Silverkin

He looked at Laisha and watched her eyes. They were guarded and secretive. She had been trained a long time in Shae politics. He had assumed that the passion of his testimony would be enough. That was clearly not the case. But another idea struck him, the seed of the thought planted by Abtalion himself. The histories of Avisahn.

“I said that I did not bring any proof with me. The proof I need is here in Avisahn—in the records from the Shae watchpost of Jenterhome. Find them. They date back to the fall of Sol-don-Orai. They will document the warding and what was left there. You will read about a plant called the Everoot and what it becomes if abused. Then you will know that everything I have said is true. The Silverkin Crystal is true. The Warding is true. The Everoot is true. Everything I have said is true.”

Laisha looked deep into his eyes. “But why are these truths wrapped in so many shadows?”



*



He slept and then he waited. The confinement was not as foul-smelling and soulless as the dungeon beneath Landmoor. No hissing rats or scuttling roaches. They even brought in a basin with warm water so he could bathe and offered him the privacy to do so. A quaere of Crimson Wolfsmen guarded him, but they were not as angry and scowling as Xenon’s. Trays of cheeses, three-flour bread and raisins, and warm mash with gnerric seeds came regularly to make sure he did not hunger. They even spared a bottle of wine that went well with the mid-day meal. But waiting—endlessly waiting—had already started chafing his thoughts. What was happening down in the Shoreland? What were Allavin Devers and Ticastasy doing? Sturnin had told him, just a short while before his death, that the knights of Owen Draw would be told of the rebellion’s presence in the Shadows Wood. How long would Avisahn wait to get involved? Until the reports returned of Kiran Thall who could not be killed? That Ballinaire himself marched on Dos-Aralon with the brunt of the Shoreland regiment? How long would the debate stall in the Sunedrion? Too many questions. But he had plenty of time to think about them and about how much he missed his family. He had been in Avisahn for several days now—yet no mention had been made of his family and what had happened to them after he left.

After the mid-day meal, he dozed on the pallet for a while, only to be awakened by a Crimson Wolfsman Lor. The ones serving in the palace wore ceremonial tunics made of rich scarlet fabric and edged with green, gold, and white—the colors of the Shae gods.

“Come with us, Quickfellow.”

Thealos rubbed his eyes and rose, massaging his tired knees. “Where are we going?”

The Wolfsman looked at him soberly and said nothing, turning on his heel and expecting Thealos to follow him. Luckily, he had already changed into a fresh shirt and pants and adjusted the ribbed vest and snugged the leather belt to prepare himself. The journey did not take long.

The Queen’s Garden was surrounded by a high wall matted with ivy and he recognized it instantly. The waxy green leaves fluttered as a breeze combed them. Thealos walked beneath a stone arch to enter its shadowed path. Tall plum trees grew on each side—their long silver-gray branches and red leaves screening the sun. Tiny ripe fruit had fallen along the foot-stones. Walking deeper, he saw a sunlit patch of grass and a stone bench near the manor walls and the gurgling fountain. It was quiet, and he tried not to make any noise.

As he stepped into the light, he blinked and looked around. Surrounding the lawn were bright primroses and shorn hedges. The outer wall was a dozen feet high, blotting out all the noises save the wind. It provided the great illusion of tranquility. The quaere escort remained behind by the door leading into the garden.

Laisha smiled at Thealos when she saw him, and he felt his heart jump a little. He had not expected to find her in the gardens waiting for him. She wore a stunning blue gown and her seawater eyes were bright and thoughtful. “Walk with me,” she said.

“If you wish.”

They walked out towards the wall along a flower-laden trail. Bees hovered and buzzed, and the plum leaves breathed. Their feet crumpled the grass, but it sprung back up as they stepped away. Laisha fidgeted with a sapphire ring on her finger. “It is very peaceful here, isn’t it? I come here when I need to get away from people. I come here every morning with Abtalion to discuss the day. When it isn’t raining, of course.”

Thealos nodded, trying to hear past her words. It must be a difficult thing, he thought, balancing the demands of her rank. “I am honored to join you.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not.”

“Good, then I will enjoy your company,” she said, smiling. “My mother commissioned this garden—I think every Queen of Avisahn has changed it from the one before. She planted the plum trees here and along the wall over there.” She pointed as it came into view. “But as tranquil as this garden is, the walls make it confining. As if peace were only possible behind a layer of stone. Do you understand what I mean?”

“You are far too subtle for me, Laisha.”

She looked at him, a devious smile spreading across her mouth. “Only last night you called me na?ve.”