in his chair to face her squarely. Now there was no petulance or bitterness in his expression. He looked grave with all the seriousness of his years, as intent on her as his watery gaze permitted – and so sorrowful that she was taken aback.
“My lady,” he asked softly, “where is my daughter?”
So she was right. Her pulse beat faster. At last she had something somebody else wanted, something she could use. As long as she didn’t betray Myste, this was her chance.
The prospect frightened her, but she clung to it with both hands. “Which daughter?” she returned despite the tremor in her voice. “You have several.”
She expected indignation and anger – that was what she always expected – but King Joyse remained quiet. His expression didn’t change. For a long moment, he studied her through the moisture in his eyes. Then he indicated the chair across the table from him. “My lady, will you be seated?”
At first she hesitated. Perhaps she would be stronger if she stayed on her feet. But his sadness was as persuasive as his smile.
She went to the chair, pulled it away from the table to dissociate herself from hop-board, and sat down.
When she was seated, he said in the same soft, grieving tone, “My lady, my daughter Myste is gone. Where is she?”
Suddenly, her tongue was so dry that she could hardly swallow. Like a frightened but stubborn child, she asked, “My lord King, why did you let Castellan Lebbick arrest me?”
The room seemed uncomfortably warm. Again, the King’s eyes gave a hint of steel. He held her gaze until she faltered and looked down. Then he breathed almost inaudibly, “My lady, do not play this game with me. It is more dangerous than you imagine.”
For a few seconds while her heart hammered and her stomach knotted, she nearly backed down. She didn’t have the strength to face him. Anybody was stronger than she was. As she had with Saddith, she felt that vulnerability and weakness were her only defense, her only weapon.
But backing down now wouldn’t accomplish anything. The King would still want to know about his daughter. He would still demand answers. If she gave up what she wanted, she wouldn’t make herself safer. And it would be more difficult for her to avoid betraying Myste.
And she was too angry to give up. Deliberately, she raised her eyes to the King’s again. “I don’t have any choice. Geraden tried to take me back where I belong, but that mirror doesn’t seem to work anymore. I have to play.
“Why did you let Castellan Lebbick arrest me?”
Something shifted in the background of King Joyse’s expression, like clouds moving their shadows across a distant landscape. Without any definable change, his attention became sharper and more cautious.
“My lady” – his tone was caustic in an oddly impersonal way, as if he didn’t mean it – “do you know who your friends are?”
She stared at him in surprise and bit her lip and didn’t try to answer.
“Well, I don’t either. Having you arrested would have been a good way to find out. It would have been very interesting to see who tried to help you, or communicate with you, or persuade me to let you go. But of course Geraden interfered. With his usual instinct for disaster. I already knew he was a friend of yours.”
This reply startled her. It drew a different sketch of him – of the way his mind worked – than she was expecting: it seemed to imply that he was paying attention to what happened in Orison. “Wait a minute,” she protested weakly. “Wait a minute. You mean you planned to have me arrested? It was just a ploy?”
“No, my lady.” He waved one sore-knuckled finger at her. “You aren’t playing the game. It’s my turn now. Where is my daughter?”
Terisa drew a sharp breath. For a moment, she considered trying to extort information from him without revealing anything herself. In spite of his age, however, he looked too strong for that tactic. And it wouldn’t be fair. He was Myste’s father.
Carefully, she responded, “She came to see me yesterday afternoon. In my rooms. We talked for a long time.”
He nodded. “I guessed that. But I don’t understand it. What do you have that she wanted? What did she tell you?”
“No, my lord King. It’s my turn now.”
She had so many questions. Too many to remember them all at once. And she didn’t want to waste an opportunity like this on the one she had blurted out a moment earlier. So she concentrated on the issue that had brought her to the King’s suite – on Castellan Lebbick and his behavior.
“When I leave my rooms with someone – with Master Eremis, for example – my guards always want to know where I’m going. But when I leave with Geraden, nobody seems to care. Why is that?”
King Joyse snorted as if she had just made a particularly bad move. In the same caustic, impersonal way, he said, “You should have figured that out for yourself. I already know Geraden is your friend.”
Right. Of course. She really should have figured that out for herself. A sense of panic rose in her. She wasn’t thinking quickly enough.
Impatiently, the King continued, “You were speaking of my daughter, my lady.”
“Yes.” She needed to be smarter. Sharper. She was tempted to turn to the Tor for help. But she could hear him breathing deeply, heavily, as though he were about to snore. Groping for inspiration, she asked, “Can you be more specific?”
“Certainly,” he snapped. “Where is she?”
Fortunately, his tone brought back her anger. All right. If that was the way he wanted to play. “I don’t actually know where she is.” She made an effort to sound sweet. “But you ask
ed what I have that she wanted. There’s an entrance to a secret passage in my wardrobe. She wanted to use it.”
Again, he nodded. Apparently, Terisa was only confirming his own suspicions. “Why?”
Anger was a great help. She was being cruel to him – but only because she had been so badly treated herself. “My lord King,” she said stiffly, “the first night I was here a man tried to kill me. When he was chased away, Castellan Lebbick started a search for him. But you called it off.” Despite her inexperience, she worked to match his tone. “Why?”
For an instant, King Joyse hesitated. The shadows shifted behind his eyes. Then he said trenchantly, “Because I didn’t want him caught.”
“What? Why not?”
I didn’t think he was stupid, so I didn’t think he would lead Lebbick to his allies. And I didn’t think he was a coward, so I didn’t think he would tell me anything if Lebbick caught him. The only way to learn anything about him was to leave him alone and wait for what he did next.” His voice grew harsher, but it still sounded impersonal, as if his ire were calculated rather than real. “Are you satisfied, my lady?
“Why did my daughter want to use a secret passage?”
“Because” – Terisa’s anger made her stronger than she would have believed possible – “she wanted to leave Orison.”
That struck him, hurt him. “Leave Orison?”
“She knew you would stop her if you could, so she used that passage to get down into the laborium. Then she sneaked out through the hole in the wall.”
“Leave Orison?” he repeated. “Why?”
“No.” She clenched her fists to make herself ignore his distress. “Why did you make me play hop-board against Prince Kragen? You did everything you could to force a war. I didn’t enjoy being used like that.”
So suddenly that she had no chance to defend herself, King Joyse surged out of his chair. As if he had never been weak or old in his life, he knotted his hands in the front of her shirt and jerked her to her feet. “This is intolerable! She is my daughter!” His eyes ran as if he were weeping. “Her mother and one of her sisters left me. Her other sister holds me in contempt. Where did she go?”
Terisa should have broken then: she knew that about herself. She should have given up everything and betrayed Myste in simple fear. Her own anger should have evaporated.
But it didn’t.
“Back to her mother,” she retorted. Myste was her friend. “She wanted to be loyal. She wanted to help you. But when you insulted Prince Kragen like that, you broke her heart. She was raised to be the daughter of a king, not some petty tyrant who likes war and can’t be bothered to defend his own people. She—”
Terisa stopped. His anguish stopped her. His sudden strength collapsed. He let go of her shirt. His hands dropped. His eyes squeezed shut, but tears went on spilling past his old eyelids. “If you lie to me—” he rasped far back in his throat. “If you dare lie to me—” It wasn’t a threat: it was a plea. Fumbling behind him, he found the arm of his chair and braced himself on it while he sat down. His robe covered him as if he were lost inside it. “My daughter, what have I done to you?”
“Why did you do it?” Terisa asked so that his pain wouldn’t tear the truth out of her. “Why did you make me play hop-board against Prince Kragen?”
“To test him,” he replied like a man who had no idea what he was saying. “No other reason. How could I trust him? Alend has been Mordant’s enemy for generations. He has a personal grudge against me. If his mission were honorable, he would refuse to play. He would have no reason to brook that insult to the Alend Monarch. But if he intended treachery he would acquiesce because he could not risk my displeasure – risk expulsion from Orison before his work was done.” He covered his face with his hands. “Oh, my daughter.”
So it was true. He knew what he was doing, what was happening around him. The thought seemed to chill her blood. Where had she gotten the idea that it was too warm in this room? She wanted to shiver violently. Ignorance or senility had nothing to do with it.
He was intentionally destroying Mordant.
And yet his distress swept her anger away. She could fear him, but she couldn’t be angry at him. “I’m sorry,” she said, trying to be kind. “I guess this game is a stalemate too.”
Roughly, he pulled down his hands. They shook as he clasped them together in his lap. He didn’t look at her. Quietly and distinctly, he said, “My lady, I suggest that you give the matter more consideration before you once again attempt to end a stalemate by tilting the board.” Then he indicated the door with a twitch of his head, dismissing her.
She turned to leave as if she were fleeing.
The Tor was awake. He watched the King with a look that resembled hunger. As she passed his chair, he gave her a firm nod of approval.
She had already closed the door behind her before it occurred to her to wonder how King Joyse had been able to guess that Myste had come to her for help.
SEVENTEEN: TERISA TAKES ACTION
She had the impression that she was hurrying inside, racing to keep ahead of her emotions, ahead of the consequences and implications of what she was doing. She needed to outrun the lie she had told King Joyse. She had caused him too much pain. Liars surrounded her. Even Master Eremis didn’t trust her with the truth to any remarkable extent. It was possible that the King himself had been lying to her. Falsehood was her only weapon, the only way she could defend herself. She wanted to flee from it.
She had descended two flights of stairs and was about to enter one of the main halls before she realized that she had no idea how to get where she wanted to go.
She tried to swear at herself, but the unaccustomed words lacked conviction. Geraden’s tour hadn’t included the information she needed. She was off to a great start.
She scanned the hall in both directions. It was full of people; she might conceivably ask one of them for directions. But she had no idea how to approach them. What were they all doing here? Floor- and chimney-sweeps, stonemasons, supply porters, chambermaids, scullery maids, seamstresses, even blacksmiths: she understood the servants of the castle. But who were the rest of these men and women, these lords and ladies? Myste had made a point of explaining how much Mordant and Orison depended upon trade. Were these people all involved in commerce and finance? – warehouse managers? goods inspectors? tax collectors? shipment foremen? bookkeepers? supply allocaters? black marketeers? If so, her father would have felt right at home.
Her father, she firmly believed, wouldn’t have hesitated to tell King Joyse any number of lies. She believed this despite the fact that she had never heard him utter an untruth.
Still running inside, she spotted Artagel.
Some distance away, he sauntered across the hall. Judging by his manner, he might have been unaware of her. But a moment after she noticed him – before she had time to raise her hand and wave – he changed course and came toward her.
“My lady.” He gave her an amiable bow. “Have you recovered from your adventures already? If I had a similar experience, I would get into bed and not get out again for several days.”
“Call me Terisa,” she said to dismiss the subject of her recovery. She was in a hurry. What she had in mind was even more uncharacteristic of her than her conversation with King Joyse. If she paused or faltered, it would fall apart; she might never be able to pick up the pieces again. “Where are the dungeons?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “I can’t call you Terisa, my lady. If I do, I’ll be in danger of forgetting that Geraden is my brother. I’m not like Stead— Has Geraden mentioned that we have one brother who is absolutely insatiable for women? But I’m also not immune to beauty. Why in the world do you want to know where the dungeons are?”
Remembering the conversation she had overheard between him and Master Eremis, she hesitated. But she couldn’t afford the luxury of hesitation. “Castellan Lebbick has arrested Master Eremis,” she said, trying to sound like she knew what she was doing. “I need to talk
to him.”
That announcement widened his eyes. She saw him consider and reject a variety of responses in rapid succession – surprise, disapproval, curiosity. When he spoke, he had decided on unruffled amusement. “If Eremis is safely locked up, I don’t think Lebbick will want him to receive social visits.”
He had a good point. Grasping at possibilities that hadn’t crossed her mind until that moment, she said, “But you can get me in. If we don’t ask the Castellan’s permission. If we just go to his cell. The guards will let you in,” she concluded awkwardly, “because of who you are.”
His expression became wary. “Maybe. But you’ll be taking a chance. Even if Lebbick doesn’t catch you, he’ll still be told you were there. I assume there must be some reason why Eremis was arrested. You’ll make yourself look like his accomplice. You’ll make me look like an accomplice. What good is that going to do?”
For a moment, she froze. The matter was too urgent to be explained. King Joyse knew what he was doing. He was doing it on purpose. My daughter, what have I done to you? Master Eremis needed to know that. He couldn’t act or plan accurately unless he knew what he was up against. And he was Mordant’s only hope.
Unfortunately, that also couldn’t be explained – to Artagel even less than to Geraden. The sons of the Domne were too loyal.
Impelled by her sense of haste, she tried another prevarication. “Maybe I’m being naive, but I think what’s really wrong here is that none of the people who want to defend Mordant are willing to talk to each other. The Congery doesn’t trust Geraden. The King doesn’t trust the Congery. Nobody trusts Master Eremis. Castellan Lebbick doesn’t trust anybody. And meanwhile the whole kingdom is going to hell.” She was pleased to hear that she sounded like she knew what she was talking about. “I want to see if I can make people start talking to each other.
“I’ve just had a talk with King Joyse. Now I want to talk to Master Eremis. I think he’s the key to the whole thing.”
Artagel watched her while she spoke, a bemused smile on his lips. When she finished, he shook his head, not in refusal, but in wonder. “You amaze me, my lady. You make it so simple. There must be some reason why it’s never been attempted.” Then his smile broadened into a grin. “It might be fun. It might even work.” Bowing extravagantly, he offered her his arm. “Shall we give it a try?”