Robert Redick - The River of Shadows

“What things, Saturyk?” asked Myett.

“Oh, just things. She was very dedicated to her training. And her trainer.”

“A pity that you never arrived at a wedding date,” said Taliktrum.

The Pachet Ghali looked at Taliktrum. His face paled, as though some motive or tactic had just become clear to him. Seeking no one’s permission, he rose and left the room.

Myett stared at the door, clearly shocked by her grandfather’s act. But Saturyk was smiling wickedly. “Oh, they set a date, m’lord,” he said. “A number of them, in fact. Somehow the happy day kept getting postponed. Don’t recall the reason.”

“Saturyk, really,” said Taliktrum with mock severity. “As if such private matters needed to be explained. But let us return to that dinner, Ensyl. Would you like to know what else your future mistress had to say about you?”

“No,” said Ensyl.

“Timid, but beautiful. That was how she put it. When I watched her balance on one hand she took my breath away. My father mentioned the childish joy you took in pleasing her. Later, when we had all drunk some wine, Dri spoke of you again: If Nytikyn has lost his head over her, I understand it. You can see at a glance she’s a heartbreaker. The quiet ones so often are. That, of course, brought smiles from everyone. But my aunt said, I would do better to reject her as a student. She is too fond of me, and one’s sophister must never be distracted by-Here now, girl, is something wrong?”

Ensyl’s eyes were streaming. He had done it, the monster, he had torn it out of her and held it up for the others to gawk at. She held her ground, enduring it. She would not run from the chamber like the girl they kept calling her. Let them see these tears. Oh, Diadrelu. A time would come.

Saturyk flicked his chin in her direction. “There’s the flaw at the heart of this clan,” he declared. “Selfish obsession. My needs, my wants. Never ours. The ones your aunt recruited are the worst, m’lord.”

The men went on studying her, cold as doctors facing an autopsy. Myett, however, looked oddly moved by Ensyl’s suffering. Her grandfather’s departure had left her frightened by the whole affair. “The clan could have helped you, Ensyl,” she said. “The clan heals its own, no matter what ails them, but how can it do so unless you tell us? It was your duty to tell us.”

Suddenly Taliktrum swept forward and seized Ensyl’s arm, dragging her to the far side of the chamber. To her surprise he wore no look of triumph. He knew exactly what he was doing, but a part of him was deeply ashamed.

“What if it went further?” he said. “What if Dri took it much further, for her own delight? The clan already has proof that she had strange appetites. What if they knew that she had turned an adoring young student into an instrument of pleasure?”

A madman, thought Ensyl, looking at his sweaty chin.

“You care very much how Dri is remembered,” he said. “That’s why you’ve fought me at every turn. You have to stop that. I’m the commander and you can’t do anything about it, no one can. Not even me.”

“What in Pitfire,” Ensyl managed to say, “do you want?”

“You switched the pills,” he said. “We both know it, Ensyl. Because Ludunte isn’t the only one with a key to the strongbox. Every clan leader carries a spare.” He put a hand inside his shirt and drew out a brass key on a leather cord. “Diadrelu carried one identical to this. You used it, didn’t you? You were trying in some twisted way to follow her example. Trust the giants. Embrace them, and in time they’ll return that embrace. Confess, Ensyl, and I swear on the Great Mother I’ll restore her good name.”

For a moment Ensyl could not even breathe. There was the choice. Lie for Diadrelu, play the part of traitor, give Taliktrum someone to blame for the fiasco. Or refuse, and let Taliktrum cast another stone at Dri’s memory, turn her into a predator, a corrupter of the young.

“You won’t do it, will you?” said Taliktrum suddenly. “You won’t confess, I can see it in your eyes. It’s the right thing to do, but never mind, you’ll be obstinate, you’ll fight me as she did, no matter the cost. Because you loved her. Because you’re keeping the faith.”

“Yes,” said Ensyl, “I’m keeping the faith.”

“I did not kill my aunt,” he said, the words spilling out now like something beyond his control. “Steldak did it, he jerked the spear through her windpipe, I gave no such order, there was still time to talk. A waste-I can say that now. She had fine qualities, I know that better than anyone, better than some heartsick girl. Her intuition, for example. She knew I loved music, wanted to be a musician, once, before my true responsibilities, she taught me to swim, also to bend my voice-never mind that-are you going to confess?”

Ensyl stared at him in horror.

“Speak up!” he said.

“What happened to you?” was all she could say.

“Me? Me?” Suddenly Taliktrum was screaming in her face. “Saturyk, take her out of here. She will tell the truth or face the judgment of the clan. We had to stop that woman, Ensyl. Can’t you see how wretched she was inside? Wretched, miserable! Even before we caught her she was destroying herself. We had to act before she doomed us all.”

When the girl was gone Taliktrum threw himself into a chair. Myett came up behind him and began to work his shoulders. He covered his face with his hands.

“She could well be the one,” he said. “She hates us, hates our leadership.”

“She is twisted and jealous,” said Myett. “If Hercol is found dead in his cabin some morning, we’ll know who cut his throat.”

“No,” said Taliktrum, through trembling fingers. “They’re allies, that girl and the swordsman. I’ve seen how they talk. We must move to denounce her. We have evidence of her treason already.”

Saturyk frowned. “It’s a trifle risky, Lord. Oh, the clan would likely endorse your decision. But later, when they’re not so afraid, the questions could get awkward.”

“Then keep them afraid,” said Myett, rubbing harder in her fright, trying to make Taliktrum look up at her. “Ensyl has earned death; there are other ways to deliver it than clan execution. Let her disappear. Two or three of your Dawn Soldiers could do the job.”

“Take your hands from me,” said Taliktrum. As Myett recoiled, wounded, he added, “Carry on, Saturyk. What awkward questions?”

Saturyk crossed his powerful arms. “In point of fact, Ensyl was within her rights to stand by her mistress, even against your orders. She may not be certain of that herself, but the House Elders know the law perfectly well-and they know, by the same token, that Ludunte is the oath-breaker, not Ensyl. He vowed to serve the Lady Diadrelu in all things, until released by her consent, or by the will of the clan in full council. Not even a clan leader may sever that bond.”

“But a prophet might,” said a voice from behind him.

It was Lord Talag. The others started; he had come down from his high seat without assistance, and now stood straight and proud in the doorway. Maimed by Sniraga, then held for weeks by the rat-king, Master Mugstur, he had suffered unimaginable abuses. Few had thought that he would live to see the far side of the Nelluroq, let alone the fabled shores of Stath Balfyr, the beloved Sanctuary he had lived for. But Talag was growing stronger all the time. Clan rumor held that he was in constant pain, but there was little sign of it about his person.

“I would speak to my son alone,” he said, moving to a seat at the table.

Myett and Saturyk left the chamber, the young woman trailing a hand up Taliktrum’s arm as she went. When the door closed behind them, Taliktrum rose and poured his father a tall glass of wine.