“What do you want to know?” Azashy gasped her eyes riveted on the dagger. Her expression was equal parts fear and self-loathing.
“I want to know all sorts of things, but for now we will suffice with just a few minor details. Sovaesh is no longer a viable blade at my disposal, and Hemlock has his own agenda, but we will get to that. Tell me who is a knife that I can trust to send against my enemies?” Faramir settled back into her chair without bothering to move the dagger out of Azashy’s reach. Apparently she saw no threat in her prisoner at all.
Azashy mumbled a few words under her breath and her eyes grew distant. Her head lolled to one side for several breaths before her lips began to move again. “Niamh of the Nightblades, heartless and nearly as skilled as the Master she serves.” Her voice was distant and seemed to echo as if composed of several voices rather than just her own.
“How well guarded is Elijah Arovan?” Faramir asked without pausing to consider the answer she had been given on her first question.
“He is surrounded by those that are loyal and love him. Troyelle is at his beckon call with swords ready to defend as well as the Blackwolf who always remains nearby his side. To reach Elijah you must defeat the Stormlord as well as the High Lord of Glis.” Azashy answered without hesitation in the same eerie voice.
“What is the next step that Jala Merrodin will take?” Faramir pressed once more without pause.
“She will bind the Blights to her side as allies and take that power from your hands.” Azashy’s voice was growing strained and her eyes were rolling back in her head as she spoke.
“How?” Faramir demanded. If she noticed the woman’s discomfort she showed no signs and seemed intent on gathering as much information as she possibly could.
“An envoy has carried her message of peace and has been given a task in response. When his task is complete the Blights will be hers.” Azashy’s voice was hoarse and she appeared to be trembling. Remedy watched in silence as a bead of sweat trickled down the woman’s face. He wasn’t sure what magic she was using for her information, but it wasn’t scrying and it seemed too precise to be divination.
“Who is her envoy? What task?” Faramir growled and leaned forward on the table once more her eyes intent on Azashy.
“Shade…Morcaillo…he…must…” Azashy’s voice faltered with each word and she gave a shudder as she sagged forward in her chair. Her breathing was labored and she was shaking. Slowly a choking laugh began to rise from her and she shakily lifted her head to meet Myth’s gaze. “I’m afraid you will have to wait for that information Myth. You have pushed me too far today. Were conditions different I could offer you more, but you are too intent on keeping me weakened so you must deal with the consequences.” Her voice was a bare whisper, but it was filled with bitter amusement.
“Worthless bitch.” Faramir growled as she rose from her chair and snatched the dagger from the table. With another glare at Azashy she stormed across the room toward the hidden panel.
“Irony that it is your son that will undo you.” Azashy gasped as the panel slid open.
“No one will undo me Azashy. This world will burn and I will be free of this prison. I promise you that.” Faramir hissed as she disappeared through the tunnel.
Remedy watched her go, but remained where he was as the panel slid shut behind her. It was possible that the wall wouldn’t open for anyone aside from Myth, but he was curious about Azashy. She was obviously an unwilling ally, and it was possible that very thing made her the only one in the palace he could trust to help him. It would require watching her though, and learning more of her before he trusted her enough to reveal himself. He just had to pray he had the time to spare for it. Things in the world beyond were falling far faster than he liked, and he wasn’t sure there was still time to save anything.
Chapter 4
Merro
“Are you sure you want to sell her?” Valor asked quietly as he leaned against the paddock gate and watched the bay mare within. He was dressed simply today in light linen trousers and a thin work shirt. A stranger approaching would never guess he was the second most powerful person in Merro by the way he looked. A stem of grass hung out of one corner of his mouth, and his attention seemed entirely devoted to the mare, as if nothing beyond the stable yard was a concern of his.
Zoelyn shifted beside him and lowered her chin to rest on the rail of the fence. She didn’t really want to sell the mare, but the horse would have a good home with Valor and she knew it. He was Arovan, and Arovan prized their horses. If she had any hope of making it to Delvay she would need the money, and she could no longer stand to remain in Merro. “I know you will care for her well Valor.” She sighed and nodded with obvious hesitation. “So yes she is for sale if you want her.”