Rebellion

CHAPTER 75

“The — the envoys have returned, Chancellor,” stammered his aide, from the door.

Tali and the chancellor were in the great dame’s chambers, which he had appropriated, by a blazing fire.

“Then send them in. What did Grandys say?”

“Th-there’s a m-message,” said the aide. His arms hung low, his feet dragged.

“What is it, damn you?”

The aide opened a brown sack and dumped the contents on the chancellor’s gleaming table. “This.”

The severed heads of the chancellor’s three envoys rolled halfway across and stopped, their clouded eyes staring at him.

Tali recoiled. The chancellor let out a strangled gasp.

“What’s Grandys saying?” said Tali, turning so she would not have to look at the heads, which had been severed a good few days ago and were past their best.

“I should have thought that was obvious.”

“Not to me.”

“It means that he, unlike every other foe I’ve ever dealt with, is utterly unpredictable. How can I fight such a man? I’ve no idea what he’ll do next.”

“I don’t know.” And Rix was in the hands of this monster, unable to help himself.

The chancellor’s sardonic eye turned to her, as if he had read her thought. “How could Rixium have gone off with the man? How could he be so weak-willed?” He spat into the fire.

In the shadows behind him, Tali saw Glynnie stiffen. The chancellor had taken her on because she was the perfect maidservant, but if he could have seen the look in her eyes now he might have thought otherwise. Was she grieving for Rix, Tali wondered, or burning for him?

He cleared his throat, pointedly. Rix’s betrayal was a theme the chancellor kept returning to, like a dog to a bone he’d gnawed all the meat off but could not let go.

“Grandys ensorcelled him,” said Tali, wishing the chancellor would have the severed heads removed. “You know that.”

“But for Grandys to do it so easily, surely Rix must have wanted it, subconsciously?”

“What if the enchantment on Maloch wasn’t protecting Rix for himself,” said Tali, “but because of the connection to Grandys?”

The chancellor started, and so did Glynnie, though she recovered quickly and stepped further back into the shadows.

“How do you mean?” said the chancellor.

“Did Maloch deliberately lead Rix to Precipitous Crag so he could attack the wrythen, terrorise Lyf with the reappearance of the sword that had cut his feet off, and weaken him from fear? Did Maloch direct Rix to Garramide so he’d paint the mural of the opalised man from images Maloch had previously shown him? A mural that would call Rix to recover Grandys’ petrified body from the Abysm.”

“Are you suggesting all this was foreordained?” said the chancellor.

“Not foreordained. But I do think there’s a malign purpose at work, and it comes from the enchantment on the sword.”

“Which makes this just the latest step in a two-thousand-year-old battle.”

“Lady Ricinus gave Maloch to Rix and told him to wear it, but he disliked the sword on sight,” said Tali. “Perhaps he sensed the magery in it. And the moment he strapped it on, he must have come under its influence. What if his great-aunt didn’t sent it to Rix as an innocent gift, but in the hope that it would influence him to bring Grandys back?”

In the shadows, Glynnie drew in a long, hissing breath. The chancellor’s dark brows knitted.

“If you’re right, the sword was never protecting Rix for himself, but only for what he could do for its master.”

“How are you going to save him?” Glynnie’s face was twisted in anguish.

“Save Rixium?” barked the chancellor. “I’ve already condemned the swine twice. I hope Grandys puts him down like the Herovian dog he is.”

“No, you don’t,” said Tali.

“Why the hell not?”

“Because Rix may be the only one who can save us from Grandys.”

“Right now I’m more concerned about saving us from Lyf. Now get out!”

Tali went.

Given the way the peace conference had ended, Lyf must feel more embittered than ever, and more convinced that Hightspall had planned the breach of the safe conduct to bring Grandys there. What would Lyf do? He must be watching the news of his old enemy’s progress with alarm, perhaps terror.

Was he planning a great new campaign? Or thinking that, before the worst happened, he had better secure his people’s ultimate refuge, Cython? Either way, Lyf must also be giving thought to the Pale, and whether he could allow them to remain at the heart of his empire.

Their doom, she felt sure, was coming ever closer. She had to find out what Lyf was up to, and there was only one way to do that. Despite the risk, she would have to spy on him again.