Curious, Anne stepped over the remains of a wall and into the nearest ruin. There was a sort of mound not far in, which on closer inspection turned out to be a broken stone box. Something dull and white caught her eye, and she bent to pick it up. It was thin but heavy, and with a start she realized it was a small piece of lead foil. She felt the slight raising of letters on it, and with a gasp dropped it.
“What’s wrong?” Austra asked.
“This is a city of the dead,” Anne whispered. “Like Eslen-of-Shadows.” She backed away from the box, which could only be the remains of a sarcophagus.
“Saints!” Austra murmured, looking around. “But where is the living city? We’re too far from Pacre, and I don’t think we’re to Teremene yet.”
“No one has kept this up,” Anne said. “The city-of-the-quick must be gone, too. Maybe it was farther down the valley.”
“A whole town, gone?” Austra wondered aloud. “How could that happen?”
“It happens,” Anne said. “It might have been a plague, or war—” A shiver went down her back. “Let’s get out of here. These aren’t our ancestors. They might not like having us here.”
“Wait,” Austra said. “Look over there.”
Anne reluctantly followed Austra around another pile of rubble. Beyond it stood a construction that was more or less intact, square, four-walled, though with no roof. The arch of the doorway had fallen in, but the opening was still there. Inside, trees and vines grew so thickly, they seemed nearly impenetrable.
“It’s a horz,” Austra said. “It looks almost like the one back home—where we found Virgenya’s tomb.”
A strange sensation settled on Anne as she realized Austra was right. She felt something turn behind her eyes and the faint whisper of a voice in a language she did not know.
“We have to leave, Austra,” she said urgently. “We have to leave now.”
Austra turned, and her eyes widened. “Your face,” she said, sounding concerned. “Are you all right?”
“I just have to leave.”
The feeling faded as they put the horz behind them.
“What was it?” Austra asked.
“I don’t know,” Anne replied. Then, seeing the skeptical look on Austra’s face, she said, “I really don’t know. But I’m feeling better now.”
Austra suddenly frowned. “Did you hear that?” she asked. “Was that Cazio?”
“I didn’t hear anything.”
Austra started running up the hill, but Anne caught her by the hand. “Wait,” she whispered. “Slowly. Quietly.”
“Why? It sounded like he was shouting.”
“All the more reason,” Anne said. “What if he was trying to warn us?”
“Warn us?” Austra’s voice sounded a little panicky.
They hurried to the top of the hill, crouching low, and peered down through the grapevines.
Cazio and z’Acatto were there, along with some twenty riders. Cazio was down on his knees, his sword several yards away, and one of the men was binding his hands behind his back. Z’Acatto was standing and already bound.
It was the knights and soldiers from the docks.
“They’ve found us,” Anne whispered.
“Cazio,” Austra gasped. Then she opened her mouth to shout it, and Anne had to clap a hand over it.
“No,” Anne barely sighed. “We have to run.”
Austra closed her eyes and nodded. Anne removed her hand.
“We can’t leave them,” Austra said anxiously.
“They didn’t kill them,” Anne said. “They won’t unless they catch us, do you see? But if they do catch us, we’ll all die.”
“They’ll come up here,” Anne said. “We’re lucky they haven’t already, but they recognized Cazio and z’Acatto, so they know we must be somewhere. The only way we can help them is by staying free.”
“I suppose so,” Austra relented.
They started back down the hill, toward the ruins, creeping at first, but when they heard horses’ hooves coming up behind them, they began to run.
2
The Blind, the Deaf, and the Darkness
When Alis Berrye entered, Muriele waved her to a seat.
“Tell me what is happening,” she said. “Tell me how I might die today.”
Berrye frowned and clutched her hands together. “Majesty,” she said, “first I’d like to discuss the matter of the attack on Lady Gramme’s manse.”
“Go on,” Muriele said, reaching for her cup of tea.
“You ordered that because of my suggestion that Prince Robert was there, and that the lady Gramme was plotting against you. I fear I have failed you.”
“Because we did not find Robert?” Muriele took a sip of the tea. “That’s hardly a surprise. That matter went very poorly, but it was not your fault. There should not have been an attack, for one thing. My orders were to surround the place so no one could sneak away. Sir Fail was then to enter with my authority and conduct a peaceful search. Instead, his men were set upon and they reacted like the warriors they are. But Robert aside, it’s fairly clear that Gramme was conspiring to win over the support of the Newland landwaerden. That in itself was worth knowing.”
Berrye continued to look troubled. “Majesty, I could have discovered that myself, without bloodshed.”
“You have the presumption to tell me that sending my men to Gramme’s was a mistake?”
“It is my duty to tell you such things, Majesty,” Berrye replied. “It is in the nature of what you have asked me to do.”
Muriele raised an eyebrow, but Berrye was right. Erren had never shied from telling her when she had been a fool. Of course, Erren had been older, and her friend of many years. Having this girl remonstrate with her was—annoying.
“Very well, I accept that,” she said reluctantly. “I know that it was an unpopular move, particularly in certain quarters. But I felt I had to make some show of force, make some statement that I will not sit passive and be a target.”
“Maybe so,” Berrye agreed, “but you might have picked another battle. The landwaerden are no longer disaffected with the throne—they are furious at it. Your support in the Comven is weaker than ever, and the rumor in the streets is that you have gone mad. Worst of all, the praifec has begun to speak against you.”
“Really,” Muriele said. “What does the praifec say?”
“He suggests pointedly that you have wrested power from your son.”
“He knows very well Charles isn’t capable of making decisions.”
Berrye nodded. “That is, I believe, his point. His further point being that your son should be removed from your council and placed under his.”
Muriele smiled bitterly. “Only a few days ago, he suggested that I allow troops from z’Irbina to camp in this city. Did you know that?”
“No, but I could have guessed it. The Church is in motion, Majesty. I do not know the exact nature of their agenda, but I think it certain they are ending their long reclusion from direct interference in secular affairs.”
Muriele settled her cup on the arm of her chair. “Hespero said something like that, too,” she said. “Very well—kill him for me.”
“Majesty?” Berrye’s eyes widened fractionally.
“I’m joking, Lady Berrye.”
“I . . . Oh, good.”
“Unless you think I’ve gone mad, as well.”
“I don’t think that at all, Majesty,” Berrye assured her.
“Well, good,” she said sarcastically. “You’ve told me what I did wrong—I’m open to your suggestions of what to do right.”
“It’s of the greatest importance that you win the landwaerden and merchants back to your cause, Majesty,” the girl replied. “I cannot stress that enough.”
“Believe it or not,” Muriele said, “I had entertained thoughts along those lines some weeks ago. I commissioned a piece of music to be composed for them and for the common people of the city. The performance was to be some three weeks hence, with a banquet to accompany it. I didn’t know that Lady Gramme had beaten me to it. Now I suppose there’s little point. It will only seem like an apology.”