William King: Shadowblood

She stayed slumped in the chair, sipping liquor from the flask until eventually, red-eyed from weeping, she fell asleep.

Rik waited behind the curtain in the alcove, hardly daring to breath. He kept very quiet and very still, two things at which he had a lot of practise. Through a slit in the drape he could see the plush leather covered chairs. Asea welcomed High Inquisitor Joran and bade him take a seat. It had not taken long for the High Inquisitor to come calling. He had barely been in Halim a day.

“This is a pleasure, Lord Joran,” Asea said. “It does my heart good to see you here. We shall soon need all the help we can get.”

“It is through the mercy of the Light that I am here. The way was long and beset with peril.”

“We live in troubled times.”

“You speak the truth.” A note of subtle irony sounded in the statement. Joran had a wonderful voice, and he used it with the skill of a virtuoso.

“You must tell me of your journey.”

“Winter is a bad time of the year for travelling- the mountain passes were closed. It was deemed inadvisable to sail through Harven so that meant landing at Westport and overlanding it. After that snow, bandits, poor food, abominable roads. I will not bore you with the sordid details.”

“You could not bore me.”

“I have read your letters to the Queen with great interest. It is one of the reasons I am here. Queen Arielle has asked me to look into the matters you refer to.”

I have read your letters to the Queen. There was an assurance of power, of familiarity with the monarch, a hint of confidences betrayed, of a grasp of the upper echelons of power in Joran’s voice. Rik was unsure as to why the Inquisitor had taken that line. He was as out of his depths here as a Terrarch would be in the rookeries of Sorrow.

“I am glad she takes you into her confidence as well. It reassures me that one so wise should have her ear.” Asea’s voice too held hints of other things. She had been the Queen’s confidante for much longer than Joran, or so she implied.

“You flatter me, Asea, although my vanity welcomes your words.”

Asea’s tone changed. Bonhomie evaporated. There was a clipped menace to her delivery. “Since you are privy to my private correspondence with Arielle, you know that I fear someone seeks to open a Gate to Al’Terra.”

Joran’s reply was as easy as his previous statements. “It is one reason why I am here. That is a matter of the utmost gravity…if a Gate has been opened then it heralds the end of the world as we know it.”

“And yet you said the Gate is only one of the reasons you are here.”

“You are correct. Her majesty is very disturbed by rumours concerning the death of her cousin, Queen Kathea. It almost beggars belief that Lord Malkior was the killer. He was a Terrarch of the old blood, one of the First. Hardly an assassin.”

“I believe we can be frank with each other, Inquisitor Joran. Lord Malkior was a follower of the Shadow.”

Rik suppressed a shudder. That information was not something he wanted revealed to the Inquisition. It might lead to questions about his own heritage.

“You are asking me to believe that one of the First, a high noble of the Terrarchy was a servant of the Princes of Shadow?” Joran’s tone was good-humoured but Rik heard the subtle mockery in it. He wondered whether it was real, or merely intended to goad Asea into saying more. He had known thief takers who used similar such techniques. Her response was dry.

“It has happened before.”

“On Al’Terra.”

“Your order has accused others of being followers of Shadow on this world.”

“Indeed it has. I suspect a lot of those charges with trumped up for political reasons.”

“You seem remarkably cynical about such things for an Inquisitor.”

Joran sighed. “I have been a seeker after truth for a very long time, Milady. You and I are both aware of how these things work. Times were bad during the Conquest. Questionable things were done during the Schism as well.”

“You are saying you do not believe me?”

“That I did not say. I am merely saying it’s a disturbing thing to hear talk of things emerging from our darkest legends to walk in the light of day.”

“Such things have happened before.”

“I would prefer to believe, as some of my generation do, that the Shadow is a mere metaphor for the darkness in our souls.”

“You were not born on Al’Terra. You did not see the wars we fought.”

“I lack that privilege.”

“You may not lack it for long. If the Gate is opened.”

“As you have said, we can be frank with each other. One reason I am here is to find out if there was any reason for you spreading these disturbing tales, if you hoped to gain something from telling these things to the Queen.”

“What could I have to gain from it?”

“From our invading Sardea? Your animosity towards the Queen-Empress is well known.”

“As is Queen Arielle’s.”

“The fate of nations is rarely decided by one person’s likes or dislikes; rational calculations of self interest usually intervene.”

“One would like to believe so. I have seen it otherwise.”

“In your letter you hinted that you knew who killed Her Majesty’s mother.”

“Malkior did that.”

“Many people suspected your hand in that.”

A flat silence descended on the room. Joran was only saying what many people thought, but Rik guessed very few people had ever said it to her face. After a beat the Inquisitor continued. “It certainly lets you off the hook if it’s true.”

Asea did not reply and Joran was the first to break the silence that ensued.

“I am merely reporting what has been said. What happened to Malkior? I have heard rumours of his body being cut up and buried in separate pieces.”

Joran had certainly acquired a lot of information in the short time he was here. It might be a good idea to find out who the Inquisitor had talked with since his arrival. There were informers everywhere.

“Hanging, drawing and quartering is the usual fate of regicides.”

“But according to what you told the Queen, Malkior was already dead.”

“That does not alter the penalty.”

“True, and it would prevent any unfortunate attempts at resurrection or reanimation. I understand it was your acquaintance, the half-breed Rik who killed him.”

“Along with the Palace guard.”

“I would like to talk to the youth.”

“I am sure that can be arranged.”

“Let us hope so. I am keen to hear his side of the story. I have not summoned him yet for he is under your protection and I wanted to discuss matters with you first.”

“I appreciate that.”

“I would like to talk with him- soon.”

“You shall. He has nothing to hide.”

“We all have something to hide.”

“That statement includes yourself, Inquisitor.”

“As a member of the Inquisition I have a special dispensation for my sins. They are committed in the service of church and state. This is very fine wine by the way.”

“It comes from my cellar in Redtower.”

“I understand you have petitioned the Queen to be allowed to adopt this Rik into your House.”

Although she had told Rik she had done this, the Inquisitor’s words confirmed it. He felt a thrill pass through him. In this, as in other things, she appeared to be keeping her word.

“I trust the Queen has approved.”

“It is a most unusual request. He is a half-breed.”

“That is the case, but he is as gifted as many full Terrarchs. He has more raw talent for sorcery than anyone I have ever encountered, and it would be a dangerous thing to leave him untutored.”