The Eighth Warden Bk. 03 Ch. 17-18

Melithar kept his expression calm. "I'd be cautious about saying anything like that where Princess Vilisa might overhear." In truth, he was just as uneasy as the others. What was Vilisa up to? She couldn't be thinking of dismantling the High Council, could she? The positioning of the sentinels was clearly intended as a threat.

The two months since the attack on the Glass Palace had tested Vilisa's patience. While the attack itself had been clumsy, whoever had masterminded it was careful, leaving Melithar with a conundrum. Had more than one person been involved? He was gradually working his way back through the chain of hirelings, taking things slow with each target, waiting for a time when he could make them disappear without anyone important taking notice. His most recent lead, the man who'd been hired to set everything in motion, had been a dead end. By the time Melithar had reached him, someone else had already killed him—probably whoever had hired him.

The dead man, however, always worked with the same money man, a merchant of sorts by the name of Torolo. Torolo most likely knew who the perpetrator was, but Melithar hadn't figured out how to approach him yet. The man was too well known among the houses to just disappear off the streets, and there was too great a risk of him talking if Melithar were to question him and release him. If he was arrested formally, word would make it out to the councilors, giving the perpetrator a chance to escape. Perhaps some sort of bribe would work.

Melithar's musings were interrupted when Jorel and Eloina entered the room, followed by Vilisa. She was accompanied by her secretary—who happened to be one of the queen's own spies, though Melithar doubted Vilisa knew that. Trailing the group were two battle wizards wearing rapiers. That explained why there were no sentinels behind Vilisa's chair. She'd chosen more imposing guards for this meeting.

In her mind, she was making a show of power to the councilors, but by doing so, she was ignoring the political statement it sent to her own sentinels. When it really mattered, she hadn't chosen them to serve as her protection. Melithar sighed. His daughter was intelligent, but far too young and naive for the role she was playing. Ellerie had been right when she'd said Vilisa was better suited for the position, but neither of them was capable of matching their mother's cunning.

The councilors all bowed or curtseyed.

"Sit, everyone," Vilisa said. "Please." By custom, she'd be the last to take her seat.

Some of the councilors moved toward their chairs, but then stopped and eyed the armed guards who'd be standing right behind them if they sat down.

When Avaro spoke, his voice was slightly more respectful than it had been a few minutes earlier. "Exalted, are the sentinels necessary? We can hardly be expected to conduct council business like this."

Vilisa stared at him for a moment before answering. "Are the sentinels necessary? I suppose that depends on what you think is necessary. There's a traitor in this room, and the sentinels are here for your protection. Personally, yes, I think it's important to protect the lives of our esteemed High Councilors. Perhaps you do not?"

Traitor? What was she playing at? Had she learned something new?

The councilors all eyed each other nervously at Vilisa's announcement, but her barb worked, and they had no choice but to take their seats.

Melithar's own seat was to Vilisa's right, but he stood next to her instead. "What are you doing?" he hissed into her ear. "Exalted."

"Your methods were too slow," she murmured. Then she raised her voice. "We'll skip over any other council business. An hour ago, Commandant Jorel arrested a man I'm sure you all know, a purveyor of mood-altering powders and potions who goes by the name of Torolo. He was quite informative under the influence of a truth spell."

Melithar grunted. He didn't have a problem with making the investigation official; he just wished Vilisa had consulted with him first. He'd been working from the shadows out of habit, assuming Queen Revana would want to keep his activities quiet like usual. He shot glares at Jorel and Eloina for not warning him. They ignored him, watching the councilors' side of the table intently.

A whispering sound came from the far side of the table, but Vilisa was ready for it. The sentinel behind Councilor Retavin di'Yedda rested his sword against the man's neck, interrupting his spell.

"Lord Retavin, would you care to explain your reasons for the assassination attempts against my family?" Vilisa asked. "You're not even in the line of succession."

"I had nothing to do with those attempts," Retavin said. "All I know is what you've shared with us."

"Priestess?" Vilisa asked.

Eloina stood and walked over to the councilor, laying a glowing hand on his head.

Vilisa repeated her question.

Retavin struggled to keep from speaking. "I had nothing ... I had nothing to do with ... It had to be done for the future of Terevas."

It was the closest Melithar had seen anyone ever come to resisting a truth spell.

Avaro's eyes had gone wide. "My granddaughter is betrothed to his son. She's my only heir—if, forbid, something were to happen to Her Exalted Majesty and Their Exalted Highnesses, and I'm crowned king, she would be the next queen, and Retavin's son would be the consort."

"I wouldn't worry about that, Councilor," Vilisa said, menace in her voice. "You'll never be king."

"Your granddaughter is a blathering idiot, Avaro," Retavin said. "She's useless. All I cared about was your promise to close the borders and regrow the tershaya forests."

Melithar rolled his eyes. Whatever Retavin had intended to say to Avaro, the truth spell had loosened his tongue enough to provide a real answer, but the two men's political goals were pointless. The more conservative councilors had been trying to get Queen Revana to close the borders ever since she'd first opened them over a hundred years ago. At this point, reversing that decision would be a catastrophe. The people of Terevas had long ago adjusted to the change, and the nation now exported more goods than it imported. Outlawing foreign traders and returning to a time of high tariffs and border outposts would destroy the economy. Even the insular dorvasta allowed traders partway into the forest, though not to Terrillia itself.

As for the tershaya, every ruler promised to regrow them. Other than a few scattered trees, no one had ever been successful. The nilvasta simply didn't have the same bond with the tershaya that their forest-dwelling cousins had. Whatever they'd once had was long lost.

Vilisa barked a laugh. "That's what this was about? You couldn't even bother to come up with a good reason?"

"They're the only reasons that matter!" Retavin exclaimed, no longer trying to fight the spell. "Our people have lost their way since leaving the forest!"

"What way is that, exactly? Living up the side of a tree? Hiding from the rest of the world?"

Melithar winced. He didn't disagree with his daughter's point, but insulting the dorvasta was never a good idea politically. The nilvasta still honored their origins.

"We've forgotten what it means to be elven!" Retavin protested.

Vilisa said, "That's a question for the philosophers, Lord Retavin, but thank you for your confession. You've made this much easier. By my authority as heir, I find you guilty and sentence you to death."

She started whispering the words to a spell. Even for a wizard, it was impossible to tell what spell another wizard was casting, but Melithar knew what it would be. Vilisa was putting on a strong front, but there had been two attempts on her life and she was scared that the next one would succeed. Drenching the entire High Council in blood and body parts would certainly tell the other councilors to back off, but it was going too far.

"Wait, Exalted!" he exclaimed. "Not like this."

Distracted, she stopped casting. "You think to contradict me, Ambassador?" she asked. Her voice wavered slightly, not yet having taken on the icy tone it always had after she'd cast the spell.

"Never, Exalted," Melithar said with a deep bow. "But Her Exalted Majesty has requested to observe the execution of any persons responsible, under the headsman's axe as tradition demands. I apologize for not relaying that message sooner. The fault is my own."

Vilisa and Eloina knew he was lying, but the councilors couldn't be certain—it was the type of request Revana had made in the past. It would allow Vilisa to back down in front of an underling without losing any status.

She stared at him for a long moment, and he worried she'd go forward with the execution anyway, but then she nodded. "If that's what Mother wants, then of course we should obey her wishes."

Melithar breathed a sigh of relief. He had to get that spell book away from his daughter before she learned any more of its spells. More importantly, he had to teach her how to be queen—a real queen—before Revana finally gave in to her wasting illness.

###

Chapter 18

Birds called out a constant cacophony as Corec followed the pebble-lined trail into the village of Betan. With fewer than two hundred residents, Betan was still somehow the largest settlement along the western edge of the swamp. In contrast to the wildlife, the villagers themselves were quiet, staring in silence when Corec, Ellerie, Leena, and Josip passed by.

Half of the huts were built on land, while others perched on stilts over the murky water. A series of wooden bridges connected the stilt houses to each other and to the rest of the village, and small rowboats were bobbing in the water, tied up to the houses. Tall trees shaded the area, only allowing scattered beams of sunlight through. A bellowing growl came from just out of sight, followed by a loud splash. None of the villagers reacted, and a short time later, the growling started again.

"It's right up here," Josip said. "They told me he'd be back by now."

They stopped at what appeared to be an outdoor tavern—a hut with a bar in place of one wall. Three customers, all smelling strongly of fish, sat in rickety chairs under an awning.

Josip spoke to them in rapid Nysan.

"Aye," an elderly man answered. He wore grimy clothes and a hat with a flap that covered the back of his neck. "I'm Niklo. What ye want?"

"You speak trade tongue?" Josip asked, surprised.

"I'm speaking it, eh?"

Ellerie said, "Mr. Niklo, we'd like to hire you to help guide us across the swamp. We're going east."

The man looked them over, paying close attention to Corec's greatsword and the cheap brigandine armor he was wearing. Corec had convinced Marco to pay for it before they'd left Aencyr.

"Aye, I can do that," Niklo said, "but it'll cost ye. Five's too many for me boat. I'll have ta borrow another."

"It's not just us. We've got thirteen people, plus horses and mules."

"Ye want ta take horses across de waters?" the man asked. "Ye daft?"

"We can find a way to bring them across," Ellerie said, glancing at Leena, who nodded. "We'd like to hire you to get us there safely. None of us are familiar with the area. Can you do that?"

"Not making any promises about de horses. I could git ye across de swamp without dem."

"There's a way," Leena said. "We need to go north first. Just a few miles." She was wearing one of her usual modest dresses, and had borrowed Katrin's tight-fitting straw hat to hide the new rune on her forehead, an eight-pointed star similar to a compass rose. After hearing Leena's story, Corec hadn't been entirely surprised when she'd asked him to bond her, but the fact that Ellerie supported the decision had come as a shock. Even Razai hadn't tried very hard to convince her otherwise.

"Nord?" Niklo asked doubtfully. "Thought ye wanted east, eh? Nord don't go across de waters."

Leena said, "If we want to take the horses east, we have to go north first. There's a way to get through."

"We'll take care of finding the route," Ellerie told Niklo. "Can you help us make it through the swamp?"

"It's yer money ta waste. A silver a day."

Corec shared a glance with Ellerie. It was less than they'd expected to pay.

When no one objected, Niklo quickly added, "And five coppers. A silver and five coppers a day."

"It's a deal," Ellerie replied.

Niklo nodded and stood up. He appeared spry despite his age. "What's de swords for?" he asked, pointing to Corec's sword and Ellerie's rapier.

"Hopefully nothing," Corec said. "Is there anything dangerous in the swamp?"

The man laughed. "Aye, lots, but I don't know what good a sword'll do ye. Stick with old Niklo; I'll get ye through."

"What kind of dangers?" Ellerie asked.

"To start with, ye'll need something to cover yer neck so when de spiders and snakes drop from de branches, dey don't get inside yer clothing."

Corec's skin crawled.

Ellerie just nodded. "What about those sounds?"

"Ye mean de birds or de gators?"

"Gators?"

"De alligators. Big lizards. Dem growls are de boys looking for girls ta make de babies."

That deep bellowing noise was coming from a lizard? Just how big were they?

"Are they dangerous?" Ellerie asked.

"Only if ye're stupid—or if dey are. Stay away from de water at night, watch carefully during de day. If one comes at ye, run de other way as fast as ye can. Dey get tired fast. One of de stupid ones might try to eat a horse, so don't let it."

A lizard that could eat a horse?

"What about boggarts?" Josip asked.

Niklo scowled. "Don't talk about de boggarts. Ye talk about dem, it might bring dem."

#

"Look at this," Shavala said. "Niklo calls them pitcher plants. The smell attracts insects and then the plant eats them." The tall green stalks growing near the water had reddish, cup-like protuberances that were partly filled with pungent-smelling water.

"What?" Katrin said, peering inside at the dead flies and ants floating in the liquid. "That's gross!"

"Why? Plants always live on decomposing matter. But I've never seen one that actually hunts before. How tall do these look? Three to four feet?" Shavala pulled a scrap of paper from her pocket, along with one of the stormborn writing sticks she'd bought in Snow Crown. She scribbled down enough notes to help jog her memory later when she'd have time to write about the plants in more detail.

"I wish you wouldn't get so close to the water. It's almost dark. Remember what Niklo said."

Shavala checked her elder senses. "It'll be all right. The only alligator nearby is that one," she said, pointing to the creature they'd both seen earlier, floating like a log in the water thirty feet away. She called out to it. "Hello! Are you awake?"

"Shavala!"

Shavala grinned back at her. It was easy to tease Katrin. "Don't worry, it won't listen to me. I know it can hear what I'm saying; it's just not interested. That's how reptiles are. I keep trying to get them to come closer, but they refuse."

"Why would you want them closer?"

"I'd like to get a better description for my book." Shavala had originally planned to just write individual summaries of any new plants or animals she'd encountered, but the trip to Cordaea had changed things. By the time they returned, she'd have enough for an entire book—and that was just counting the more unusual creatures. It wouldn't be feasible to include all the minor variants she'd come across; doing so would take years, or maybe decades.

The alligators were unlike any lizard Shavala had ever encountered. She wasn't sure they were lizards at all. They were short and squat and covered with dark green or brown scales, and had long tails, a long snout, and a mouth filled with pointed teeth. From the glimpses she'd seen, they could reach lengths of ten to twelve feet. They moved slowly most of the time, but could lurch forward quickly when hunting a meal. They didn't do much during the day, but were more active after dark. Between their mating bellows, the constant birdcalls, and all the other sounds of the swamp—many of which even Niklo couldn't explain—it was sometimes hard to fall asleep at night.

The group had been in Nera Athoryvos for a week now, seeking a route that would be safe for the horses. Each time they thought they'd run into a dead end, Leena had managed to find a way forward. There were islands of dry land throughout the swamp, sometimes connected by old bridges. Three times, they'd had to lead the horses through the water, but Leena had found shallow spots where the mud wasn't thick enough to trap them in place. The third time, though, they'd found leeches on the horses' legs ... and then on their own. The worm-like parasites had worked their way up under everyone's clothing.

On the second day, Leena had discovered an ancient, mile-long section of a raised stone road. Ellerie was convinced it was part of the swamp road she'd been looking for, but when they reached the end, there was no further sign of it, and Leena had led them off along a different path. They were making progress, but it was slow going—Leena could only use her magic a few times a day, and the ground was moist enough that they had to be careful where the horses stepped.

It had gradually become apparent why the village of Betan was so small. The swamp people didn't like congregating in one place, instead living independently all throughout the area. It was common to come across a single stilt house in the middle of nowhere, the owner staring at the group silently. Sometimes Niklo greeted them, even buying fish from a few, while other times he ignored them completely, as if they weren't there.

Shavala finished writing her notes and returned them to her pocket. "I think I've got enough for tonight," she said. "Are you ready to head back?" She started off in the direction of the camp.

Katrin didn't follow, and when Shavala stopped to look back at her, the other woman woman suddenly blurted out, "Why didn't you answer Corec when I told him to ask you about elven sharing customs?"

Shavala hesitated, not sure how to respond. Finally, she said, "Because I'm not sure what you want. You're planning to marry him—do you just feel guilty that you met him first? You don't have to be, you know. I'm not in love with him. I'm happy for you."

"Maybe you don't love him, but you like him."

"Sure. He's a good friend, and those muscles ... elven men don't have muscles like that."

Katrin snickered. "So, what's the problem?"

Shavala tilted her head to the side. "You two are both humans. Don't you want to follow human marriage customs?"

"Which human marriage customs? Corec's the son of a baron—there's a good chance he'll take a concubine someday. His brother already did, and having a concubine in the family would make people take us more seriously. That might be useful for whatever he wants to do as a warden."

"Treya?" Shavala asked.

"She insists she's not a concubine. I don't think the two of them have ever talked about it. But whoever it is, I need some time to get used to the idea. It would be easier if you were first."

"Why are you so interested in this happening? He and I flirt, but you're always the one suggesting I take it further."

Katrin looked down. "I guess I just want you to be happier. Sometimes you seem so sad and quiet, and lonely."

"Then you do feel guilty," Shavala said.

"No, I'm worried about you."

Shavala wasn't sure how to explain everything in a way Katrin could understand. "I'm quiet because it's hard to talk when so many people are around. By the time there's an opening for me to say something, someone else has already said it. But I'm not sad—not about Corec, anyway. I'm sad when people try to hurt us and we have to kill them. Don't they know what a waste it all is? I'm sad because I couldn't talk to the snow beasts to stop them. They aren't animals, but they were following an animal instinct to find food. It's not their fault they attacked, but now they're dead, and Fergus is dead, and it was all just so stupid!" She stopped talking, embarrassed. It had been a long time since she'd said that much all at once.