Measure and the Truth

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

You might have killed her!”

Selinda heard those words, spoken by an angry voice… a familiar voice… She tried to shake off the cobwebs fogging her mind and felt her unsettled stomach churning.

Father!

She was lying on a couch in the anteroom of his study. The loud, stern words were coming from behind the closed door. Her father was speaking to the one who had brought her there, she realized at once, the black-masked priest of an evil god.

Selinda tried to call out to her father, but again her body failed to cooperate. Instead, she tried to listen carefully, to hear the outside sounds over the frantic pounding of her heart and the labored effort of her breathing.

“She was in very little danger.” That was the priest’s voice, insistent but hardly apologetic. “And I brought her here at once, just as you ordered. Perhaps she is weakened by the pregnancy-I did nothing to harm her! Or else your other agent, the one who lured her into his place of business, might have given her something to make her ill. How far do you trust him?”

“Hale has always been a faithful agent,” the lord regent said coldly. “He knows better than to displease me.”

No! Selinda was repulsed by her father’s words, almost gagging in horror. But the truth was plain: du Chagne had contracted Lame Hale to accost his own daughter! Hale had drugged her, tied her up, threatened her-and all at the command of her own father!

She pushed herself up into a sitting position, looking around, wanting only to escape. There was another door besides the one leading to her father’s office. Standing unsteadily, she stumbled to that exit, tried the handle, and found it locked. Despairing, she returned to the couch and sat down, trying to collect her thoughts. Gradually she noticed there was only silence coming from the office. She wondered if the priest had left by some other route.

Abruptly, the door opened and du Chagne strolled in. “Ah, you’re awake,” he said with forced heartiness. “Do you think you can sit up? Would you like something to eat?”

She shook her head, looking over his shoulder. “Father! That man? Where is he?”

“The… the Nightmaster is gone.”

“He’s a terrible man, a wicked man!” she accused. “And so is Lame Hale!”

Du Chagne sighed, slumping wearily. “I had hoped things would turn out different,” he started to explain. “I mean… this was meant to be for your own good! I hoped you’d understand-”

The outer door opened, and the Nightmaster came in, pushing Melissa du Juliette before him. Her hands were bound, and there was a gag wrapped tightly around her mouth. The priestess’s eyes widened in dismay at the sight of Selinda and her father.

“Melissa!” Selinda cried, trying to rise as the priestess of Kiri-Jolith was roughly pushed onto the couch. The princess glared at the Nightmaster. “What do you think you-”

“She was spying on you,” the priest said, speaking directly to the lord regent. “I caught her outside your window-levitating, of course. I’d slit her throat right now and be done with it.”

Selinda’s eyes widened in horror. She turned to look at her father and was horrified to see he was clearly thinking over the dark priest’s advice.

“No!” shouted the princess, furiously leaping to her feet to confront the masked priest. He reached out a hand, touched her cheek, and she slumped back onto the couch. Desperately, she struggled to rise, tried to lift her arms, but she couldn’t move.

She could see and hear everything in the room, but her muscles were utterly paralyzed.

“I thought we would find Melissa here,” Coryn said to Jaymes in some surprise. They had teleported directly from New Compound into the priestess’s quarters within the temple of Kiri-Jolith. But the chambers were clearly empty. “She must have felt too much urgency to wait and gone directly to the regent’s palace herself. Or perhaps she’s merely scouting the scene. I really don’t think she would go in until we arrived to help.”

“Let’s get going, then,” Jaymes urged.

Again, Coryn cast her magic spell, and shortly the two found themselves transported to a small room. A glance out the nearby window showed that they were high above Palanthas, looking down on the city and the harbor from a lofty tower. Jaymes quickly deduced that they were in the Golden Spire of the lord regent’s palace.

“We can go down the stairs and surprise du Chagne,” Coryn explained softly. “He doesn’t expect to see anybody coming from this direction.”

They descended the spiraling stairs quickly but as silently as possible. Within a few moments, Coryn and Jaymes were crouching on the lowest balcony of the long stairway descending from the top of the Golden Spire. They could hear voices raised in anger emanating from behind the closed door of the lord regent’s office. Two men-at-arms stood before that door, looking nervously at each other.

Jaymes pointed to himself, then at the guards, indicating first one, then the other. His hand clenched over the hilt of his sword, and the white wizard took his arm, looked at him, and shook her head. With an impatient expression, he held his place.

Coryn pulled a pinch of something from a tiny pocket in her robe. Gesturing to the emperor to stay where he was, she stood and started down the stairs toward the two guards.

They both looked up in surprise at her unexpected appearance. She smiled and murmured something, waving her hand before her face and opening her fingers. The pinch of sand she let go sifted down toward the floor, and the two guards slumped backward against the wall then slowly slid down to sleep on the floor.

Jaymes was already gliding down the stairs and drawing Giantsmiter for action. Coryn leaned her head against the door, listening. As Jaymes approached, she nodded, and he lowered his shoulder and hit the door with a violent crash.

Selinda lay on the couch, magically immobilized. Melissa du Juliette, still bound and gagged, was seated on the couch beside the princess. They heard the smash of wood and even without turning her head, Selinda could see that her husband, his great sword drawn, had come bursting into the room. Coryn was right behind him.

“Halt!” demanded the Nightmaster through his black mask, raising his hand. Magic pulsed through the room, and Jaymes stopped in his tracks, his body lurching forward while his feet remained fixed to the floor. He twisted, almost dropping his sword.

Coryn raised her hand, crying out a word that sounded like a terrible growl. A flash of light seared through the room, and Jaymes tumbled free, rolling once before bouncing, catlike, to his feet. At the same time, Selinda, who had been straining to see what was happening, felt her paralysis weaken. The magic holding her, as well as the spell restricting Jaymes, had been weakened by Coryn’s counter-spell.

The princess wrenched her head around. Relief flooded through her-not at the prospect of rescue but because she was starting to regain control of her body. She twitched her fingers and felt a rewarding flicker of mobility. Still, she knew she was too weak to stand and couldn’t quite gain control of her vocal cords.

Smoke swirled around them, and she saw the Nightmaster casting a spell, hurling a cloud of noxious gas toward the white wizard. With a sharp bark-like a guttural challenge-Coryn raised her wrist to parry the attack, and the cloud exploded, erupting upward to shatter a good portion of the ceiling. Dust and debris showered down. A beam broke free and tumbled downward, knocking the white wizard on the shoulder and sending her sprawling.

The Nightmaster was still there, standing in front of the cowering lord regent. “Kill them!” shrieked du Chagne. He was pointing at the emperor and the white wizard, but to Selinda’s mind, he might just as well have been talking about his daughter.

The priest cast a spell, and a force of mistlike energy materialized in the air. It smashed into Jaymes, knocking him flat on his back. The magical hammer swirled upward and smashed down again, driving her husband’s head hard against the marble floor.

Selinda’s voice came back to her as she croaked out a scream.

Jaymes lay on his back, his sword arm stretched to the side. Once more the hammer of the masked priest gathered for a mighty blow, but the emperor reacted first. Pulling his weapon over his body, he took hold of Giantsmiter’s hilt with both hands. When the magical hammer came down, the sword flamed and sliced cleanly through the enchantment. Springing to his feet, Jaymes closed on the Nightmaster, his face locked into a feral snarl. Coryn, groggy and bleeding, pushed herself to her feet, stumbling toward the lord regent.

Then the high priest spoke again, and the entire room was swallowed by darkness.

Bakkard du Chagne felt himself seized by the scruff of the neck. The surrounding darkness was total, so the lord regent couldn’t see who or what had accosted him, hoisting him off the ground like a child’s toy, but he felt pretty certain that whatever lifted him had force much greater than any mortal’s grip.

A chaotic tangle of noise surrounded him, and he tried to clasp his hands to his ears, blocking out the cacophony. But the power seemed to have a paralyzing effect because he couldn’t move his limbs, couldn’t feel his skin. He was consumed with terror, and the worst of it was he couldn’t even scream.

Then as quickly as the raging storm had started, it broke. Du Chagne found himself standing on a solid surface, perched high up on a tower-a tower much, much higher than the Golden Spire of his own palace.

“Where in the Abyss are we?” demanded the lord regent, staggering weakly, nauseated at the prospect of the dangerous depths just below his feet. He barely noticed the vista of lofty mountains pressing in from all sides, nor did he take note of the famous, sprawling outline of the fortress around him.

“This is the High Clerist’s Tower,” the Nightmaster said.

“Why did you bring me here?” the lord regent demanded.

“It was either that or let the emperor kill you,” replied the priest. “For reasons unknown to me at the moment, I elected to save your life.”

Blayne stood at the top of the steps leading up to the gate tower. The column of Dark Knights still milled around outside the gate, blocked by the portcullis he had just dropped, but there were a score or more of the attackers-including Captain Blackgaard-already in the city. The knights were charging him, coming up the stairway with swords drawn and murderous intent on their faces.

The young lord met the first of those foes with a savage downward chop, delivered with such force he shattered the knight’s upraised blade and cut deeply into the man’s face. Immediately twisting the blade free, he knocked a second knight to the side, sending the fellow tumbling back down the stairs with his throat cut.

But the stairs were wide enough for the Dark Knights to come at him two at a time and so they did. The next pair, no doubt gaining some respect for their opponent after seeing the fate of the initial attackers, approached more cautiously. Striking from below, they aimed at Blayne’s legs, both stabbing simultaneously. The young lord couldn’t parry two blows at once; he had no choice but to back away, even though that meant giving up his position at the top of the stairs.

He backed across the tower platform, moving into the corner and raising his sword as the attackers swept onto the platform. “Kill that one!” barked Captain Blackgaard, pointing at the young lord of Vingaard.

A trio of Dark Knights rushed at him. Blayne slashed to the right and left, cutting down two but leaving an opening for the middle attacker. That knight grinned coldly as he raised his blade. Then he croaked and stumbled sideways, an arrow jutting from the side of his neck.

Blayne wasted no time wondering who was shooting. He charged in a fury, cutting down another black-clad soldier and fighting his way toward the stairs. The other Dark Knights on the platform shouted in consternation as swords clashed against shields and other blades cut into flesh. A wild melee erupted, swordsmen ducking and dodging, parrying and attacking on all sides.

Captain Blackgaard stepped into Blayne’s path, and the nobleman feinted a thrust at the mercenary Dark Knight’s face. The veteran officer sneered and stepped back then charged again. Once more the lord struck high; once more Blackgaard parried the blow. Then too late, he saw his mistake. The lord stabbed straight ahead, driving his blade through the captain’s belly, pushing him back and down with the force of the killing blow.

Then the new men, led by Sir Ballard, were all around. They spilled from the stairs to rush across the platform. Archers shot arrows at the Dark Knights who had been blocked outside the city gate by the closed portcullis. Unable to fight against those lethal missiles, the horsemen put spurs to their mounts and galloped into the night.

Only vaguely did Blayne understand that he had been saved, but when he finally realized who his savior was, he clasped hands with Sir Ballard and allowed himself a groan of relief.

The Legion of Steel was there.

“Are you all right?” Jaymes said, kneeling beside Selinda while Coryn freed the bonds on Melissa du Juliette. They were in Selinda’s rooms in the palace, having teleported there after the Nightmaster and the lord regent left the Golden Spire.

“Yes-I’ll be fine. But the city-the coup?”

“I think the coup is falling apart. But I have to go out there and be seen. The people need to know that their emperor is back.”

“Yes, they do,” the emperor’s wife agreed. She winced in sudden memory. “But Father! He-”

“I know,” Jaymes said. “He’s even more of a scoundrel than I thought he was.”

“Where did he go?” Selinda asked.

“The Nightmaster’s magic bore them both away from here,” Melissa explained. “They could be anywhere.”

“I have a feeling I know where they are,” Jaymes said grimly. “And as soon as the city is secured, I will be going there. Now… I’m sorry… but I have to go.”

“Yes-and good luck to you,” said the princess. She made no move to embrace or to kiss him, and after a moment’s hesitation, he turned and quickly departed, running down the palace stairs.

The princess collapsed back against the couch, trying to catch her breath and fathom all that was happening.

Coryn and Melissa du Juliette explained how they had tracked her to the Hale and Farewell, confronted Lame Hale, and brought Jaymes back to Palanthas.

“Thank you-thank you both,” Selinda said gratefully. “What about that place-Lame Hale! He’s a slaver, right here in Palanthas!”

“He’s a dead slaver now,” the priestess noted grimly. “Someone killed him with a spell while we were trying to question him. Everyone associated with that place will be dealt with. As we learned what was happening, the knights of Kiri-Jolith were moving into that place, rounding up everyone they could catch there. Their justice will be stern, and it is safe to assume the building has been destroyed, the proprietors slain or captured.” She shook her head. “I do not envy the prisoners of the knights, if those prisoners are known to have abused a woman.”

“Why did he pick me?” Selinda wondered. “Nobody in there knew who I was; that’s one thing I liked about the place.”

“Perhaps it was nothing more than a random accosting,” the priestess suggested.

“I’m not so sure,” Coryn said, surprising both of the women.

“What do you mean?” Selinda asked.

“I spoke to some of the customers in that place and the barkeep after we took Hale and found your ring. I’m convinced he did know who you are.”

“But-how? I never revealed my identity!” protested the princess.

“That is a very good question. But the barkeep’s story has led me to believe that Hale must have been trying to lure you, personally, into the place. I suspect he used charm magic himself. He was a sorcerer, though not a follower of godly magic.”

“I still don’t understand.”

“Why did you go in there in the first place?” the wizard probed gently.

“I… I was just out walking. It felt so good to be free of my room, my guards… my husband. And I followed the inviting scent of the waterfront because it had been so long since I’d been there. At least, I thought that was the reason. And then this man, Hale, called to me as I passed on the street. I was frightened at first… but then, it just seemed like it would be interesting and fun.”

Selinda felt sick and humiliated as she made her confession.

“And once you were inside? I understand you went there several times. Why?”

“Hale… well, he seemed so friendly. A good listener…” Selinda’s voice trailed away. How could she have been so foolish? Or so lucky, she realized, considering the narrowness of her escape. “How did you find me?” she asked.

“The ring I gave you,” Coryn explained. “Because I made it, its magic has a very strong connection to me. We noticed you had been missing over a period of days, so I cast a spell to locate the ring, and the ring led us to Hale.”

Selinda slumped back in her chair, sinking into the cushions, weary and still frightened.

“There’s more,” Melissa said, looking at Coryn with a raised eyebrow. The enchantress nodded, and the priestess continued. “Did you drink something called a Red Lotus?”

“Yes,” Selinda replied. “That’s how he knocked me out.”

“There is some danger in that drink. Hale was terrified when he learned you were pregnant.”

“You mean-the drink would hurt the baby?” gasped Selinda. She dropped her head into her hands. “Oh, by Kiri! I didn’t want that! Not like this!”

“I don’t think that’s the issue. I don’t think it would harm the baby. Hale did not strike me as the type to fear someone else’s troubles, and yet he was unquestionably afraid when he learned that you were carrying a child. No, I am worried that it is something even more mysterious. The child might be a danger to others-maybe everyone-or maybe those like Hale, who do wrong. There’s no way to know exactly what the danger is.”

“He wouldn’t say why? Did you ask him?”

“He died before he could tell us,” Coryn said. “I feel certain he was assassinated to keep him from telling any more.”

“I–I don’t care,” Selinda said bravely. “I am going to bring this child into the world and see that he-or she-is raised to know righteousness.”

“What about Jaymes?” asked Coryn. “Do you intend to keep all this a secret from him?”

Selinda lifted her head. She felt her strength flowing back, though whether it was just from the tea or from something else, she didn’t know. Pushing herself to her feet, she found she could stand on her own. It gave her great pleasure to walk to her windows, to throw them open, and to admit the pleasant summer air. Finally, she turned around.

“I will tell him everything… when this crisis is over. I will not burden him with my problems while he wages war to save the nation that we all want to survive.” Her expression hardened. “I know now that he must have deceived me to make me his wife.”

Coryn looked away, almost as if she were ashamed, a reaction that surprised Selinda. But the princess continued to explain.

“And he used me to legitimize his ascension to emperor. I was the Princess of Palanthas after all, and the gods only knew how many prophecies there were proclaiming that the man who married the princess would be the one to unite the cities of Solamnia into a nation again. He used that-and me-to elevate himself, to make himself the leader of a new empire.

“At first, it was a dizzy game to me, and by the time I started to wonder how or why it was happening, it was too late. And even now, I can see that Jaymes has been good for Solamnia, even if he was not good for me.”

Selinda turned and regarded both of her friends, gratitude shining in the emotion of her eyes. “I thank you both sincerely for saving my life. I was a fool-an utter fool-driven by despair. But no longer.”

Coryn was still looking away, so it was Melissa who spoke.

“No longer a fool, or no longer in despair?” asked the priestess pointedly.

“No longer either, I trust,” the emperor’s wife said. “I thought I was reclaiming my life when I broke free from my prison, but just being free isn’t enough.”

Her hand moved to her belly, which she stroked gently. “Jaymes has another campaign to wage-and he is the best hope we have of holding this country together and moving into the future. I don’t love him-you both know that-but I have a duty to this realm. Whether it is because of who I am by birth or who I married, I do have a role to play. I am more than a woman, a daughter, a wife. I am a symbol of Solamnia. However, I will not be his wife anymore-not even in the privacy of our lives. He must know this truth.”

She drew a breath.

“But neither will I betray him,” she said.

Jaymes made his way to the main gate of the city, where the Dark Knights had tried to force their way in. He found the place garrisoned by a mixed force of city guards and Solamnic Knights. They were commanded by an impressive-looking Knight of the Rose named Sir Ballard.

“They attacked here, from the mountain road?” Jaymes asked.

“Yes, my lord. A brigade came down, reportedly from the High Clerist’s Tower. It is said to be in rebel hands, sir.”

“Yes, I’ve heard that too. I’ll be checking on it very shortly. What happened to the brigade?”

“Their leader was killed on this very platform. The rest of the Dark Knights retreated back up the road when they couldn’t gain entrance to the city,” Ballard reported, eyeing the emperor warily. “They almost forced the gate here. One man stopped them-the same man who killed their captain.”

“Who’s that?” asked Jaymes.

“It was me, Excellency,” said Blayne Kerrigan, coming forward into the light. Jaymes immediately recognized the young lord. “I closed the portcullis when I realized the men were Dark Knights. But not before a number of good men, loyal knights, were killed by black magic and treachery.”

“You saved the city of Palanthas from the Dark Knights?” The emperor surprised everyone by throwing back his head and laughing heartily. “But you’re an outlaw!” he declared. “There’s a price on your head!”

“So I have heard. If that be the case, then I submit myself to your justice,” Blayne said stiffly. “To do with as you see fit.”

“As well you may! But I see fit to pardon you, young outlaw. As a matter of fact, I myself have spent more than a few years with a price on my head. It’s good to have it lifted, is it not?”

Blayne allowed himself to smile for the first time, it seemed, in many weeks. “Yes, Excellency,” he agreed. “Yes it is.”