Responsibility Ch. 24

Imagine, if you please, one asked around the castle, "Whatever happened to that maiden murderer, assuming she was indeed a murderer?"

It wasn't difficult to imagine. That's what people were saying. All this time, ever since that incident at the Imperial Court, the mysterious trespassing maiden had seemingly disappeared. No more murders, as far as everyone knew, and no more missing people. The Emperor commented on it several times, but honestly Rahela couldn't provide an answer to the riddle. She was as delightfully confused as everyone else.

When Ammas finally returned from his holiday, looking refreshed and with more dark hair on his head than before, Rahela brought him over for an informal lunch with her whole group. It was all taken outside so they could admire the slowly changing leaves and feel the bracing air.

Her eyelashes shining, Miss Verala chose to ask the man, "Guard, please tell me, where did you go during this peaceful time?"

Setting his cup of weak but pleasant ale down on the table he sat at, Ammas politely answered the young woman. "Mistress, I traveled wherever pleased me. I saw mountains and rivers, cities and villages, rich and poor. It filled my heart with joy."

"You didn't visit any family?" Verala asked as she picked up a little meat pie with a perfectly manicured hand. "Wouldn't that have been more prudent?"

Giving a short, sitting sort of bow, Ammas said, "My family has abandoned me. I only have myself to love."

Verala nodded and bit into her pie, which gave Rahela time to speak. "Ammas, while you were gone, and currently, we have no more incidents of that peculiar maiden. Certainly no more bodies, complete nor incomplete, in the trees." She picked up a knife to carefully stab at a piece of meat. "I'm wondering if that maiden followed you as you left."

He smiled. It was a little smile, but it was there.

"If I'd been followed," Ammas said, "then I wouldn't have been followed for long. I'd have done away with that sneaky person."

"Even so," Rahela said, "as grateful as I am for the peace, I wonder if this hateful force is waiting for something."

"What that something could be, assuming the force is indeed waiting," Ammas told her, "I don't know. I'd like to tell you."

Rahela nodded and continued eating.

***

Irakly quietly nodded down at the document he was reading in his favorite office.

Everything was in order. He couldn't find anything to grouse about. Nearby, Borys was with the little page named Zorig. They were sitting at a little table. Borys was trying to teach the smaller boy how to arm wrestle. Apparently understanding that he was far too strong for the small one, Borys held his strength back.

Someone knocked on the door.

Borys patted the top of Zorig's head. Then he got up to go answer the door. Irakly's eyes focused on that sight, but his posture suggested he was still reading.

From the small opening, where Borys had only pulled the door back enough to see, part of a maiden was visible. Irakly didn't immediately recognize her, not even by her voice. She whispered. Borys nodded at first. Then he shook his head and whispered something back. He slowly closed the door and went back to Zorig.

The Emperor's voice was causal. "Who was that?"

"That was one of Miss Verala's ladies-in-waiting. Miss Verala sent her to ask if Your Majesty would meet her in the gardens to have a conversation. She even claimed she had perturbing information concerning Her Majesty, and it must be told in person."

Barely a second went by before Irakly moved his thumb down his paper and concisely said, "She didn't wait long before trying to tantalize me, and to do so with such a weak lie?" He moved his head as if he wanted to shake it back and forth, but the movement was stopped before even half of it could form. His eyes narrowed. "She must not have gleaned that any lie she tells about the Empress Consort can be easily negated."

Zorig suddenly spoke up. He had a tiny voice, and he mispronounced words quite often, but he was still young. Tugging on Borys' sleeve, he asked, "Is someone lying? Why are they lying?" Well, that's what the Emperor knew he was trying to say. Someone not accustomed to the child's voice might wonder what he was talking about.

Rubbing his fingertips around the little one's scalp, Borys told him, "You don't need to hurt your brain by wondering about it. Only remember your oaths and promises. You will never repeat what your Master says in secret, and the same is for me. I am your senior." His fingers rose and gave two short pats. "My secret words must also be protected, because they reflect our Master."

His smile endearing, his brown eyes full of admiration, Zorig said he understood.

Some more quiet moments went on, but soon there was another knock on the door.

Borys got up and went to partially open that door. Irakly looked up. His eyebrows flicked up and the corners of his lips twitched.

Yana. The tall lady-in-waiting to the Empress Consort. The stuttering girl with the dark brown hair and a delicate sort of personality. Her face was calm, even soothed.

Borys patiently listened to her whispers, which were no doubt slow. After a time, Yana bowed and Borys gave a soft, "Thank you, Miss." Then he closed the door. This time, he didn't immediately go straight to Zorig. He went right to the Emperor's side and started his own whispering.

One of the Emperor's scars, the one on the left side of his face that went down to his throat, it seemed to pulse and shudder as air and muscle moved. He nearly chuckled.

Finally, Irakly muttered under his breath, "I'm disappointed."

***

While Rahela was certain that Verala hadn't come to terms with her beloved poison studies, she also knew that Verala wanted to please.

Standing in a corner in Rahela's bedchamber, there was a large and heavy chest. Strong men had to carry it in. Verala had said, "I've had men search as much of the world as feasible, and they've found the purest, grandest source for you. I hope Your Majesty will be pleased."

Carefully, Rahela had the contents inspected. It was poison. A light gray, almost silver looking powder with an oddly pleasant scent, not that it was wise to inhale significant amounts. It wouldn't harm one's skin very much at all, a minor rash at the worst. However, if one swallowed down an amount, even if it was mixed with water, that would be deadly.

It certainly shouldn't be exposed to open wounds. Vomiting, bloody diarrhea and or urine, extreme stomach pains, convulsions and cramping, organ damage including heart failure, and even mental dysfunction could be caused depending on how one is exposed and for how long.

"I can only hope," Verala had also said, "that Your Majesty will find her enjoyment in studying such a dangerous mineral."

Rahela imagined she could take several thoughtful notes. If she was a sadistic kind of person, she might've experimented with the poison on a criminal. Thankfully, simply having the mineral as part of her dangerous collection was enough to hold her interest. As it was with the fungus, Rahela kept three different padlocks on it. She was at a point where she had two full key rings on her person most of the time. Even when she wasn't wearing much jewelry, she tended to walk with little clanging noises ringing from her hips.

Rahela was standing near the corner, pensively staring at the chest full of poison, when she heard Yana announce her return, standing behind her. "Your ... Your Majesty, I've re-re-returned to you."

"You've sent my message, have you?" Rahela said as she turned around. It was still very much daylight. Around this bright time, the Emperor would've certainly been looking over paperwork.

Verala and retinue were off obeying one of Rahela's commands. Specifically, Rahela told her to collect autumn dew as an ingredient for a cosmetic cream to make and give to the Empress Dowager. Of course Verala had gracefully leapt up at the chance to impress the Empress Dowager. Who wouldn't?

Most of Rahela's retinue were in other parts of the large bedchamber. The chambermaids were keeping things tidy. Ammas was some distance away, facing the direction of the exit. Rahela and Yana were basically alone in this little corner.

Her eyes low, but her bearing peaceful, Yana replied, "Ye-yes, Your Majesty."

One of Rahela's hands went down to her belt, where her fingertips tapped against some of her keys. "He'll have my present ordered soon?"

Nodding, Yana said, "Borys ha-has puh-promised that His Majesty will ... will order the finest s-s-soaps for you, with more ru ... rah," she took an extra breath here, "rare jewels attached. He didnnnnn ... he didn't need ... didn't need to ask His Ma-majesty before c-confirming."

"So," Rahela said without any change in her cool tone, "have you spoken to Borys of Ammas?"

Yana's fingers wrenched and twisted with each other. Her breath halted, released, then halted again. Her throat seemed to move irregularly. Her voice repeated this sound a few times, "Ah, ah, ah!"

Rahela hardly blinked. "I've always known my ladies-in-waiting were far more loyal to the Emperor than to me, no matter how well they behaved. Never fret. All my actions are made with that fact in mind."

Yana slapped her palm into her lips and seemed to swallow a tiny cry.

"I only thought to tell you," Rahela said, "because I wanted to be kind. I don't want you to be unaware." She took a step toward and then around the girl, and she didn't look back once she was ahead. "Dip your words in caution, Child. I could remove you any time I wish. Perhaps the Emperor would protect you, but you'd still hold the shame of being demoted. Not even the Empress Dowager outranks me now. Any other woman you'd be sent to would have much less opportunity for you."

Rahela looked back then. Yana was quivering.

Rahela sighed. Perhaps a step on, and she said, "Don't let any guilt sprout in your heart. You've only been doing as you're told. Your Madam isn't angry, not as you are now. Now go ask for a sweet pastry and a cup of herb water, use my authority if you must. You need a calm moment."

That was when Rahela left Yana completely, walking over to Ammas. He was so stern and disciplined. Didn't he ever do anything for his own simple pleasure? Aside from eating? He did like eating. Rahela considered sending an extra bowl of sweet porridge to him the next morning.

"Ammas?" she said as she saw Yana walk on out of the corner of her eye. "Are you well?"

Turning his eyes just enough to note her, then looking back ahead, Ammas said, "Yes, Your Majesty."

"I'm relieved," Rahela said. "If you weren't well, I'd be concerned for you."

***

Irakly was feeling mostly bored and a little irritated. It couldn't be helped.

He sat at his personal balcony on this cool night, cutting play soap into cubes and thinking to himself. There were many things to think about. Hrist, that old war dog he'd been rather fond of. The squires that had disappointed and infuriated him. Aksinya Chaika, his first wife, the one that had been divorced. Falling leaves and past voices, even voices of those long since dead.

The world is an intricate web.

He blinked as more soap pieces crumbled down.

That wasn't a particularly deep thought. It was actually quite obvious. Teenagers understood it. Why was he, a grown man with sights across the world, suddenly thinking that overdone phrase? It was something he lived in. It was a boring truth. It was as if he was suddenly thinking that dirt makes things dirty. What else was there to comment on with such a thing?

Empress Consort Rahela, the Little Bacon, the woman with unusual eyes and a cold face.

More pieces of dry soap rained down into a bucket.

That little page, Zorig, his voice penetrated the Emperor's thoughts.

"Your Majesty? What do you do with the crunchy soap stuff?"

"Hm?" He didn't turn to look at the child. "It's melted with some water, poured into molds, and dried into new bars."

There was a tugging on the Emperor's long tunic's skirt. His hands paused. He looked down at the boy, who had the most innocent little expression. "Your Majesty?" That was a phrase he'd learned to pronounce quickly. "I get money, right?"

Irakly balanced his knife on his thigh and used his now free hand to lightly pat Zorig's head. "You'll have money soon. Even little pages have an allowance as long as they work hard."

The boy's lips thinned out, then rubbed together very uncomfortably. His eyes rolled around, then settled down on the casual fabric the Emperor's tunic was made of. "Might I buy your soap stuff?"

Eyebrows high then, Irakly gently asked the boy, "What do you want with this low product? It's very cheap."

Rocking on his feet for a moment, Zorig said, "Borys is warm to me. I want to give him a present, but I don't have lots of money."

The Emperor used a very light tug on the boy's hair, just enough to prompt him to look up at him. His scarred face softening, he told Zorig, "I'll order a charming mold for you to pour your soap into, but I'll sprinkle the money for it. You'll still buy my leftovers. Fine?"

Zorig beamed up at him. Then he took a step back, bowed, and skipped on over to Borys, who was reading a scroll near a lamp, which might not have been healthy for his eyes.

Irakly shrugged and went back to his mostly pointless carving.

He'd turned his bar into a little sliver when a chamberboy approached and announced, "One of Miss Verala's ladies-in-waiting is at the door. Miss Verala is asking for you to meet her in her guest room."

His head and eyes staying low, dropping his sliver and reaching for another bar of soap, the Emperor calmly said, "There's no law against her request. In fact, many rulers have gone off to a woman's bed, even to their spouses' favorites." He imagined Borys might've been blushing.

"Ah well ... she's said she'll have her girl attendants to remain as witnesses to her chaste nature."

Running his blade through the soap.

More uneven little cubes fell.

"Chaste?" said Irakly. "She could still be a virgin, but she might've been luring other men her way, although I'm not certain who would be worth her time."

"Borys! What's a virgin?" That was Zorig. He was playing around with a board game set, but apparently he hadn't been too distracted to ask his question.

The Emperor heard Borys cough and sputter. Then the older boy said, "I'll tell you later." What, precisely, he'd say wasn't known to Irakly but he trusted the squire to be very age-appropriate.

Sweeping and brushing the tiny pieces away, Irakly told Borys, "Go tell that pretty woman I'll see her, but don't tell her that you'll come with me."

***

Compared to a private bedroom that, say, a middle class woman might have in her home, this was a very large place. Compared to what Irakly or his wife might sleep in, it was pretty small.

Near her crisply made bed, there were pallets on the floor for her ladies and maid-in-waiting. A desk near a window was loaded with cosmetics, perfumes, and combs. A few scrolls were on an otherwise empty shelf. There were a few small, round tables and some chairs. It was perfectly and ordinarily decorated and arranged.

On the way down the hall to this bedroom, the Emperor and Borys both noted a pretty obvious fact. Miss Verala's ladies and maid-in-waiting were standing in a line in the hallway, their backs against one of the walls. Their cheeks and noses were flushed and they wouldn't look anyone in the eye. When the Emperor paused to address these girls, they only bowed to him and said they were obeying their mistress' orders.

The Emperor and Borys moved on to the guards at the bedroom's door. They didn't seem to know what was happening, but they were content to know there wasn't anything violent.

The Emperor paused at the door, and he reached into one of his pouches to pull out a black blindfold. He bent down to better reach Borys' ear, and he whispered, "I can't guarantee the vision will be suitable for a boy's eyes. I'll tie this over your eyes and hold your wrist so you don't lose your way."

Borys took a heavy looking gulp and nodded. He showed no resistance when Irakly secured the fabric around his head, making sure his eyes were shielded. Then Irakly personally opened the door and walked in, keeping his squire at his side.

It was nearly instant, the beautiful image that was right there in the center of the room. The Emperor privately admitted to himself that it would be an excellent leading image for a scroll of pornographic drawings, teasing but not too graphic, making one want to see what the other images would be.

Miss Verala stood there so proudly, so elegantly, that the Emperor nearly sighed. Her body only held a chemise. No gown. No stockings. No shoes. How daring! And her hair wasn't even in braids. It was loose and flowing down her front. Lovely red locks shimmering under the dim firelight.

Verala's face was expectant and hopeful for what seemed to be a second. Irakly grinned as the expression changed to wide-eyed horror. The child with Irakly was a dangerous clue to her. In her logic, or at least this is what the Emperor supposed, the child's presence implied that either something very disgusting and heinous was about to happen with that child, or the Emperor most certainly didn't want to give into her temptation.

The Emperor closed the door, only releasing Borys to give himself more room to do it. When he had Borys' wrist again, he noticed the boy was suddenly trembling and pressing his lips together. A second or more of quiet discomfort passed, and then Borys suddenly asked, "Your Majesty, is it disgraceful?"

"Quite disgraceful," the Emperor said as his crooked nose gleefully wrinkled. "I'm grateful for your presence, Boy. You're protecting my reputation. Nobody here would believe I'd involve a child with whatever this young woman had been planning."

His brow uneven, his face darkening, Borys made a vexed little noise in his throat.

Miss Verala managed to squeak out half a syllable before Irakly stopped her with a single word.

"No."

More unpleasant, silent seconds.

Verala was soon trembling more than Borys.

The Emperor continued. He was very smug about it. "If one chooses to make an enemy out of Rahela of Testoa, then only two routes would be safe. One," his free hand rose and he held up his thumb here, "kill her. Two," the index finger rose here, "reconcile with her." His finger and thumb retracted back to their more relaxed positions as the hand fell back down. "Any other route will have you suffering. My wife has killed with her own hands. Imagine what she would do with my direct support."

Verala's eyes narrowed so harshly that her pretty irises were soon like slits.

Irakly's free hand made a haughty little gesture. "Dress yourself and braid your hair. You'll have a walk with us."

With Borys still whimpering out of youthful and innocent discomfort, with the Emperor sternly watching, Verala went to her desk to adjust her appearance. She combed her hair very briskly. Then she put it all into a single, rather Yahsin looking braid. Once that was done, she unlocked a few chests to pull out some clothes. She dressed herself unusually plainly.

Finally, when the maiden was fully dressed, Irakly told her to follow him, but those girls of hers weren't allowed to follow at all. He made sure to remove Borys' blindfold and release his wrist, and then the Emperor led them away.

Out of the room, down the hallway, off and away. Turns and turns.

All the way to the entrance to the Empress Consort's bedchamber.

Inside, Empress Rahela stood, practically surrounded by her chambermaids, ladies-in-waiting, and her little maid-in-waiting. Standing a bit ahead of the group, his hand on his sword, there was Ammas. His chin was high and his lips were in part of a smile. Along with a victorious little grin, Rahela was wearing an unnecessary and tall headdress on her head, veil and everything. At this point in the alarming scene, even Borys' confidence had returned. It seemed that the only one with no sense of assurance was Miss Verala.