T'fyrr only growled; he had lost all patience with the once-great High King about the time his captors had pulled out his third primary.
I am not entirely certain I even want to help him now....
"I told him the Church had you in sanctuary," Harperus continued, "convinced that both of you were innocent of any wrongdoing. And I showed him how all those things that you had been hinting at were true, all the abuses of nonhumans, all the things that had been happening to human and nonhumans alike. I guessed that he might have been so thoroughly shaken up that he might actually listen instead of dismissing it all."
"Well, was he?" T'fyrr asked. It would take a miracle_
But evidently that miracle had occurred. "Enough to issue orders immediately revoking the warrants on you two, and to take the Seneschal and a gaggle of secretaries into a corner and start drafting interkingdom edicts granting basic rights to all peoples of all species," Harperus said with a note of triumph. But his triumph faded immediately. "That was when, according to the Seneschal, that mysterious woman struck. He called for breakfast; it arrived, and with it a lace handkerchief and a message. Theovere picked it up, opened it, and read it before any of the bodyguards even thought to look at it first_and he collapsed on the spot." Harperus shook his head. "I looked at him, and I'm baffled. There's no contact poison I know of that would work that way, and he shows no other signs of poisoning other than being in a coma no one can wake him from."
T'fyrr looked aghast at Nightingale, who only nodded, her lips compressed into a thin line. "If our enemy can hire mages to pluck T'fyrr from the sky, she can certainly hire a mage to write a note-spell to try to disable or kill Theovere. There was nothing on the note when they looked at it, right?"
"Right," Harperus replied, looking at Nightingale with respect and a little awe. "But it didn't kill him_"
"It doesn't have to," she pointed out. "If he is in a coma, he could stay that way indefinitely. The Advisors can reign as joint Regents on the pretense that someday he might wake up. This could go on for years. Come to think of it, that's better than killing him for their purposes. If a new High King was selected, they'd all be out of their positions."
"But what can we do?" T'fyrr asked, puzzlement overlaid with despair. Now_we have no choice. Nightingale and I may have a day or so to escape while our enemies obtain new warrants for us, but what of all the nonhumans in the Twenty Kingdoms? What is there left for them but to gather what they can and flee? "We are not physicians, and even if we were, surely the King's own doctors know best what is good for him."
"The King's doctors are as baffled as I am," Harperus replied. "And I am baffled by the message I received less than an hour ago." He raised his eyebrows and looked straight at Nightingale as if he suspected her of some duplicity. "The messenger seemed human or Deliambren, but had_unusual eyes and ears. And he spoke in riddles."
The corner of Nightingale's mouth twitched. "Go on," she said. "That sounds like an Elf to me. I happen to know there's one_ah_in the area."
In answer, Harperus handed her a piece of paper. She took it, and read it aloud for the benefit of T'fyrr and Father Ruthvere.
"'Tell the Bird of Night and the Bird of the King that the High King can be sung back from the darkness in which he wanders, if the guard-dog is released to return to his home. Half of the futures hold Theovere high, half of them hold him fallen. If the two Birds should sing to him as one, hearts bound, wrongs remembered but not cherished, their enemies may be confounded. No Elf, nor human mage, nor brightly-conceited artificer can command the power to accomplish this, for this is the magic of the heart and the Sight.'"
"I'm not certain I care for that 'brightly conceited,' part," Harperus muttered under his breath. Nightingale must have heard him anyway, for she treated him to an upraised eyebrow.
"Does this mean that Nightingale and I have_the ability to sing him out of this?" T'fyrr said incredulously. "But how?"
"It was accomplished by magic," Nightingale pointed out. "It's possible that magic can undo it. There might even be a mage somewhere inside his mind, holding him unconscious; if that's the case, Bardic Magic could reach Theovere in a way no other magic could duplicate_or block."
T'fyrr thought about that for a moment, and nodded. "I believe that I see," he said, and roused what was left of his feathers with a hearty shake before straightening up and holding his head high. "Those in a coma are said to understand what happens around them. We must go, of course_"
"Wait a moment!" Harperus objected, blocking the door. "I haven't told you the rest of it. If you flee now, you'll be outrunning warrants that won't ever have a chance to catch up with you before you cross a nonhuman border. If you stay, try, and don't succeed_the Advisors are spreading the rumor that Nightingale is the female assassin and in the hire of T'fyrr. They're saying as proof of this that there was no trouble until T'fyrr arrived at Court. If Theovere dies, you'll die_and if he simply remains in a coma, you'll die anyway. Someone has decided that you two are the obstacles that need to be removed for the Advisors to have a free hand again."
Nightingale dropped the paper at her feet. "That doesn't matter," she said steadily, and glanced over at T'fyrr.
I was wrong to discount Theovere. He can be reached; he was nearly his old self before they struck him down. We must help him, for his own sake, and for the sake of all those who are depending on us.
His heart swelled with pride and love for her. "She is right," he agreed. "It does not matter. Our enemies are counting on our cowardice. We must teach them better. And_" He hesitated for a moment, as the last of his anger with Theovere washed away. "And the High King needs us," he concluded. "If we desert him_we are no better than they. Perhaps, we are worse. We will try, for nonhumans and humans alike."
Harperus wordlessly stood aside, and the two of them walked out of the tiring room, through the Chapel and out into the street.
High King Theovere needs us, and he is the Twenty Kingdoms, for better or worse. With luck on our side_
_perhaps we can make it, "for better."
Nightingale settled at the High King's side, next to T'fyrr. The Haspur looked very odd, with patches of down-feathers showing where coverts had been taken, with his wings denuded, with reddened, visible scars and with not even a stump of a tail.
No one could deny his dignity, however, a dignity that transcended such imperfections.
That dignity had gotten them past the Bodyguards to the Captain, and from there to the one person T'fyrr thought might still back them: the Seneschal. The Captain and the Lord Seneschal had been skeptical of their claims to be able to reach Theovere by music_but they were also no friends of the King's Physician. The Seneschal simply didn't trust someone who was often in and out of the suites of the other Advisors. The Captain just didn't trust him, period. It was his opinion that there had been too much talk of purgings and bleedings, and not enough of things that would strengthen rather than weaken a patient.