~Percy~

One could never quite appreciate the pleasures of a proper bed until they'd made do without for a few days. After the haste of their ride from Carhavel, Percy had been grateful for a good night's rest. The room he'd been offered--a small suite in a tower jutting from the palace--was well-equipped, with pillows of puffed down on the bed and a ceramic basin full of water for washing in the morning. Simply letting his aching muscles rest on the bed was enough to send Percy into a relaxed stupor, and he didn't wake until the morning sun was fully risen.

They'd arrived in Pardasath just after nightfall, waved through the gates by a guard who shrank away visibly from Rendas. The city was very different to Carhavel. They'd grown up long ago, when the map of the Grasp was different. Only a few hundred years ago the two cities belonged to different crowns. This history was writ clear in the buildings. Pardasath was made of dark stones and patterned cobble streets, sloping roofs topped with moss and meandering wynds that turned the city into a maze. Trees were on every corner. Ivy on walls was pruned and encouraged, rather than cut away whole cloth. It was the style of the people of the Crothadar, northern and vegetal. Percy didn't like it very much.

The palace itself was an exception. In the days of old, the city and its lands were sworn to the kings of Lindoien, who ruled from their Essetiel seat. Pardasath had no need of a palace in those days. When one had been built, it had adopted more modern, southerly designs. The stone was not whitestone, but it was painted to look like whitestone. The angles were harsh, except for the arching stonework over the top of high windows; standing over a great waterfall, with the moon at its back and grey mountains at its side, it imposed itself over the city.

It was too late, by the time they had actually gained entry into the palace, to speak with the King. He'd already retired to bed, and was not to be disturbed. Instead they were received by Descard's steward, Jarm Traene. Traene, a beanpole with deep-set eyes and bony fingers, was a distant cousin of Lord Traene, whose family ran the port at Arethloden. That he'd been sent to serve the King in Pardasath instead of sharing in his family's wealth was undoubtedly a slight wrapped in the masque of an honour. Percy couldn't tell whether it was this slight which had fostered Jarm Traene's snide demeanour, or whether the man's slippery comportment had encouraged Lord Traene to fob him off to anyone who would have him. Tired as he was, Percy insisted on staying until Eada had been shown her own chambers, and he was assured that she had the key. He didn't trust the look in Traene's eye.

In the morning, after splashing the water over himself to loosen the dirt that had sunk into his skin, Percy dressed quickly in the same worn Tuiar livery that had carried him from Carhavel and made his way down to the palace's lofty halls. Imposing as the palace was made to look from the outside, within its walls it was all about grandeur. The floor was of smooth-polished marble that echoed every step; the ceilings were adorned with images of floral scenes, twisting vines and verdant leaves and creatures of the forest dancing within the frames made by brightly painted cornices. Windows almost as high as the ceiling, made of wide panels of glass--of a size that they could only have been made by a Magus--let in the morning sun. There was no need for torches or candles in the daytime.

Jarm Traene met Percy at the base of the tower, in the company of a grizzled man wearing plain armour over his woollens. More impressive by far was the man's moustache, a great thick worm clinging like a limpet to his lip. "Good morning to you, Captain Oddell," said Traene, in his snivelling voice. "The King has agreed to speak with you over breakfast. He was most curious to know what had drawn the Captain of Carhavel so far from his home."

"As are we all," boomed the other man. "Ewlan Haughtry, Master-at-Arms. Captain Indicar spoke highly of you before he passed--I hope you've maintained his exacting standards." Indicar had been the Captain of Carhavel before Percy. It was probably best if Percy didn't mention the fact that Indicar complained often and loudly about the 'damnable arms-master' of Pardasath. Instead, he nodded and smiled.

"I hope so too," he said.

"We must take our leave," Traene said, folding into an obsequious bow. "The King so hates being without his inner circle at meals. Join us at your leisure, Captain."

Percy watched the two men crossing the hallway and entering the King's chamber, and as his eyes followed them he caught sight of a strange lady lurking by one of the tall windows. She seemed to be watching him. A second, closer look--as he approached her--revealed her not to be a stranger at all. Eada, out of her armour and into something more suitable for a royal ball, gave Percy a sheepish look.

It was odd to see Eada in a ladies' gown. No doubt one of King Descard's attendants had hastily found one, so that Eada would be presentable--there were rules of decorum for dining with the King, and a woman in mud-stained breeches would definitely be in breach. The dress was cut of coloured silk, skirting just above Eada's ankles, and trimmed with pearls around the waist and the collar. To Percy's surprise, Eada didn't look ill at ease. She smiled prettily when she saw him. "Good morning, Captain."

"My," he said. "I never thought to see you in a dress."

Eada frowned. "Why? Because I can hold a sword? I can be pretty if I want to."

"You certainly can."

She shook her head. "Try to think with the head that's on show, not the one in your breeches. I'm the same Eada, remember. A whole woman, a person in my own right. And I'd forgotten how nice it can be to wear something fancy like this."

"There was never anything stopping you," Percy told her.

"It's a gown," she said, exasperation pouring off her. "It's made for balls, not battlements. Now, can you remember to treat me as a human being? Because if you keep obsessing over the clothes I'm wearing and how different they are to what I wore on patrol, I might have to take that sword of yours and insert it somewhere inside you." Eada smiled sweetly as Gurdagam arrived in the hall.

"By the Forger's eye," he said, "I almost didn't recognise the goatwife there."

Eada grabbed Percy's lapel and pulled his ear to her mouth. "Same goes for him," she whispered. Spinning on the heel of her shoe, then, she strode into the dining hall.

Percy met Gurdagam's eye. "That's enough of that."

"Enough of what?"

"Eada's young enough to be your daughter," Percy said sternly. "Or mine, for that matter. You don't need to insult her with cruel names."

"Cruel? She loves it, Captain--it's just her prudish nature that acts all offended."

"If she loved the name, she'd tell you." Percy followed Eada through into the King's chamber before Gurdagam had a chance to say anything else.

Inside, he gasped. Breakfast was an understatement, really; a table long enough to seat two dozen had been filled to bursting with many dishes on porcelain plates. There were pork sausages and strips of thick bacon, hen's eggs and pease pudding, suet and plums and hunks of cheese. A half-dozen loaves of bread, snowed over by sprinkled flour, were spread evenly along the table. Each had beside it a generous helping of butter and jam. The smell alone made Percy's mouth water. His stomach rumbled, as if to remind him of how long it had been since his last proper meal.

There was an available seat across from Eada, between Haughtry and a dark-haired woman Percy had not seen before. He sat, and helped himself to a slice of bread.

"So this is the man who rode from Carhavel to speak to me," said a voice, that of King Descard, and Percy bowed his head.

"Your majesty."

"No need to bow. You're not here as my thrall." The King sat at the head of the long table, the thin silver coronet of Tuiar uneasily resting on his temples, barely touching his hairline as it receded. Beside him stood a fair-skinned woman with hair the colour of flax, flowers draped over her dress at every seam. She wore around her neck a pendant not unlike Eada's, gold instead of silver, with a kingfisher carved into the metal. The woman was short; even though King Descard was seated and she stood, her head was barely above his. Descard gestured to the woman, a broad smile on his face. "Captain, let me introduce Magus Telsa. She has been at my side, advising me, for near enough three years now." With a wink, the King dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, and leaned forward towards Percy. "Magus Telsa denies it, of course, but she is as close as this kingdom will come to a consort. In a year I shall have her wed." Telsa blushed.

Percy raised his eyebrows. King Descard's distaste for the Magi was something he'd never been shy about. There was a reason they weren't allowed to gather in large groups within Tuiar, and a reason why the strongest of their number were always drawn to Carhavel, rather than the capital.

King Descard's eyes narrowed. "You look surprised."

"Pardon, your majesty, but as I understood it you had no fondness for Magi."

"I don't," King Descard laughed. "They took my Embra and killed her, and my poor mother didn't even get the body to bury. The grief killed her, you know? Queen Thalia of Tuiar was murdered by the Magi. But Telsa here is a rare wench; she's coy, but what's the use of a consort who doesn't have to be won over?"

Eada snorted loudly. "She doesn't want to marry you," she said. "Why not leave her alone?"

Descard met Eada with a piercing glare. "I am the King. There's not a woman alive who does not wish to marry a king, somewhere in her heart of hearts. And even should such a mythical beast exist, it would not matter. The King's wish is always granted, no matter what the woman's may be."

Eada shook her head. "You sound like a terrible king, and a fool too."

"Not now, Eada," Percy snarled. She probably had a point. King Descard would be better served finding a woman who actually wanted him, rather than one who didn't. But it was never a good idea to insult a king in his own hall. Not if you planned to leave with your head still securely attached to your neck.

King Descard actually seemed amused, though. "I'm a fool, am I?" he said, waving Telsa away from him and gesturing for Eada to sit. She didn't, though Percy and Gurdagam both did. "And how am I a fool, girl?"

"Telsa doesn't want to marry you, yet you press ahead." Eada smirked. "And it's a fool's move to try to marry an unwilling Magus. Bad things happen to men who do that."

Haughtry laughed, a deep booming laugh, his thick moustache wobbling on its perch. "I think the girl means to threaten you, your majesty."

"It's a treason to threaten your king, goatwife," spat Rendas.

If King Descard paid any mind to the men at his side, he didn't show it. Helping himself to a pinch of Telsa's flesh--which drew a scarcely-suppressed whimper from the floral-clad Magus--the King leaned forward. "A Magus has spells, yes, but dear Telsa does care for me, and might I remind you also of how precarious your order's position is, in my court and in those of every other kingdom in the Grasp. She would never think to harm me."

"She wouldn't need to. Fate would intervene on her behalf."

This prompted Descard to laugh. "Fate? Do you commune with the stars, now? Fate is unknowable. It's lofty. It does not trifle with the affairs of us on this earth."

"Your great grandfather tried to marry a Magus who was unwilling," said Eada. "Lina never raised a hand to him, or a word in dispute, not even as his attendants forced a gown of blue upon her and took her to be wed. An assassin killed your great grandfather on the altar, as he waited for his bride-to-be. The assassin was forsworn to shadow, a man with his eyes gouged out, and not one person attempted to stop him as he left the city."

King Descard paused a second. "A fascinating story, girl," he said, eventually. "And wishful make-believe. Had you read the histories, you would know that my great grandfather's proposal to Magus Lina was refused, and she was allowed to leave the city. He died half a year later, but certainly not at the hands of an eyeless assassin."

"Lina saw everything," said Eada. "And she told me it all."

"Don't lie to me, girl," said King Descard, a new edge to his voice. "My great grandfather died more than eighty years ago. Magus Lina would have been long dead before you were old enough to walk, let alone to have known her. Now, you can sit and enjoy breakfast with your king, or you can remain in your chambers until I am done with Captain Oddell. The choice is yours--but I will hear no more lies."

"You must stay to try the pork sausage," purred Magus Telsa, silkily extricating herself from the King's arm and settling herself down on the bench beside Eada. "Why, I can't imagine wanting any sausage but the ones served at breakfast. They truly are sent from the stars." She picked up Eada's fork and skewered a sausage from a silver dish in the middle of the table. Giggling, she brought the fork and the sausage to Eada's mouth. The girl opened wide to receive them.

King Descard was watching events with a look equal measures hungry and sour.

"We didn't come all this way to talk of your future nuptials," said Percy, before Descard turned lecherous. "I bring... ill news from Carhavel."

Descard turned away from the two women. "Carhavel?" His lip curled. "Why should I care for Carhavel?"

"Because it's your city," Percy told him. "It's sworn to you. It's part of Tuiar--and you are the King, after all."

"I am," Descard nodded, after a second. He took a mouthful of sausage and spoke again, spraying chunks of ground pork with each word. "So what of Carhavel?"

"Carhavel has fallen, your majesty," said Percy. "Invaders from the south."

"Dael?"

Percy shook his head. "Further. From the outlands. They took the city in a matter of hours, at the cost of six Magi and more men than I'd dare to count. Lord Fargen Huide fled at the first sign of trouble."

"He always was a coward," muttered Gurdagam.

"It's my belief," continued Percy, "that the outlanders will continue to march north. They'll fall on Pardasath next. When they do, I don't doubt Pardasath will fall."

King Descard snorted. "Pardasath will never fall. Least of all to savages."

"Savages? You've not seen these outlanders, your majesty. They are capable warriors."

Descard glanced over to Rendas. "Have you seen any outlanders, Captain?"

"No, your majesty."

"Then there's proof." Descard clapped his hands together. "It is impossible to march on Pardasath without being seen by Anternien. Impossible. If Captain Rendas has not seen your fabled outlanders, they cannot be much of a threat."

Percy sighed. "Your majesty, I beg you--reinforce the garrisons. Make contingencies to flee. It's not even a day's ride from Anternien to Pardasath. By the time Captain Rendas' men see what's coming, it will be far too late to mount a defence."

"Flee?" Descard collapsed into laughter. "A king does not flee. A man of Pardasath, a man of Tuiar, does not flee. That is what men of Carhavel do."

"Perhaps Captain Oddell would be more at home in Méor," said Rendas. "I hear they're masters at turning tail and running."

"Perhaps," Descard nodded. "Should I send you to Méor, Captain Oddell?"

"I'd sooner stay here," said Percy. "I intend to defend my homeland."

"None of us plan to see Tuiar defeated," Haughtry said.

"Nor will it," said Descard. "Tuiar's power is built on the back of a very strong alliance. It cannot be broken. Captain, you sit beside my sister, the Lady Elgeth Nastanen. Her dowry was fine hunting land on the north border and all the jewels and baubles my mother left behind. A heavy price, but it bought me the undying loyalty of the House Nastanen, and the ten thousand swords they command. I need only say the word and they will raise their banners for me. How would these outlanders fare against such a force?"

Percy met Descard's gaze evenly. "I would like to say they would be broken," he said, "but I don't know that they would. Dael had far more than ten thousand swords to call on, and Dael fell."

"Your majesty," said Steward Traene, "perhaps it would be wise to send a missive to the Octal Tower. A few extra Magi would only help if the need arose."

Descard shook his head. "Never. Magus Telsa will make a fine wife, and her flesh is delightfully supple, but I need only one wife. I won't have any more Magi in my city."

"You must be reasonable," said Elgeth.

"One won't be enough to defend your walls," added Percy. "Even six couldn't hold Carhavel."

Descard laughed an ugly laugh, spilling greasy bacon fat down his chin and onto his doublet. "Would you have me believe that six high-and-mighty Magi are better than ten thousand well-trained men? Enough of this talk. It's ruining breakfast."

Percy bowed his head. "Apologies, your majesty."

It was well past noon when the King--having finally exhausted his appetite--called for servants to clear away the dishes and declared breakfast at an end. "I wish to speak with you in my parlour before you return to Anternien, Captain Rendas," he said, as he rose ponderously to his feet. "But first... Telsa, my nectar, you will attend to me as I take my bath." The King and the Magus were the first to leave, together, him looking far happier about the arrangement than her. As they left, Eada watched them with a look so incredibly sour it almost made Percy blanche.

"I've often wondered," said Elgeth, to nobody in particular. "Had I been born with the cock, and not Descard, I'm sure I would not have been so vulgar with it."

"The King needs an heir," Haughtry answered. "And for that, he needs a woman."

"He has an heir--me." Elgeth pointed a dainty finger at herself.

"And you're a woman," said Haughtry. "If a woman was a suitable heir, you'd have the crown and not Descard. Women were made to be mothers and Magi. They lack the constitution to rule."

Elgeth drew herself up. "You forget that a woman ruled Tuiar not fifteen years ago. My mother."

"I remember Queen Thalia," Haughtry said. "I served under her, same as under your brother. And I remember how she let herself waste away to nothing out of grief. That is why she is the only woman to ever sit upon this kingdom's throne."

"Dael has a queen," said Gurdagam. "So does Redesca, and Thamm, and Salveir Tosal. Arast has had more queens than kings in the last two centuries."

"And none of those places are Tuiar. None of those places are strong."

Percy heard the chamber door shutting with a crash, and noticed--suddenly--that Eada was no longer at the table. "Pardon me, my lords," he said, rising. "My lady."

He caught up with Eada in the southern gallery, a passage not unlike the main hallway whose high windows overlooked the waterfall and the valley beyond. Walls of carved marble fifty feet tall or more melted into corbelled archways and a ceiling adorned by painted scenes of people and places in faded ink. Statues stood in alcoves along the length of the hallway--the men and women of Descard's family, their pomp immortalised in the stone. It was the spy's dream; those statues cast long, heavy shadows, and anyone could hide there. Eada was stood beside one of these statues, identified by the engraved plinth as Princess Haela, who had died three centuries ago. She wasn't looking at the statue, though. Her eyes were fixed on the floor.

"What were you thinking?" hissed Percy. "Calling Descard a terrible king. To his face, no less. There's not much you could have done which would have been worse."

"Perhaps I was thinking that my friend deserves better than to have a king drooling over her," said Eada, haughtily.

Percy shook his head. "Think that. By all means. But don't say it to the King's face, in his own palace. What if he decides he doesn't like people standing up to him like that?"

"Then he'll have to not like it," Eada shrugged.

"Don't be a fool. You're a Magus, Eada, you're not immortal. Do you think Aldora got to where she did by running her mouth in front of kings?"

That gave her pause. "She speaks to me, you know," Eada said. "Aldora. She's in my head."

"Aldora's dead. All of them are. You saw what happened to Carhavel, to the bastions. Nobody could survive that."

"She didn't have to," said Eada. "Aldora linked to me. Not even death can break the links of a Chain, Percy Oddell." Eada's eyes glazed over for a second. She blinked, and the pupils seemed to uncloud. "I'm sorry. You're right: I shouldn't antagonise the King."

There's more to it than that, though. "How long has it been?"

Eada fingered the near-stubble on the side of her head. "Since what?"

"Since you last saw Telsa." Percy took Eada's idly moving hand in his own and held it firm. Her skin was ice-cold. Did she have a chill? "I might not have your eye for people's emotions, Eada, but that doesn't make me blind. You're very fond of her. I can see it."

"She's a friend," said Eada, shaking her head stubbornly. "We were apprentices for a time together at the Octal Tower. We were linked to our Chains on the same day. But that's as far as it goes."

"I see." Percy glanced back towards the door to the king's great dining room. So far, nobody had followed them this way, though he was sure it wouldn't be long. "How did you sleep last night?"

Eada looked momentarily blindsided by the change in topic, but she nodded her head. "Well. Better than I've slept in a long time."

"Make sure you lock the door again tonight," Percy told her. "I don't like how Traene looks at you."

"I don't need you to tell me how to protect myself," Eada huffed. "I know what the world is for a woman. Better than you ever could."

Percy held a hand up. "I don't mean to talk down to you, Eada. It's just... I'm worried."

"You shouldn't be. What could a gutter rat do against two Magi?"

"Two Magi?"

Eada blushed.

"You were with Telsa last night, weren't you?" Percy asked

"I don't know what you're talking about--"

"If you love her, you love her," Percy smiled. "Doesn't make you weaker."

Eada shook her head. "No. Magi are forbidden to love. No love, no marriage. Wars were fought to make that so."

"I don't think anybody would fight a war to keep you and Telsa apart," said Percy.

"Desmer might."

"Desmer's an impotent wretch," said Percy, shaking his head. "He'd be bitter, and no more. You'll see that within a week."

Eada stiffened. "A week?"

"I certainly hope we can hold Pardasath for longer than that," Percy laughed.

She looked away from him. He caught a murmured 'oh', so soft he knew it was never meant for his ears. All of a sudden the absurdity of it all struck him. Eada was at ease in the fineries of court, but she still looked out of place. Her path went winding on. Her destination was elsewhere. It had been less than a day in Pardasath, and she'd begun to curdle.

Percy sighed. "You want to leave, don't you?"

"Tuiar isn't my home. I've no ties to this land, and no affection for King Desmer." Eada turned her head. "The sooner I'm away from here, the better. On the morrow I'm riding north."

He nodded. "If I could go with you, I would." I'd ride to the farthest north to keep you safe, child.

"Why don't you?" Eada looked hopefully towards him. "I enjoyed serving under you, in Carhavel. I'd be happy to have you with me."

Ignoring the turmoil that had started to settle on his heart, Percy put his hands softly on Eada's shoulder, kissed her on the forehead. "Tuiar's not your home, Eada, but it is mine," he told her. "I've fled once from danger already. I won't flee again. Rendas called me a coward on the gate. Eada, what if he's right? I won't give him the satisfaction."

"You're not a coward," she said.

"Maybe not," he said, "but I need to prove it to myself. I'm glad to have known you, Magus--but this is farewell."

She looked at him for a second, her face unreadable. Then, reaching out, she squeezed his hand. "I should find my chamber," she told him. "We've had a hard ride from Carhavel."