Текст книги "Inherited Danger"

Автор книги: Brian Rathbone

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Текущая страница: 19 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

Chapter 22

Darkness, no matter how powerful it may seem, can be driven back by the tiniest spark.

– -unknown soldier

***

"There is perhaps a way you could travel safely to Adderhold, but I doubt very much you will like it. Before I tell you what it is, there are some things you must know."

Catrin wasn't certain she wanted to hear what her grandmother had to say, for fear of more bad news.

"When the Zjhon forces attacked us, I knew we could not resist. If we had, we would've lost far too many of our good subjects. Instead, I negotiated terms that would allow the subjects of Mundleboro to remain mostly unmolested, though under Zjhon rule. In truth, the Zjhon did not wish to depose us; they simply insisted we adopt their religion and support the efforts to spread the teachings of their Church. It wasn't something we wished for, but it was far less disruptive than a full-scale invasion would've been; thus, we surrendered.

"The conditions of our surrender were unpleasant, and we still lost a large number of able-bodied men to conscription, but for the most part, life went on as it had before. This kept the majority of our subjects happy, and they paid the increased taxes with little protest. Things have changed since then, though. Now the Zjhon are demanding higher taxes and something far more sinister. They've demanded a marriage between the Mangst and Kyte families. While they claim the move is intended to strengthen both lands and reduce border conflicts, it'll surely weaken Mundleboro and Lankland alike."

Darkness clouded the periphery of Catrin's vision, and flecks of light danced before her eyes as the words sank in. A less desirable union she could not imagine.

"Your cousin Lissa is to wed the youngest grandson of Arbuckle Kyte, but she has defied me. I've no idea where she is hiding. This is another reason I was so wroth when you arrived. I make no excuses, mind you; I simply need you to understand the dire circumstances that we find ourselves in.

"If Lissa is not within Adderhold by the appointed time, our family will forfeit our hold on these lands. The Zjhon will descend upon us, and there is little we can do to stop them. The only solution I can find is to send you in her stead."

The words were like a blow to Catrin's stomach, and the air left her lungs with a whoosh. She attempted to respond several times, but her tongue refused to form the words. Benjin appeared as dumbstruck as Catrin, his jaw hanging slack.

"You wish me to marry into the family that murdered my mother and both my aunts?" she asked finally.

"I've not asked it of you. I said it was the only solution that I've been able to find. I know you have no reason to love the people of Mundleboro, but it seems their fate lies with you, as your blood right would have dictated anyway. You have the opportunity to make this sacrifice for them, and they would love you for it. But, again, I don't ask it of you. This is something you'll have to take on willingly, for I'll not force your hand."

"If Catrin traveled under the guise of Lissa, we would be granted access to Adderhold, which is our main goal, and that would put us far closer to the statue than we would have been able to achieve on our own. Perhaps this is a boon, li'l miss," Benjin said, appearing thoughtful.

"Have you lost your senses?" Catrin asked, appalled that he would even consider it. She had no wish to be married, let alone to one of her family's mortal enemies. However, while she knew nothing of the people of Mundleboro, she did feel responsible for their safety, if for no other reason than because she felt her mother would have wanted to spare the innocent. She'd been a kind and loving woman, and Catrin could not imagine her leaving thousands to die when it was within her power to save them, but the thought of sacrificing herself made her physically ill.

"Don't feel pressured to make your decision now, dear, but the appointed day is rushing toward us, and by the new moon, we must either comply or prepare for war. I've considered offering myself up, but I have already been married, and they would surely decline. Unless Lissa finds it in her heart to return, I'm afraid we have no other options. Millie, please bring Catrin a calming elixir, she looks as if she's going to faint."

Indeed, Catrin found it difficult to remain upright as she was faced with responsibilities she'd never imagined. She was but a simple farm girl; certainly she had not the makings of a ruler, even a powerless one.

Benjin came to her side and placed a hand on her shoulder. She supposed he was trying to reassure her, but it felt like compulsion, as if he were trying to persuade her to make the sacrifice. She wanted to rebel against him and her grandmother, to lash out and make them regret asking this of her, but a vision of her mother came to her. Strong and proud, she said nothing, but her eyes commanded Catrin to be noble, to take the lives of her subjects in her hands and cradle them, just as she had cradled Catrin those many years ago. And mostly, she seemed to ask Catrin to do that which her mother had failed to do: accept the responsibility of her birthright and protect those who needed her.

It seemed strange to Catrin that being born of noble blood would carry so much weight and onus. She'd always thought the nobility leeched off those who worked the land, but now she saw an equally daunting encumbrance. Perhaps the true role of those with power was to serve those who toiled for the sake of their brethren. No longer did the scales seem tipped in the favor of nobility; now they seemed to almost balance one another. The common people needed the nobility as much as the nobles needed them. Like the cycle of life itself, if one component failed, all would perish.

Ignorance had been so much easier to bear.

"It's my duty to protect those who cannot defend themselves, and if that means I must sacrifice myself for the greater good, then so be it," she said before the courage to utter the words left her. She hadn't known what kind of reaction to expect, and in truth, she hadn't even taken the time to consider how her words would be received, but the sobs that wracked her grandmother's feeble form nearly made her weep.

"You are truly my granddaughter," her grandmother said when her emotions subsided. "I couldn't be more proud of you, and I know your mother would approve."

"You have her strength and the beauty of her heart," Benjin added. "She would, indeed, be proud… just as I am."

Their words would have warmed her soul if not for the icy fear that threatened to consume her. She trembled as she imagined herself surrounded by those who'd attempted to kill her when she was only a babe. They must be monsters, these Kytes, and she envisioned herself within their houses, like a lamb surrounded by hungry wolves. The visions terrified her, and she nearly fled. It would be so much easier to disappear into the masses, to become anonymous and unimportant, as she had been when she was just the daughter of a horseman. Perhaps, she thought, that was what Lissa had done.

Deep in her heart, she knew running away would bring her no happiness. Images of those she failed would haunt her, not the least of which would be her father, the man who had taught her right from wrong, who had instilled his values in her, and who had trusted her to do what needed to be done. She could not let them down; her conscience would simply not allow it.

"I don't know if I'll be able to neutralize the statue, but I still plan to try. The marriage is within my power, and despite my misgivings, I will do it. I set out to save as many people as I could, and though this is not how I intended to do it, it serves the same purpose. Perhaps, with the luck of the gods, I'll find a way to achieve both," she said.

"You are a courageous young lady," Millie said as she approached with a lightly steaming mug that she held in trembling hands. "Your bravery makes me proud to serve your family. Here, sip this. It will help to calm you."

"Thank you, Millie, but no. I need my wits about me," Catrin said. Millie nodded and downed the contents of the mug in only a few gulps before she walked away, looking dazed.

"I'll not yet hold you to your word, Catrin, for I feel you should take the rest of the day to consider carefully. You may return to me on the morrow," her grandmother said, and it was obvious that her words were a dismissal. Millie led Catrin and Benjin back to their apartments, and not a word was spoken. It seemed no one would try to influence Catrin one way or another on this matter. Secretly, she prayed Lissa would arrive and relieve her of the burden.

***

In the days that followed, Catrin firmed her resolve, and Lissa remained absent. Though she'd never met her cousin, Catrin began to loath her. What kind of person could abandon her responsibilities? The fact that Lissa was said to resemble Catrin in almost every physical way did not sit well with her, and she resented someone else bearing her likeness but not her morals.

Millie had taken to dressing Catrin every morning, and each day brought a new affront. Frilly dresses and lace-trimmed petticoats were anathema to her. She was uncomfortable no matter how hard she tried to get used to the attire she was expected to wear. She knew she could not arrive for the wedding dressed in her leathers and homespun, but in the evenings, she often donned them for the solace they brought her.

It was on one of these occasions that she suddenly grew panicked as she realized the gilded box that held her noonstones was missing. She could not bear to think of Millie as a thief, and she supposed they might have fallen out when her garments had been taken for cleaning. Benjin was nowhere about, and her anxiety increased when she realized her staff was also gone. After a frantic and futile search of the apartments, she sat down and cried. The stress overwhelmed her, and she hugged herself in an effort to stave off a massive wave of depression. Her entire life was in disarray, and she could no longer take it. The fact that she needed to leave for Adderhold in the morning helped not at all. When Benjin and Millie entered, all smiles, she did what she could to hide her distress, but it was of no use; her anxiety was plain to see. "I've lost my staff and my stones," she managed to say.

"I know you're upset, li'l miss, but everything is going to be fine. I promise you," Benjin said. "Right now, I want you to take a deep breath and dry your eyes; we need to visit with your grandmother."

"I need to change back into something more suitable," Catrin said, and her face flushed with embarrassment.

"You look just fine to me," Millie said and, taking Catrin by the arm, led her from the room.

Millie propelled her through a number of halls that Catrin had never walked before, and she began to get a cold feeling in her stomach. She couldn't have been more surprised, or more mortified, to be led into a cavernous hall, filled to capacity with well-dressed strangers. At the far end of the hall, behind a table laden with fine foods and colorful pitchers, sat her grandmother; beside her waited a single, vacant chair. Unerringly, Millie's course led to that chair.

Every eye upon her, Catrin felt vulnerable, and she wished for Benjin to sit beside her. Instead, he stood directly behind her in the ceremonial role of her Guardian. His presence was one of the few things that kept her from crawling under the table to hide; her grandmother's warm and welcoming smile was another.

"Why did you let me come dressed like this?" she asked Millie with an accusing look.

"It'll be good to let them see you as you are. These are good people. They'll not judge you poorly. Most are simple folk, and your attire may very well endear you to them even more. Don't be embarrassed. You're beautiful no matter how you dress, and these people owe you a great debt. They've come this day to honor you."

"Citizens," the Lady Mangst said in a bold voice that carried across the hall, and a hush fell over the assemblage. "I present to you my granddaughter, Catrin Volker-Mangst, daughter of the late Elsa Mangst."

The crowd raised a cheer, and Catrin was honored by the use of the Mangst name, though it sounded foreign to her ear. At the same time, she was honored that her grandmother had chosen to use the Volker name as well-a show of respect for her father. She blushed furiously as the crowd erupted in a cheer, and some even called out her name.

"The Lady Catrin has offered herself for service to her land and her people, and she will depart on the morrow for Adderhold." This statement was met with less enthusiasm, and Catrin assumed the people knew she was to wed a Kyte. "But this day bears another significance; one that I think Catrin has forgotten under the weight of her responsibilities. On this day, the Lady Catrin reaches her majority, and I ask you to celebrate with us."

A deafening roar erupted in the hall, and Catrin's knees nearly buckled. She'd forgotten, and the sudden remembrance nearly overcame her. She had dreamed of this day for years, but all of her visions had included her father. He was supposed to be there to accompany her as she left childhood behind and entered the world of adulthood. His absence brought her physical pain, and only the reassurance of Benjin's hands on her shoulders prevented her from breaking down completely.

"One and all, raise your glasses and join me. Drink to the honor of this brave and glorious child as she begins her new journey."

A great clatter followed as all the people in the room held their goblets aloft.

"To Catrin," they shouted on her grandmother's cue, and Catrin could no longer contain her tears. Never before had she been given such an honor, and the significance of it was not lost on her. Quietly, in the shelter of her mind and soul, she thanked her mother and father for bringing her into this world, and in that moment, she felt them with her. The vision of them raising a glass to her brought her strength, and she stood on shaking knees.

"I thank you, one and all," she said, and the room shook as the crowd chanted her name.

Her grandmother stood by her side and gave her a smile. "Let us feast," she said, and the room was soon filled with the sounds of revelry.

Food and drink were served to Catrin first, and she declared it the finest feast she had ever attended, which was not an embellishment. Roasted duck was served alongside glazed ham and sugared beets. The finest wine filled her goblet, and it gave her a heady rush as she drank it too quickly. No one was denied their fill, and liveried servants rushed to fulfill the whims of every guest. Amid the din, Catrin turned to Benjin, tears welling in her eyes. "Thank you," she said.

"I'd not forget such a day, and I know your father would give anything to be here. I can only hope that I can fill the void in some way," he said, and she took his hand in hers.

"I'm so glad you're here. Thank you for always being there for me," she said as she squeezed his hand softly.

After the sweets were served, musicians played merry tunes, and every member of the crowd lined up to greet Catrin. Many approached with trepidation, but Catrin decided to discard all propriety, and she embraced each of them as if they were family. She hugged, kissed, laughed, and cried with them, and in doing so, she won their hearts completely. They lavished her with gifts of flowers and gems, and Millie stood behind her, taking each gift and treating it as if it were the most valuable treasure. The table became a monument of their gratitude, and Catrin could hardly believe their generosity. Behind her was amassed more wealth than she had ever expected to see in a lifetime.

It was a young boy who gifted her with the finest thing of all, though, and his gift came in the form of a request. "Will you dance with me?" he asked, his cheeks flushed with excitement, and his mother appeared mortified by his bold request. She grabbed him by the arm and scolded him, but Catrin smiled and spread her arms wide.

"I would be honored," she said, which brought a shocked look from the boy's mother and a beaming grin from the boy. "What is your name, sir?"

"I'm Carrod Winsiker, Lady Catrin. You honor me," he said as seriously as if he were courting her, which brought a prideful smile to his mother's face, and the crowd erupted as Catrin allowed him to whirl her around the center of the hall. The musicians played a joyous tune with a fast tempo, and soon everyone in the hall danced. It was the most wonderful night in Catrin's life, and she wished it would never end.

When Carrod was exhausted, he bowed to Catrin and thanked her for the dance, but before he could walk away, she kissed him on the cheek. He blushed and held his hand over the spot where she kissed him, and as he ran to his mother, she beamed at Catrin. Benjin remained at his place behind her seat, and Catrin led him to the dance floor. He surprised her completely; he danced wonderfully.

"You never told me you could dance."

"It's a closely guarded family secret," he replied as he whirled her through the crowd of dancers.

Like all good things, the celebration had to end, and as the night grew long, the crowd began to disperse. When all the revelers were gone, Catrin rubbed her aching feet and stifled a yawn. The servants cleared the remnants of the meal, and only Catrin, her grandmother, Benjin, and Millie remained in the hall.

"You're an amazing woman, Catrin," her grandmother said, and the title did not escape her notice. "I was afraid our subjects would reject you, but in a single night, you made them your own. I believe they'd follow you anywhere."

With that, she bade them a good night and retired to her chambers, obviously taxed by all the excitement. Benjin and Catrin followed Millie back to their apartments, and she closed the door behind herself as she left. Catrin was about to seek her bed when Benjin emerged from the other room looking like the cat that caught the bird. He carried her staff behind his back and approached her.

"Before you go off to sleep, there is one more gift for you. This is from your grandmother and I," he said as he presented the staff to her. She was uncertain why he would gift her with her own staff, but then she saw the noonstones gleaming in the eyes of the serpent. "I hope you don't mind. I knew you needed some way to have the stones accessible, and this seemed fitting."

Indeed, it was as if the staff had been waiting for the stones, and together, they completed the whole.

"It's perfect," she said.

Chapter 23

To persevere when all seems lost is the most courageous act.

– -Wendel Volker

***

Dressed as a peasant, Lissa watched as the parade of carriages prepared to leave Ravenhold, and she could barely contain the growl that threatened to escape her throat. An imposter, a usurper, and worse was riding in her place to Adderhold. Only days before, Lissa had returned to overhear tales of Catrin, the savior of Mundleboro. Unable to bear the taste, she spit.

How could her grandmother betray her in such a way? She had run away to prevent the marriage between the Mangst and Kyte families. Why would her grandmother send a stranger in her place?

"Pure madness," she muttered through clenched teeth. Torn, she tried to decide what to do next. If she let this Catrin go in her stead, all she had gone through would be for naught. Yet if she tried to stop it, she would reveal herself, and Morif would probably take her to Adderhold in chains.

Lissa did not relish the thought of their next meeting, certain he was furious with her for leaving. He was always going on about how her actions hurt Millie. Lissa didn't care about Millie at that moment, though, as the carriages began to roll. Her last chance to act was at hand and she stood, frozen. Unable to move or speak, she simply watched until the carriages disappeared from view.

***

The journey to Adderhold was only slightly less miserable than it would've been on foot. The carriage jostled constantly over the uneven roads, or it sat waiting for the crowds of people clogging the roads to disperse. Catrin was struck by the resentment her passing brought about. People cursed them, rotten vegetables were thrown at the carriages, and murderous looks followed them. These people had not been at the celebration, and they had no reason to love her. The dozen guards assigned by Catrin's grandmother did what they could to control the situation, and Catrin insisted none of them harm any of the people, but it was difficult for them to comply as many altercations broke out.

Her people's despair brought Catrin physical pain, and she found the yoke of responsibility terribly difficult to bear. She had almost grown accustomed to feeling responsible for the people of the Godfist. It was a natural role that any citizen would feel compelled to fill, but her responsibility for the people of the Greatland was suffocating. The entire known world's future depended on her actions, and it appeared many would die no matter what she did.

Shifting in her seat, she adjusted the folds and layers of her skirt, which seemed to bunch under her no matter how she sat.

Benjin scowled, as he had been wont to do of late.

"What are you thinking?" Catrin asked.

"Hmm. Well, I was just trying to understand the relative disappearance of Vestrana agents across the Greatland. Of the inns we have encountered, only two offered any indication of the Vestrana, and even those signals were mixed. I suppose the times are much more dangerous these days, and it may be that they have become more secretive because of infiltration. It's mostly unimportant now since we've secured our entrance to Adderhold."

Adderhold. Catrin imagined a place crawling with snakes and scorpions, a dark and evil place that waited to consume her. She knew it was foolish to let her imagination run wild, and the visions were probably far worse than what actually awaited her, but a contagious dour mood blanketed those around her. Millie rode in a carriage with two other serving women, but each time they were together, she seemed more nervous and fretful than the last. She feared everything from an ambush to poisoned food, and the fact that her fears were plausible put their entire party on edge.

Along the Inland Sea, the lands were clogged with ragged campsites, and a foul stench hung in the air. The roads impossibly jammed, their caravan was forced to move overland through a maze of disarray. The twined roses on the doors of their carriages became a liability as angry mobs, made up of those from Mundleboro and Lankland alike, left their bonfires to express their displeasure to the exposed nobility. Scuffles broke out between the mobs and her guards, but mostly cold iron kept the peace. As they neared the docks, though, the mass of people became denser, and the spaces between campsites were not wide enough to admit them passage.

A writhing mass of humanity stood between them and the road, which was as impassable as the clogged meadows, for it was jammed with people. They were only a short distance from the dock, but reaching it seemed impossible. One brave guard rode ahead to seek the officials at the docks; he was hard pressed, but he rode aggressively. Most moved out of his way; those who moved too slowly he pushed out of the way.

An uproar rolled across the meadows, and many shook their fists in the air as a mounted detachment plowed through campsites on their way to the carriages. Men became bold and rocked the carriages back and forth, and one man was fatally kicked by one of the horses drawing Catrin's carriage. Visions of assassins closing in around her gave Catrin the chills, and she clutched her staff, ready to defend herself. Within the confines of the carriage, though, there was no room to maneuver. Catrin felt trapped. Benjin's short sword was cleared from its scabbard, and he'd already reached for the door at least a dozen times, but he remained within the carriage.

Surrounded by guards and dock officials, they began a painfully slow procession through scattered remains of campsites, and Catrin doubted these people would love her as those at her majority banquet had. How could she blame them? She'd always disliked those who thought themselves more important than she. Her passage was a necessity, though, and this affront was simply unavoidable. The gathered crowd booed loudly as Catrin and her guards were escorted onto a waiting ferry. No one else was allowed to board with them, and hundreds were forced to wait for the next ferry.

Glad to be gone from the unruly crowd, Catrin relaxed a bit. Through the overcast skies, she could feel the energy of the comets above her, and she knew the next time the night skies were clear, she would see them. The energy bolstered her strength, and she let it calm her stomach as the carriage rocked along with the ship. It was a strange feeling, to sit in a carriage while aboard a ship. The horses had been unhooked for safety's sake, and the carriage's tongue was firmly secured, yet she felt as if she were perched on a branch in high wind, as if the carriage would slide from the deck and into the sea.

"Can we take a walk on deck?" she asked, but Benjin shook his head.

"Can't risk an ambush. Nearby ships could harbor assassins, and given the family history, I'd be surprised if they didn't. Best to stay in here until we reach Adderhold."

"Lovely."

Benjin tried to make the time pass more quickly by quizzing Catrin on her etiquette and ceremonial duties. While it took her mind from the motion of the ferry, it also reminded her of what lay ahead. Her role in this wedding was small. She need only show up and say a few words. Under no circumstances was she to look a man, especially a Zjhon holy man, in the eye. The restrictions on her behavior were ridiculous and triggered deep-seated resentment. Even as a member of a royal family, she was forced to endure the rules of others. The thought of kissing the archmaster's ring made her want to retch; she hadn't forgotten about his letter:

"… My emissaries will remain on the Godfist until you have presented yourself to me personally. This matter must be settled between you and me. It would be a pity if your countrymen and mine suffered needlessly as a result of your selfishness. I beg you to put away your ego and do what you know is right…"

Even after so much time, his words rang in her memory and raised her fury. Belegra had caused hundreds to die then laid the blame at her feet. Trying to contain her rage was like standing before a flash flood, and despite her efforts, it threatened to consume her. Only the reason in Benjin's voice kept her from succumbing. His logic and planning gave her something to hold on to, something to believe in.

"After the exchange of names," he said, "you'll each carry a torch to a pile of kindling. You'll kneel and then light it with your torches. I'm guessing they'll place the kindling near the base of the statue for effect. That'll probably be your best chance to reach it," Benjin said.

"When I stand from the fire, toss me the staff. I still have no idea what I will do then, but I'll think of something… I hope."

Benjin seemed unable to formulate a proper response to that statement, and they spoke little more during the crossing. A tailwind drove the ferry toward the island that cradled Adderhold. The citadel rose on the horizon, and the closer they got, the more intimidating it became. The island was not small, yet Adderhold dominated it as if the man-made structure were larger than the land that held it.

Parapets reached so high into the sky that their tops were lost in the clouds, and the wall that snaked around the hold seemed impossibly thick. The buildings within were oddly shaped; nothing seemed squared or even at right angles. Instead, the city seemed to writhe, all curves and gentle sweeps. As they neared land, she saw that the structures, in many cases, were shaped like serpents, their fanged jaws forming entranceways and windows. The beaches resembled the far shores in many ways except that there was nowhere for the pilgrims to go. The island constricted them.

Alerted of their coming, Adderhold's guards created a narrow avenue through the knot of pilgrims. Those on the island were more subdued than those on the far banks; here there was no place to hide, and cross words could get them killed. Still they cast venomous glances toward the lace curtains that were pulled over the windows of the carriage. Fear was not all-powerful, though, and one man had the courage to throw a rock at them. His aim was uncanny, and the window shattered, the rock landing on Catrin's lap. The residue of the angry energy still clung to the rock, and she flung it to the floor. After brushing the reddish slivers of broken glass from her dress, she sat in a state of readiness, prepared for whatever assault might come next.

Amazingly lifelike carvings of serpent heads protruded from the walls that surrounded Adderhold, and the largest ones guarded a towering archway. No gates barred the entrance. A large structure stood atop the arch, looming above the massive tunnel. Darkness enshrouded the carriage as they entered, and a deep chill set into Catrin's bones before they emerged from the other side.

Adderhold was a bizarre mixture of the hideous and exquisite. Lush gardens were inhabited by ghoulish statuary and serpentine themes. The way they were crafted made them appear as if they would reach out and strike anyone foolish enough to come close. The buildings were constructed of a grainy, white, stonelike material that Catrin had never seen before. It sparkled even in the dim light, and it had allowed the architects to create wonderfully flowing lines.

Beyond the shops and homes that ringed the city stood the keep. Carved from the side of a mountain, it looked as if it would consume the city, so aggressive was its stance. Coiled and focused, the keep was formed to resemble a single serpent of such stature and ferocity that most could not enter without fear of being devoured. Elite guards lined the cobbled boulevard that led to the keep, and their embossed plate gleamed. Their helmets were fashioned in the likeness of pit vipers, giving them an inhuman appearance.