Part 4 (1/2)

Faldain wrapped himself around Tobeszijian's leg and would not turn it loose. When Suchin knelt beside the little prince and tried to pry his hands away so he could put gloves on the boy's hands and boots on his small feet, Faldain let out a mighty screech of rage and clung even harder.

Thiatereika, looking adorable in a cloak of blue velvet trimmed with ermine, her hair now tied back with a ribbon, and dainty fur-lined boots on her feet, went running off into the playroom. ”Thia,” Tobeszijian called after her. ”Stay here.”

”I want my Su-Su,” she said stubbornly.

He had no idea what she was talking about, and let her go. Suchin was still on his knees, struggling to exchange Faldain's slippers for boots. The boy was resisting, kicking his feet and turning red-faced with anger. ”No!” he shouted.

Tobeszijian was a man who waged wars, decreed policy, feasted, and hunted. He played with his children more than did many men or kings, but until now he'd had no idea what was entailed in putting clothing on a squirming, rebellious child. To his eyes, it looked as difficult as bridling a wild horse. ”In Thod's name, hurry, man,” he said impatiently to Suchin. ”They'll need a change of clothing as well.”

”Aye, sire,” Suchin said breathlessly as he succeeded in getting the second boot on. Faldain rolled onto his stomach and began crawling away as fast as he could. Tobeszijian let Suchin chase the child and instead went to one of the cupboards and opened it. He pulled out items of clothing at random, surprised at how small they were, and how finely made. Frowning, Tobeszijian looked in vain for st.u.r.dy clothing suitable for travel. Had they no hardspun, no leggings, no - ”Here, sire,” Suchin said, reappearing with two cups of eldin silver and necklaces of ribbon twisted with gold wire from which pendants of bard crystal hung.

Tobeszijian's frown deepened. ”We cannot be hampered by frippery. St.u.r.dy clothing, man! Quickly!”

”They have none, sire.” Suchin pressed the cups into Tobeszijian's hands. ”But these the queen held important. I'll be quick.”

Faldain headed off into the playroom in search of Thiatereika, calling ”Ei, ei, ei!” as loud as he could.

Tobeszijian stared, marveling at how quickly they seemed to forget the danger they'd just survived.

The cups he held were of excellent crafting, engraved with flowers and the faces of animals, but they were of no use to him. He tossed them on the floor while Suchin stuffed items into a small cloak that he twisted into an ill-made bundle. Thiatereika appeared in the doorway, her eyes enormous. ”My papa!”

she called, whimpering. She was clutching a dirty rag doll to her chest. ”Su-Su is scared. My papa, come!”

Suchin hurried over to her, slipping one of the bard crystal pendants over her head and tucking it beneath her cloak. She twisted away from him and stamped her foot.

”My papa!” she shouted. ”Come!”

Tobeszijian went to her and put his large hand on her curls. ”Hush, sweet. We're going in just a moment.”

She s.h.i.+ed away from his hand and began to cry, pointing at the other room. Puzzled by what could upset her in there when the dead men in the hallway had not made her blink, Tobeszijian looked inside the playroom. He saw smoke curling out through the front grille of the yellow and blue tiled stove standing in one corner. The nursery was normally a sunny place, with walls painted in shades of yellow, green, and pink. Painted vines and animals and cherubs adorned the ceiling and climbed down the corners of the walls. Strangely, the air felt icy cold, as though all the windows had been thrown open and the fire in thestove had gone out. But even if the latter had happened, the stove should have continued to radiate stored heat for a long time. The smoke was still pouring out, curling straight down to the floor and toward the doorway, where Tobeszijian stood, staring at it. It flowed around his ankles, and he felt immediately chilled to the bone. He stepped back quickly, and realized then that it wasn't smoke at all, but instead a black mist that roiled and curled and seemed to be searching for something. He saw it pause at the doorway near him. Tendrils of the stuff curled up as though exploring, then flowed on through the room in a straight line, aiming itself at the corridor where the corpses lay.

Wide-eyed, Tobeszijian stared at it, suddenly breathing harder than when he'd been fighting. There was more of the mist now, filling the doorway and curling around his ankles again. He retreated a second time, then glimpsed Faldain standing inside the center of the playroom next to the mist. Sucking his thumb, the child stared solemnly at the murky flow of evil.

Tobeszijian's heart lurched in his chest. Pus.h.i.+ng Thiatereika back against the wall, he waded through the mist, wincing as his feet seemed to freeze inside his boots. He grabbed Faldain up and carried him out of the playroom. By the time he'd stepped out of the mist again he was shuddering violently, and gritted his teeth to keep from moaning at the pain.

Suchin wailed his prayers and backed against the tall, square bed that the children shared. He drew a circle on his chest with a shaking hand. The mist flowed through the bedchamber, curling away from where the silver cups lay on the floor. For Tobeszijian, this confirmed the mist's evil. Nonkind could not cross running water. It could not touch salt or eldin silver, the purest grade possible. He wondered who was directing the mist, and why. Was it Bork, the Believer out in the guardhouse? Or were other Gantese agents lurking in the many pa.s.sages of the palace?

Dry-mouthed, Tobeszijian realized he could not tarry here much longer. Clearly something out there sensed that Nereisse was dead. She must have been protecting the household, holding these forces back with the last remnants of her waning strength.

Premonition crawled across the back of Tobeszijian's neck, making him s.h.i.+ver. He gestured at Suchin, then caught sight of the bundle in the servant's hands and realized it would not do.

He went to Thiatereika and stripped off her cloak. ”That bundle, quickly!” he said.

With a puzzled look, Suchin opened it. Tobeszijian pulled out a gown lined with the softest belly fur of snow-hare. He yanked it down over Thiatereika's head, pulling her arms through the sleeves while she protested in a m.u.f.fled voice. When her head popped through the neck, she was scowling.

”I can put on my clothes by myself!” she declared.

Not paying attention, Tobeszijian crammed another gown on over her clothing. It was a tight fit, and she fussed about it until Tobeszijian snapped his fingers at her in admonition. He tied her cloak back on and drew up her hood firmly to conceal both her hair and her pointed ears. Her face was streaked with tears, and her eyes looked tired and puffy. Already this morning she'd been through too much. His heart ached with the knowledge that he must submit her to a great deal more.

By now Suchin had succeeded in wrestling an extra pair of hosen and another tunic onto Faldain, who was fighting him about the boots again. Tobeszijian helped the old man, holding Faldain still so Suchin could finish dressing him. Suchin slipped the second bard crystal necklace around Faldain's chubby neck and tucked it inside his tunics. ”For luck, little prince,” the old man whispered.

”I'm hot, my papa,” Thiatereika declared. She waved her rag doll. ”Su-Su is hot too. I don't want to wear this-” Tobeszijian scooped her into his arms along with Faldain, settling a child on each hip, and headed out, with Suchin crowding his heels. The mist filled the entire corridor in front of the nursery.

Suchin whimpered with fear. ”There is no way to avoid wading through it, sire.” ”Wait,” Tobeszijian commanded. Juggling children, he drew his sword and plunged the tip of Mirengard into the black mist.

The blade glowed white and silver. The mist parted, curling swiftly away from the steel. Quickly, Tobeszijian walked through.

Behind him, Suchin cried out and stumbled, then barreled past Tobeszijian. ”The evil is with us,” Suchin wailed, running toward the stairs. ”The evil is here!” Thiatereika began to whimper, and Tobeszijian glared at the old man. ”Be quiet, you fool!” he said.

Suchin fell as silent as if he'd been strangled.

The mist as yet seemed to have taken no notice of the living. It headed for the two corpses lying on the b.l.o.o.d.y carpet and began to twist and coil about them. When a column of roiling darkness started rising from the back of the nearest body, Tobeszijian's eyes widened in horror.

He could feel the tingle on his skin and the crawly, itching sensation that told him magic was being used.

Yet darkness was not supposed to be able to enter the palace like this. There were safeguards and spell locks designed to protect it. But Nereisse was dead, and the Chalice was gone. What remained to power the spell locks?

He was thinking like a fool, refusing to accept what was being demonstrated before him. He remembered his promise to himself that Muncel would not get away with this. And now in his heart he made it a vow. Muncel would not win. Tobeszijian swore it on the hilt of his sword, on the heads of his frightened children, and on the memory of his dead wife.

When the corpse that still had its head twitched and began to climb to its feet, Thiatereika screamed, and Suchin wailed.

Tobeszijian turned around and headed down the stairs, his children in his arms.

He was not going to waste time fighting Nonkind.

The war had begun. He had lost the first skirmish, but Tobeszijian had never lost a war yet and did not intend to now.

”Hush, my children,” he murmured to Faldain and Thiatereika. ”You must be brave now. You must not cry.”

They clung to him in fear, knowing instinctively that everything around them was wrong. Until today he had never heard Thiatereika cry except in temper. His children had known no unkindness, no fear, no distress. And he hated Muncel for ending their innocence so cruelly.

Suchin trotted at his heels, glancing back apprehensively over his shoulder as though he expected the animated corpse to come after them at any minute. ”Sire,” he said worriedly, his old voice shaking. ”Sire, what is to become of us?” At the bottom of the stairs, Tobeszijian stopped and juggled Faldain in hisarms so he could put a hand on the old man's shoulder. ”Suchin, you have been a true and faithful servant,” he said, gazing down into the old man's tear-s.h.i.+ny eyes. ”I free you from service, you and Gilda both. I ask only one last favor of you.”

Suchin bowed his head, weeping openly now. ”Anything, sire.” Tobeszijian swallowed hard to clear the lump from his throat. ”Bury my sweet lady in the grove that she loved so well. Make it a simple resting place, hidden. The eldin will find her when they come, but tell no one else where she lies.”

Suchin nodded, still weeping and unable to look up.

Tobeszijian gripped his shoulder harder until the old man raised his eyes. ”Thank you,” Tobeszijian said, taking the children's bundle from the servant's arms. ”Farewell.”

He strode away, and Suchin came scurrying after him like a dog that will not be parted from its master.

”Wait, sire!” he called. ”Will you not come back to us? Is the kingdom truly fallen?”

Tobeszijian's mouth set itself in a grim line. ”I go to fight for it,” he said. ”How it shall come out, I will know not until I can learn who still calls me liege.”

Hoisting Thiatereika and Faldain higher in his arms, he strode out, pa.s.sing the door to his dead wife's chamber with only the slightest falter in his step. Forgive me, my lady, for leaving you like this, he thought, and glanced back at Suchin. ”Don't let the Nonkind take her,” he said.

”No, sire,” Suchin said in a small, frightened voice. He stared at Tobeszijian helplessly. ”After we do as you have commanded, where will we go? What will become of us? Will you come back?”

Tobeszijian realized the old man thought he was running away, fleeing to save himself. Anger and hurt pierced Tobeszijian, and he whirled around. ”Nether is mine!” he said, his voice ringing out loudly. ”I do not desert my kingdom; this, I do swear.”