Carol Berg - THE SOUL WEAVER

“Yes, you have every reason to despise the man. But you must hear me out.” She motioned me to sit beside her. “Maceron brought us a list of more than three hundred disappearances from all corners of the kingdom. Tales of disturbing dreams, fantastical visions of roads or doorways or impossible landscapes, almost every one of them including mention of three odd strangers with mysterious powers. Magical powers. These sorcerers were said to be most bizarre in their aspect: one of them huge with a beast-like hide, one black and emaciated like a creature of charred bones, one a dwarfish man with only one eye, crude in his speech and action. They were blamed for thievery, for tormenting of beasts, and for every manner of mischief and ruination. Strangely enough, almost every person who had disappeared was also deformed in some way, lame or blind or otherwise afflicted.”

The queen’s hands rested quietly in her lap, pale against the dark blue folds of her cloak as she posed her query. “One would never have believed such a history. Yet identical descriptions of the three villains originated from every region, from people who had never left their villages and from people who had traveled widely and were little amazed at any oddity. And the ruffians had been seen in places hundreds of leagues apart on exactly the same day! Though we hold no admiration for this Maceron - indeed he is a repulsive villain - his evidence is compelling. So, tell me, Seriana, are these beings from the other world? If not, then who are they?”

I shook my head slowly, my thoughts in a jumble. “This cannot be an invasion from Gondai, Your Majesty. As I told the king, though the skills and talents of Dar’Nethi differ from ours, their appearance does not. They are not monsters, but human creatures fair or plain as the case may be. Even the Zhid are but Dar’Nethi who have been wickedly enchanted. The works of the Lords of Zhev’Na in our world are far more subtle and terrible than these nursery frights.”

I believed what I said, but her description of the three odd thieves had shaken me with echoes of another story. A bent man, no taller than your waist… a one-eyed jongler… And the storyteller’s son had been born with only one hand. So, had the storyteller heard the tales of monsters and adopted it to explain his son’s disappearance or was there something of truth in the old man’s account? In the past, some of Karon’s ancestors, exiled in this world, had used illusions of monsters to impose their will upon the people of the Four Realms. Anxiety needled my spine like a kitten’s claws.

The queen held her tongue, and her gaze did not waver.

No, no, no. Except for the very few like Kellea and Gerick, the Exiles - those Dar’Nethi who, like Karon’s family, had lived in this world for centuries - were all dead, hunted to extermination, burned and forgotten by men like Maceron and Evard. My blood surged hot.

“These events you describe are beyond the capacities of either Dar’Nethi or Zhid, Your Majesty. Only the Prince of Avonar can cross between the two worlds at will, and he is certainly not abducting lame or deformed Leirans. I’m sorry, I’m unable to explain your mystery.”

The queen touched my hand. Her pale fingers were freezing. “Then you must investigate the case for us. My husband trusts no one but you in these matters. The kingdom is in the most terrible danger.”

I snatched my hand away. “Excuse my boldness, madam, but I’ve heard nothing to justify such a claim. These incidents are tragedies, yes. Crimes, yes, and mysteries, certainly. But since when has the disappearance of healthy citizens concerned King Evard, much less these pitiful creatures you name? If crimes are being committed, then look, not to sorcerers, but to Maceron and his kind, these vermin that your husband has nurtured.”

“The danger is unquestionable!” The queen jumped to her feet and crossed the bridge to stand gripping the broken remnant of a sculpted naiad that had once marked the apex of the span. “The very circumstance that has brought me here tonight in my husband’s stead is but another confirmation of it.”

She folded her arms tightly across her breast and faced me again, her back to the broken statue. “Last evening, I left the King of Leire in his bedchamber with two valets, preparing for a feast to celebrate our daughter’s birthday. When he failed to meet me as we had planned, I went back to fetch him. Though the guards swore that the king had not left his room as yet, my knock went unanswered. I returned to the feast and made excuses to our guests. But then my daughter left the feast abruptly… and soon sent word for me to join her in the king’s apartments.

“Evard sat on his bed, his garments immaculate, no evidence of injury. But he was not, and is not, himself.” She stared at me unblinking, her huge eyes demanding I believe her, insisting I answer her charge. “My husband is mute, Seriana. He is deaf, perhaps blind. I cannot tell. He says nothing, responds to nothing. Our physician, the finest in the realm, cannot tell me what ails him. I had the valets and guards questioned - seriously questioned - and I am convinced that the king was himself when the valets left him and that no one entered his apartments. Every door and window was locked from the inside. What can this be but sorcery?”

“My lady - ”

“No one knows of his condition save his physician, one servant, two of our most trusted counselors… and my daughter, of course. With their help, I’ve deceived even the Council of Lords. Everyone believes my husband merely incommoded with business. But you can understand how difficult it will be to keep up this masquerade for long. And you can imagine the results if the truth becomes known.”

Evard and his queen had produced only a single daughter to inherit the Leiran throne. Though Leiran nobles would never tolerate being ruled by a woman, the promise of a royal betrothal would have given Evard a stranglehold on every nobleman who was unmarried or had an unmarried son, nephew, or cousin. But with the girl yet unpledged, and Evard incapacitated…

She pressed harder. “I know of your past and the part my husband played in it. I do not excuse his actions. But I also know Evard would trust you with our lives and those of our subjects. You must leave behind your personal judgments, Lady Seriana, and come to the aid of your king.”

I shivered, but not from any evening chill. If things had changed, if the Lords had truly found a way to send monstrous henchmen across the Bridge to destroy a king in his own bedchamber, I couldn’t even imagine the danger. Panic. Riots. Murder. Civil war. The chaos caused by the destruction of the most powerful man in this world could be the very fodder to strengthen the Three of Zhev’Na beyond any possibility of defeat. And Karon was on the verge of his attempt on Zhev’Na.

“Tell them,” I blurted out. “Tell the people that King Evard has set out on a mission to take care of these disappearances, that he’s attacking those who are disturbing their sleep… as near the truth as you can make it. You’ll have to spirit him away, of course. As long as he’s in Montevial you’ll never be able to hide his condition long enough for us to learn what’s happened. So use the time to his benefit. Tell his people that he’s working to save them, and then do something in his name: proclaim a general amnesty, repeal the poaching laws, shorten indentures, revert a portion of their taxes to the landowners, anything to divert attention.”

I couldn’t believe what I was doing - advising Evard’s wife on how to protect his throne. But I would not see what civilization we had dissolve into anarchy. Chaos was exactly what our enemies wanted.

“And what will you do?”

Despite her protestations, to confess to the Queen of Leire that I was guilty of acts for which she could have me executed still caused a twinge in my gut. But evasion would profit nothing. “Prince D’Natheil must be told of these matters. He can investigate, decide what’s best to do. And if anyone can heal the king’s affliction, it is he.”