The Phoenix Guards Read online

  “Eh? I declare it, I affirm it, and I will even fight on that basis.”

  “You have no knowledge of how you have offended me?”

  “I know how you have offended me, and that is quite sufficient, I assure you.”

  “Not at all.”

  “How, not?”

  “Because, as it is my intention to kill you, I wish you to be entirely clear on why you are about to die.”

  “Well,” said G’aereth, lowering his own sword, “that is only right, and if you wish to tell me, well, I will listen.”

  “Very well. I refer to certain words you have spoken about me of an extremely personal, I should even say, intimate nature.”

  G’aereth grunted, as if to say, “I remain entirely ignorant.”

  “Then,” said Jenicor, “you deny having made any such remarks?”

  “I do.”

  “It is odd,” said she, “for of all that I have ever heard of you, no one, even your enemies (for you must be aware, my lord, that you have some), has spoken of you as anything but a loyal and honest gentleman.”

  “That is my hope, my lady.”

  “But consider,” she said, “is there nothing you might have said, even to an intimate?”

  “Your name has never come up in my presence except in the highest terms.”

  “But, perhaps you were drunk.”

  “I do not drink.”

  Jenicor lowered her sword the rest of the way and her frown deepened. “My lord, I mislike mystery when it is a matter of someone’s life.”

  “Well, as do I. How should we make things right?”

  Jenicor said, “Allow me to approach you.”

  “Very well. For what reason?”

  “To whisper in your ear the slanders I have been informed of, and which I do not wish to spread.”

  “I await you then.”

  “Well, I am approaching.”

  “I will listen.”

  “Here it is, then.”

  Jenicor whispered to G’aereth, whose eyes grew wide, while a flush spread over his countenance. “My lady,” he cried at last, “such words never came from me, I swear it by the Orb.”

  “Well, but then—”

  “From whose mouth did you get such things?”

  “Why, from a Guardsman named Thack, who thought to take advantage of these supposed characteristics.”

  “Well, and where is he now?”

  “Oh, he is recovering. I stopped short of slaying him that I might question him and learn where his ideas of me came from.”

  “And he said?”

  “They came from you.”

  “But I have never even met him.”

  “How, not met him? A Dragonlord with light hair and thin brows, who carries a rose in his collar and has a baldrick with gold trim, and walks as if there were stones in the toes of his boots?”

  “I have never even seen this man.”

  “Well, but then, even wounded and near death, he lied to me?”

  “He must have, or else he was deceived.”

  “Well, I will speak with him again, I think.”

  “If you will do me the honor to allow me to accompany you, well, I think it appropriate that I be there, as it concerns me closely.”

  “I am in complete agreement,” said Jenicor. “And while I don’t think our seconds will be needed any longer, still if the lady Lytra will do us the honor to accompany us, it may be that some good will come of it, for, as Warlord, she can hardly be uninterested in any matters concerning her command.”

  “I am in full agreement,” said Lytra, “and, to help resolve this issue, would follow you beneath the sea.”

  “So much the better, then,” said Jenicor, “that you need only follow us for a few leagues.”

  Allistar indicated an interest the proceedings, and no one made any objections. As for Diesep, he indicated that he had no need to see the matter played out, and so, with courteous words on both sides, he walked out of the pavilion and out of our history.

  Without wasting time, then, these worthies left the Dragon Wing and followed the Street of the Dragon to the Street of the Six Towers, and so came to a small house in the Coronet district where, after gaining admittance, they were brought to the sickbed of the Guardsman called Thack.

  Now, he was in a bad way, for if the offended Jenicor had stopped short of killing him, she had done so by only the narrowest of margins. He had, then, been given a cut in the forehead, one on either leg, and had received a good thrust through the body, as a result of which almost all of his blood had been lost. He had been attended by doctors both medical and sorcerous, which is why he was still alive, and was even, scarcely a day after being wounded, pronounced out of danger by the sorcerer; but he still slept most of the time.

  The coalescence of aristocracy clustered around the sickbed and, by tapping earnestly on Thack’s forehead, in order to bring about the circulation of blood to his brain, succeeded in waking him, upon which he evidently thought he was dreaming, for he smiled at most of the faces around him, grimaced upon seeing Jenicor, and settled himself once more among his pillows.

  Lytra said, “Cavalier Thack, I bid you wake and have speech with us.”

  Upon hearing this voice, Thack opened his eyes once more, startled, then seemed to shake his head and blink his eyes several times, as if he expected the visions before him to dissolve into the dream fabric from which he evidently thought they had emerged. When the phantasmata failed to behave as expected, he opened his mouth, gagged, swallowed, and said, “Is Your Excellency really here?”

  “We are all here,” said Lytra.

  “Well, that is, forgive me if I do not rise, but, you perceive, I am confined to this cursed bed.”

  “Yes, we know you have been wounded,” said Lytra.

  “But then, may I ask the reason for this visit?”

  “No,” said G’aereth sternly, “it is for us to put the questions to you, young man.”

  From this answer, Thack perceived that the matter was serious, and there was no question of joking; and in his weakened state it was almost more than he could endure, but he rallied and said, “Well, I will do my best to answer; the more honestly since the doctor says my life is still at stake, and I have no wish to pass over Deathgate Falls, if such is my fate, with a lie fresh upon my lips.”

  “That is wise,” said Lytra, “and we ask nothing better. Indeed, it may be that, should you live, only the truth will now save you from disgrace.”

  Thack swallowed heavily and said, “Then ask your questions, for I am ready, and I will attempt to satisfy you before I faint again. Ah, curse this weakness! My lady,” he added to Jenicor, “when you give wounds, well, you don’t stop at half measures. I declare that I have never been more effectually pierced.”

  Jenicor, though somewhat moved to pity by the condition of the wounded man, was still angry from the insult she had received, and so she bowed to acknowledge the compliment, but said nothing.

  “To begin, then,” said G’aereth, “you had certain information concerning the character of this lady, Jenicor e’Terics.”

  “Well, but it seems the information was wrong.”

  “So that?”

  “So that I no longer hold the opinion I used to hold concerning her disposition.”

  “That is well,” said G’aereth. “But, we are anxious to learn how you came to be misinformed?”

  Thack, insofar as he could, frowned. “Will your lordship permit me to speak freely?”

  “We will more than permit it,” said G’aereth. “I even think we require it.”

  “Then I will tell you.”

  “Well?”

  “It was from your lordship, Captain.”

  Jenicor turned her gaze fiercely on the astounded Captain, who said, “How, from me?”

  “Yes, exactly.”

  “From my own lips?”

  “Well, I did not hear it myself, but it was told to me as coming from your lordship.”

  �
�Well, that is an entirely different matter.”

  “Not at all,” said Thack. “I was given to understand it in the most definite terms.”

  “And yet,” said the Captain, looking at Jenicor. “We have never met, have we?”

  “No, I have never had that honor until now.”

  “So, someone told you that I had said these things?”

  “Yes, indeed.”

  “Well, and who was that person?”

  “Oh, as to that, I cannot say.”

  “How, cannot say?”

  “I truly regret it, your lordship, because I see plainly that you want to know.”

  “I more than want to, I demand to,” cried G’aereth.

  “And yet, orders—”

  “Orders? And by whom were these famous orders issued?”

  “By my Captain, Lanmarea.”

  “She told you not to tell me the name of the individual who had slandered the Lady Jenicor?”

  “Yes. Well, we were ordered not to reveal the names of the prisoners.”

  “Prisoners!” said G’aereth and Lytra together.

  “Well, yes, those we had arrested.”

  “What is this?” said Lytra. “You have made an arrest?”

  “Well, I am a Guardsman,” said Thack. “It is my duty, when ordered, to make arrests.”

  “And you were further ordered not to reveal the names of those you arrested?”

  “You have understood exactly. I—ah,” he stopped for a moment, overcome with pain or fatigue, then said, “I beg forgiveness of your lordships. Yes, yes, that was it; we were to perform these arrests, and make sure none of the arrested had any communication with anyone, and we were not to reveal the names or identities, or even the Houses of those we arrested.”

  “Well, the numbers, then?” said Lytra.

  “Oh, as to that, nothing was said, so I may tell your Excellency that there were four gentleman, two ladies, and a lackey.”

  “How, a lackey?” said Lytra, frowning.

  “So he seemed to be, Excellency,” said Thack.

  Somehow, as is sometimes the case when someone presents a surprising detail, this served to increase rather than to diminish the credibility of his tale.

  “But,” said G’aereth, “you may not reveal their names?”

  “I regret to repeat it to your lordship. And, moreover, with the exception of the one who gave me this advice, which now appears to me not so good as it did two days ago, I do not even know who they were.”

  “Two days ago?” said G’aereth. “That is when you made these arrests?”

  “Exactly.”

  “But then,” said Lytra, “who gave this infamous order?”

  “Why, Lanmarea, none other.”

  “So, then, if she were to order you to tell me this name, you would do so?”

  “Gladly, Excellency.”

  “Well, you perceive, do you not, that I am her commander?”

  “Oh, that is clear enough.”

  “So, then, if I were to give her an order, she would obey, would she not?”

  “Well, I nearly think so, Excellency.”

  “Then, if I were to give you an order, that would have as much force as if she had given it, would it not?”

  “Even more, I think, Excellency.”

  “Very well. Tell me the name, and do so at once.”

  Thack stared. “How, Your Excellency commands me to do so?”

  “Exactly, and at once.”

  “This is, then, an order?”

  “It is, and one that I do not care to do myself the honor of repeating.”

  Thack considered this, then said, “Well, it seems I must capitulate.”

  “That’s best,” said G’aereth. “Believe me.”

  “I will tell you then.”

  “Do so,” said Lytra in tone that allowed for no discussion.

  “This is it, then: I do not know his House, but his name is Pel.”

  There came a gasp from Jenicor, while G’aereth started. “Pel?” he said.

  “So he called himself.”

  “And was he a Guardsman?”

  “Well, he seemed to be, although his cloak, while it had the color and insignia, was not of regulation cut.”

  “And,” said G’aereth, “was he of rather small build, although well proportioned?”

  “And,” said Jenicor, “with fine, delicate hands?”

  “A firm gait upon his horse?”

  “Deep black eyes?”

  “Wearing a light sword of the Neobi style, with a dueler’s grip and a ruby set into the hilt?”

  “And a nervous smile?”

  “A complexion as dark. as a Jhegaala’s?”

  “Manners that are at once gentle and sensuous?”

  “Well,” said Thack to both of them, “you have described him exactly, although—”

  “Yes?” said Jenicor.

  “I had not remarked his smile.”

  “What?” cried G’aereth. “Pel has been arrested?”

  “You know him, then?” said Lytra.

  “I think so; he is one of my regiment, and not the least able.”

  “And,” said Lytra to Thack, “you do not know on what charge he was arrested?”

  “I assure you, my lady, I have no idea at all.”

  “Well,” said G’aereth, “my way is clear, and that is to see His Majesty.”

  “For my part,” said Lytra, “I will accompany you.”

  Allistar, who had been listening to the conversation carefully, shifted uncomfortably and seemed about to speak, but then evidently thought better of it.

  Suddenly Jenicor, who had been deep in thought, burst out laughing.

  “Well?” said Lytra.

  “Ah, Excellency, it is too droll. I understand everything now.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes, indeed. Come, my friends, we have no more business here. And as for you, my lord,” she said, addressing Thack, “I assure you that you have my complete pardon.”

  “How, you pardon me?”

  “I do, and more, I wish you a quick and complete recovery.”

  “You are too kind, my lady.”

  “Not at all, my friend, not at all.”

  While she spoke, Allistar, who had said nothing the entire time, took Lytra aside and spoke to her for some few minutes in a quiet tone, during which time the Warlord’s countenance turned dark. At the conclusion of the conversation, she shrugged, as if to say, “It is now out of my hands,” after which they rejoined G’aereth and proceeded from the house.

  As for Jenicor, she remarked, looking into the distance as if speaking to someone who wasn’t present, “Ah, Cavalier, you are truly a Yendi.”

  Chapter the Thirty-third

  In Which our Friends

  Spend some Time in Prison

  AT THIS TIME, AS LYTRA, Jenicor, and G’aereth leave the ailing Guardsman, we will turn our attention once more to those personages whom we have so patiently followed across the continent and back.

  Aerich and Khaavren had been given the same cell, and Khaavren, who was convinced that Pel’s idea, whatever it was, would bear fruit, was attempting to remain as calm as Aerich, who was placidly crocheting. We would be less than honest if we allowed our readers to infer that Khaavren was to any degree successful at this. First, he walked the length of his cell in that activity which has been the prerogative of prisoners as long as the class has existed. Then he studied the cell, which had two small windows high on the wall.

  “Aerich,” he said.

  “Well?”

  “Could either of us fit through those windows?”

  The Lyorn glanced at them. “No, and, moreover, they are barred.”

  “Well, I’m just as glad we have been given a room with windows anyway.”

  “It is because we are gentleman.”

  “Suppose we were princes?”

  “Then we’d be a floor higher.”

  “Well, and?”

  “And we would
not only have windows, but they would be placed so we could see out of them.”

  “Well, I understand. But what of poor Mica?”

  “He doubtless has no window at all.”

  “Cha! This is intolerable.”

  “Well, didn’t you tell me yourself that our friend Pel had a plan?”

  “Yes, or so he pretended to me.”

  “Then we need only wait.”

  “Wait, by the Orb! Wait! How I loathe waiting!”

  Aerich shrugged.

  Khaavren continued to pace and wonder, but, as Aerich is truly as calm as he seems, and Khaavren is imbibing hope of release with every breath, let us pass on.

  Tazendra was in the same cell as Kathana, because it was the custom of the time to separate prisoners, first by class, and afterwards according to sex, and finally by the type of crime. Since the governor of the prison had not been informed of what crime these gentlesouls were accused, he at least knew enough to put them together.

  Tazendra had at once sat down on one of the straw pallets, crossed her legs, and frowned mightily. Kathana’s first action was to request a visit from the jailer, a small Iorich named Guinn. “Did your ladyship do me the honor to summon me?” he asked with a bow.

  “Oh, summon,” said Kathana. “That is too strong a word. I merely asked that you might attend me for a moment.”

  “Well, it’s all the same,” said Guinn, who seemed, nevertheless, pleased with the courtesy. “If there is something that I, in my capacity as host, can do to make your stay here more pleasant, why, insofar as it lies within my ability and does not conflict with my duties, I will do it.”

  “Well,” said Kathana, “since you make such a frank and generous offer, I will be equally frank in accepting it.”

  “I ask nothing better,” said the jailer, who was, moreover, becoming curious. We should say that Tazendra was as well, for she stared in amazement at this powerful Dragonlord who was speaking in such friendly terms to the Iorich.

  “Well then, I have called you over that I might find out the terms of imprisonment.”

  “That is only right,” said the jailer. “They are: no communication with anyone outside, or even anyone inside, with the exception of your host;” here he bowed to indicate himself.

  “Very well, pass on.”

  “With that understanding, no paper or writing utensils are to be permitted.”