The Heir of Jeragoth

Lucine stood outside Colonel Gormin’s office and said to the guard, “I received a message that Colonel Gormin would like to see me.” The guard nodded and opened the door. Inside the outer office, another guard stood outside the door of Gormin’s inner office. Lucine patiently repeated her request to the second guard who nodded and knocked on, then opened, Colonel Gormin’s door. Lucine heard him speak to Gormin, but couldn’t hear the colonel’s quiet reply.

The guard closed the door and said, “Colonel Gormin will be with you soon. You can have a seat while you’re waiting.”

Lucine sat in one of the padded chairs, silently fuming. Colonel Gormin’s message had been more of a summons than a request, with the implication that if she did not come see him, he would come to her. At that moment she dearly wished she had Olivia’s power to intimidate just about anyone she spoke to.

Finally, the door to Gormin’s office opened and Colonel Gormin motioned that she should come in. Colonel Gormin indicated a chair in front of his desk and said, “Please sit down.” Gormin sat down behind his desk and folded his hands in front of him. “Last night, or I should say, early this morning, a young lad by the name of Brom was caught trying to listen at the door of my office. He was fortunate that Cranerock’s man brought him to me.”

Lucine stared at him as he paused, trying with only moderate success to suppress a shudder at the mention of Cranerock’s name. “And what,” she asked with as much disdain as she could manage, “has this got to do with me?”

“Ah well, that’s the question isn’t it? You see, the boy says you sent him to find out what was going on with Miss Erienne.” Even as Lucine opened her mouth to protest, Gormin put up a hand to stop her. “Please, don’t try to insult me by lying. Lord Iliard was here, so we both know the boy was telling the truth.” He leaned forward and added, “Unless of course, you’d like me to call Lord Iliard in to verify it.”

Lucine sank a little in her chair and said, “No, that won’t be necessary.”

“Good,” Gormin said. “I’d hate to have to bother him with this. Now,” he went on, “as far as you sending spies to watch over me or anything that goes on in this office, that won’t ever happen again. You see, because if it happens again, I won’t be the one talking to you next time. Cranerock doesn’t hold much with people trying to do their own spy work in this castle.” He looked right into her eyes and said, “Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her eyes wide with terror. Colonel Gormin almost felt sorry for her.

Gormin stood up and said, “I think that’s about all I have to say.”

Lucine stood, looking considerably paler than she had when she came in. Gormin came around his desk and went to open the door for her. As she was about to pass him, he touched her arm to stop her. “I almost forgot,” he said quietly, “Don’t bother taking this out on young Brom. I asked Baron Candril to let the boy work for me. I think he’s better off cleaning armor and swords than emptying chamber pots.”

Lucine’s eyes narrowed, but she merely said, “Of course,” and walked past him and out the open outer door.

It was only when she was back in her own office on the second floor that Lucine let her rage take over. She let out a scream and threw a heavy glass paperweight across the room. Things were not going at all as she had planned. The little slut left her bastard brat behind. Senet had assured her that she had convinced the whore to take her child with her.

Then, to be called on the carpet because that idiotic boy got himself caught. She couldn’t even punish him for it—he was working for Colonel Gormin now. Lucine growled in fury. How dare Colonel Gormin threaten her? He had no right to tell her what to do with her own servants.

She stopped herself and took a deep breath. No matter. Now that the mother was gone, the child could be easily handled. Her people were already in the process of moving her into the common nursery with the servant’s children. Baron Candril would never notice. He barely came to see the child while the mother was here. As Lucine had suspected, the novelty had worn off. The child would know her place in the world—and it wasn’t with the nobility.

An urgent knock sounded on the door, but before Lucine could answer it, Senet pushed open the door. Her face looked flushed and she was obviously angry. “Lucine, we have a problem.”

Lucine was so surprised at Senet’s precipitous entry that she forgot to be offended at her presumption of familiarity. “What is it?”

“It’s Ophelia. We were trying to empty out the bedroom, but when we went to go into the nursery, Ophelia closed the door and locked it. She won’t open the door no matter what we do or say.”

“Is that so?” Lucine said. “Well we’ll just see about that.” Lucine had a key to every door on the second floor. She walked briskly out of her office and down the hallway to Erienne’s former rooms. The scene in the rooms was one of muted chaos. Erienne’s clothes had been pulled from the closet and the drawers and laid on the bed. Any of Alana’s toys that happened to be in the bedroom had been put into a large basket. Three servants were gathered around the door to the nursery, each alternately trying to persuade Ophelia to open the door. Lucine looked around the room. “Where’s Jena?”

“She’s in there with Ophelia,” Senet replied. “She went in pretending to help us, but instead she helped Ophelia push the door shut.”

Lucine’s face reddened with anger. “We’ll see how those two like working in the kitchens with the slaves.” She pulled the keys off her belt and selected the proper key. “Out of my way,” she said, pushing the servants aside. She put her key in the lock and turned it. To her surprise, nothing happened. Frowning, she took the key out, put it in, and tried again. Still nothing. She tried a third time, jiggling the key up and down as she turned it, but still with no success. Frustrated and mystified, she pounded on the door and shouted, “Ophelia, open this door now.”

“I can’t do that, ma’am,” Ophelia called from behind the closed door.

“Oh you can’t?” She turned to Senet and said, “Go to Colonel Gormin and tell him I need two guards up here to break down this door.”

“That won’t be necessary Lucine.”

Lucine jumped and whirled around at the sound of Lord Iliard’s voice. He was standing behind the group of servants with his arms folded, his expression forbidding. “Lord Iliard,” she said weakly, “I…”

“No Lucine, I will speak now,” he cut across her protest. His eyes scanned the group in front of the door. He pointed to the three servants who had been in the room when Lucine arrived and said, “You, you and you may leave.” The three girls hurried out, casting frightened looks at Iliard as they passed him. Senet made as if to follow them, but Iliard stopped her and said, “You will stay here.” He made a slight gesture at the door to the bedroom and it shut of its own accord. He looked back at the two women and then pointed at the pair of chairs on the far side of the room and said, “Both of you sit.” Lucine and Senet walked slowly past him, their faces pale with fear.

Iliard then went to the nursery door and called out, “It’s all right Ophelia. You may open the door now.” Lucine and Senet heard the click of the lock and the door slowly opened. Ophelia saw Iliard and let out a sigh of relief, “Thank the gods you’re here. I heard Lucine say she was going to get guards to break down the door.”

“I know,” Iliard replied, “But it’s all right. Colonel Gormin has orders from Baron Candril concerning this.” This last was said with a meaningful look at Lucine, who tried to press herself into the back of her chair.

A small voice cried out, “Unca Illy!” and Alana came running out of the nursery and wrapped herself around Iliard’s leg. Iliard chuckled, peeled the two-year-old off his leg and picked her up. “Hello small one.”

“Unca Illy, find ’Ren?”

Iliard let out a sigh, “No, small one. She’s not here.”

Alana’s big brown eyes filled with tears and she buried her face in Iliard’s shoulder. “Want ’Ren,” came her muffled cry from the comfort of her uncle’s shoulder.

“I know. Here now,” in an attempt to distract her, “There’s someone I want you to meet.” He pulled her away from his shoulder and turned her around so she could see Lucine. He walked over to Lucine and said, “Alana, this is Lucine.” He looked directly at Lucine and said pointedly, “Lucine, this is Alana, Baron Candril’s daughter and a rightful heir to the Candril Barony. She will be raised in this castle as the daughter of a High Baron.” Alana looked at Lucine silently and then hid her face in Iliard’s shirt again. He turned to Ophelia and said, “Ophelia, would you and Jena please take Alana out into the gardens for a while? Make sure you tell the guards where you’re going.”

Both women curtsied and answered, “Yes my Lord.” Just as they were about to leave the room, Ophelia stopped. She put her hand in her pocket and pulled out a gold key that had runes etched on the shaft and held it out to Iliard. “Here my Lord, I almost forgot.”

Iliard pressed the key back into her hand and said, “You keep it for now, Ophelia—just in case.”

She glanced quickly over at Lucine and then said, “Yes my Lord.”

After Ophelia and Jena left with Alana, Iliard turned his attention to Lucine and Senet. “I want the two of you to understand something. Erienne and Alana are real people. They are not objects. The two of you have caused real harm to two people who never did anything to you. You didn’t even know them when you decided that they were your enemies.”

He focused his gaze on Senet. “All Erienne wanted was a friend. Instead she got a viper. You fed her lies and half truths—gossip from a few bitter servants embellished to make her believe that all of the servants felt this way. You did your job well. You finally broke her. She was on the edge of despair so deep that she contemplated taking her own life. Do you have any idea what my brother would have done to you if that had happened?” He saw Senet’s eye widen with fear and he said, “I really think you don’t want to know. You had no care for her life or the life of my niece. You encouraged her to take Alana when she ran away. Tell me something Senet; would you walk to Candril City alone in the middle of the night? Or even worse, would you walk to Candril City in the middle of the night carrying a two-year-old child?” Senet shook her head quickly. “I didn’t think so. And yet you encouraged Erienne to leave and take Alana with her. How far do think she would have gotten before highwaymen caught her? I wonder if you even thought about that.” He looked from Senet to Lucine and asked, “Was it your intention to cause their deaths?”

Lucine’s face went white and her eyes widened in fear bordering on terror. “No…no, my Lord, I never…I just thought…” she stopped and bowed her head.

“Yes, I know what you thought,” he said tersely. “But, did it ever occur to you that, because Erienne was a slave, she had no choice in anything that happened in her life? She was born into slavery, sold into prostitution, made the mistress of Baron Candril and bore his child. None of this was of her own choosing. How then, could you possibly think that she could leave here of her own free will? I’m sure you are well aware of what happens to runaway slaves.”

He stopped speaking and gazed intently at each woman in turn. Finally he focused his attention on Senet and said, “Your heart is cold and your intent was malicious. Not only did it not matter to you if Erienne and Alana came to harm, some part of you wished it. Therefore, you are hereby banished from Castle Candril.”

Senet’s eyes widened and instantly filled with tears, “No, my Lord, please. I have nowhere to go.”

Iliard was unmoved by her tears. “How does it feel? That’s the position that Erienne was in last night. I’ll tell you this much—it’s fortunate for you that I gave my word to Erienne that no one would go the post for helping her run away. Otherwise, believe me, you would be there. However, I will give you two choices. You can try to make your way on your own here in Candril or you can work in the kitchens for my great nephew, Baron Natrain in Drapathia. Those are your choices. You will have one hour to make your decision. Now leave us.” He gestured toward the bedroom door, which opened at his silent command to reveal a palace guard standing the anteroom. Iliard turned to the guard, pointed at Senet and said, “Kira, please take this young lady to her room so she can gather her belongings. She is to go nowhere else.”

Senet got up slowly from her seat and approached Iliard. Looking up at him with tear filled eyes she said, “My Lord, please forgive me. I am truly sorry.” She moved in closer to him and said meaningfully, “Surely there must be something I can do to make up for it.”

Iliard leaned down so that his mouth was inches from her ear and whispered, “I do not bed down with vipers.” He straightened up and nodded curtly to Kira, who came into the bedroom and took Senet by the arm. “Kira will stay with you until your hour is up. At that time, you will tell her your decision. She knows what to do from there.” Senet burst into tears as she was taken from the room.

After the door shut behind the two women, Iliard turned back to Lucine, who was now white-faced and trembling. “My Lord,” she said, her voice hoarse, “Please do not send me away. This is my home. I have no other.” She was gripping the arms of the chair so tightly, her knuckles were white. She swallowed hard, not allowing herself to break down as Senet had done.

Iliard folded his arms, “I know that this is true. You have devoted your whole life to caring for the Candril family as did your parents and their parents before them. I believe you did what you did out of an exaggerated sense of loyalty to the Candril family name. However, you still went against the wishes of Baron Candril. He is aware of your loyalty and doesn’t wish you to be banished. So this is what will happen: The care of Alana and these rooms has been given over to me. I will be moving into the rooms across the hall. Ophelia and Jena will work directly for me. You will have nothing to do with either these rooms or my rooms. None of the servants working in these two sets of rooms will be answerable to you. You will give me any keys you may have to these rooms. Furthermore, Cranerock will have you watched to make sure you are not interfering in any way in Alana’s growth or happiness. I personally have no great love for Cranerock, but Baron Candril has insisted on this. It would be wise of you to divorce yourself from any further attempts to affect Alana’s life in this castle. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, my Lord,” she answered, her head down, her voice barely above a whisper. It was the second time today she had heard those words associated with Cranerock. She hoped to never hear them again.

Iliard move a little closer to Lucine and said, “Lucine, look at me.” When she had raised her eyes to his, he said, “I know that your loyalty is to Candril. Know this—Alana is the daughter of Baron Candril. She is an heir of Candril. She is Candril. You owe your loyalty to her.”

Lucine bowed her head again, “Yes my Lord.”

“All right, you may go.”

“Thank you, my Lord.”

After Lucine had gone, Iliard let out and explosive breath and sat down on the chair she had just vacated. Those two women had no idea how fortunate they were that he had convinced Bertrand to let him handle their respective punishments. Bertrand wanted to send them both to the post and then to the dungeons.

He stretched out his legs in front of him and yawned. Although it was only just past midday, he was very tired. He hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before. He yawned again and closed his eyes. He was awakened about an hour later by a knock on the bedroom door. He reached out his thoughts to find out who it was. “Come in Tabor,” he said after a moment.

Gormin opened the door and said, “I was hoping you’d still be here. The guard said you hadn’t left the room and nobody’s teleported out of the castle recently.”

“I was just getting a little sleep,” Iliard answered as he stood and stretched the kinks out of his back.

“Oh,” he said, “Sorry to interrupt. I know you haven’t had much sleep.”

Iliard waved it off, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll sleep well tonight. I have plans to visit a certain lady later on.”

Tabor smiled, “Ah, well then, I’m sure you’ll be fine.” After a brief pause he said, “I thought I’d let you know that the girl decided to take the job with Baron Natrain. So, what did he do to offend you?”

Iliard laughed. “Don’t worry too much about him. His head housekeeper will keep her in line. She’s a real dragon.”

Tabor shook his head, “I don’t know. She might have to be an actual dragon to keep that one in line.”

“Well,” Iliard said with a chuckle, “Since dragons don’t lower themselves to live with humans, she will have to do.”

“Indeed,” Tabor replied. “At least with Senet in Drapathia we can be sure she won’t meet up with Erienne or Alana later on.”

“Speaking of that,” Iliard said, “I’d like you to do something for me.” He pulled a wooden box out of his tunic and held it up, “Remember this?”

“Sure,” Tabor replied, “That’s the amulet that Erienne was carrying last night. What about it?”

Iliard opened the box and took out the amulet. “This is a very special amulet. My master gave it to me so Erienne could contact me wherever I was. It came in quite handy on the day I fought the Tagonic elf. I’d like you to hold on to it. There are going to be times when I have to leave the castle, and I think you’re the best person to have this. You’ll be one of the first to know if anyone gets into the castle and you can contact me. And I’ll try to make sure that the times I’m away do not coincide with the times you’re away.”

Tabor took the amulet from Iliard and said uncertainly, “All right, but how does it work?”

Iliard showed him how to use the amulet and then put it in the box and handed the box to him. “I know you’re not much for wearing jewelry. Just keep it close so you can have it when you need it.”

“Sure,” Tabor replied. He put the box in a pocket, but didn’t make a move to leave. For a long while he just stood and stared off into space. Iliard sat back down and watched him silently, allowing him time to work through his thoughts. Finally Tabor said, “I’m going to ask you something that could get me thrown in prison.”

“Not by me,” Iliard said. “I owe you my life more than once. Please ask.”

He hesitated again, then asked, “Do you think it’s right for one human being to own another human being?”

“You know I don’t,” Iliard answered quietly.

Tabor held his gaze for a while before he asked, “So what’s to be done then?”

Iliard regarded him silently for a while. Finally he answered, “Officially and honestly, I cannot help you. Unofficially, I know some people who would be very interested in talking to you.”

Tabor looked confused. “What does that mean, honestly?”

“I have been given a different and more urgent mission by my master that doesn’t allow me to continue my work at this time,” Iliard replied. “However, there are those who can and will help you, once I tell them.”

Tabor nodded, “Thank you. I have been praying about this for a while.”

Iliard nodded, “I understand.”

“So,” Tabor said after brief pause, “Can I ask you something else?”

Iliard raised an eyebrow and asked, “Is this going to be another prison question?”

Tabor chuckled and answered, “No, but it might be a ‘none of your damn business’ question.”

“All right then, I am duly warned. Ask away.”

“This urgent mission you have—it has something to do with our little Miss Alana, doesn’t it? You’re here to protect her, aren’t you?”

Iliard looked him in the eye as he answered, “With my life, if necessary.”

“I kind of figured that from the way you looked when you showed up here last year. You were a bit of a mess. I don’t suppose you can tell me why.”

Iliard shook his head, “Not right now. Maybe in time. Just know that she’s more than she seems and all of us need to protect her.”

Tabor nodded, “I can do that.”

#

Olivia went in to Mirasol’s bedchamber to drop off some linens. The doors closed behind her. She jumped and dropped the soft white linens. There had been no one in the room she just came through. She spun around to look at the doors and heard them lock. She ran to them and banged on them, demanding to be let out.

“Please relax Olivia. No one can hear you,” a man said. He was sitting in a comfortable chair on the far side of the room, looking as relaxed as can be and completely at home in his surroundings.

She wheeled around to glare at him. He was not supposed to be here. No men were allowed in these rooms without Mirasol’s or, at the very least, Olivia’s consent. She had certainly not allowed any such thing this day. “Who are you? How dare you come in to these rooms! You will tell me who you are so that you can receive your proper punishment.”

He smiled. All his teeth came to sharp points. Olivia shuddered at the sight of them gleaming in the morning sun streaming through the tall windows. It made him look a lot less human.

“My name is Cranerock. At least that’s what people call me now and that is what you will remember me by from this day forward.” He stood up, his skin-tight black clothing making no sound as he did so. He was glad to see the horror register on Olivia’s face at the sound of his name. She had heard of him after all.

“I go wherever I please,” he continued as he walked casually towards her, “and nobody tells me otherwise. But, since you must know, I am here at Bertrand Candril’s request. Please do sit down,” he said as he smiled again, this time with his mouth closed. His feet made no sound as he walked.

Olivia was not going to take orders from him. She had heard of the master spy, to be sure. So this was to be a game of power then, was it? She would not yield to his authority. So he was in here now and there wasn’t anything she could do about that. She would, however, make sure that he left here knowing she was in charge of this situation.

“I will stand,” she said. “Baron Candril has no claim to these rooms. These rooms are completely under the control of Lady Mirasol. You have no right to be here. You will leave at once. Lady Candril will hear about this and you will be punished.”

“Ah, well, stand then, if you wish,” he continued in that soft docile tone. Had she known him better she would have become more alarmed by that tone which always, for him, preceded his most despicable acts. “And Lady Candril is already being told about this from Bertrand Candril right now, as we speak, in his study. Should you survive our encounter, you’ll have an opportunity to ask her yourself.”

“How dare you threaten me!” Olivia was doing her level best to sound confident and remain in charge of the situation. “I have the power to…”

Faster than she could jump back in surprise, he was an inch from her, having crossed the remainder of the bedroom in an instant. He grabbed her left arm on a nerve and she screamed. He guided her shaking body and twitching arm over to a chair and sat her down. “You really should have taken the chair when it was offered. That would only have been polite,” he said.

When she had collapsed into the chair he let go of her arm, the blood and feeling returning to it slowly. Pity he had been told not to harm her physically, he thought to himself. This would have gone so much better. Alas, he would just have to persuade her. He leaned forward to place his face right in front of hers and bared his teeth again, this time in a grimace. “You’re not very good at espionage. You should learn to cover your tracks better,” he said.

He stood upright again, walked across the room to collect another chair and sat down right in front of Olivia, his knees an inch or two from hers. “You think you excel at manipulating people. Well, congratulations. You’ve just entered a larger world. My world. In this world there is real danger and real pain—not the kind of suffering you cause.” He chuckled. It sent shivers down her spine.

He pulled a small vial from some invisible pocket and held it up in front of her face. “You see this? This is a rather peculiar poison.”

Her voice shook as she stammered out, “Y-y-ou wouldn’t dare.”

Again as fast as a flash of lightning he moved, drawing a dagger and thrusting it into the wall a few inches from her left ear. She jumped much later than would have been necessary to survive the blow, had it been aimed at her. Her hair had been pinned to the wall.

“Ssh,” he said softly as he leaned in as if to kiss her. His breath smelled like rancid meat. “I’m speaking now. You’ll wait until I ask you a question or you might break my concentration and mess up my aim. I have lots more daggers.” He glared at her. From this distance she could see white rings around his black irises. She recoiled further into her chair, trying to press herself through the wall.

He leaned back slightly. “It’s called a poison,” he continued, “because that’s what its maker chooses to call it. What it does however, is it keeps you awake and alive. No matter how much pain you’re in, you won’t pass out. It doesn’t do much to stop bleeding, but there are ways around that. A hot poker, for example, can be used to sear the stump of a missing finger. And skin, my personal favorite, can be removed with almost no blood loss at all. It makes fingernail removal seem tame by comparison.” Now he spoke slowly, “Do you understand me?” It looked more like her head shuddered up and down than actually nodded.

“Well, I guess I’d better get to the point. I’d love to stay but I have so many other people to meet today.” As he said this he removed his dagger from the wall and put it back on his person. It disappeared as if it were never there.

“If you ever go near Lady Alana, or send anyone near Lady Alana, or plot against Lady Alana, or even cause people to think bad thoughts about Lady Alana, you will be banished from Candril. And when that happens,” he smiled his toothy grin, “I will come and flay you alive. You will live for about five days before you die of thirst. The longest anyone has ever been able to go without begging for my mercy was about three hours.”

Convinced he had made his point, he stood and turned away from her, his eyes the last part to turn away, and very carefully picked up all the linens, straightening them as he did so. He gently set them on her lap. She recoiled as he drew near. “Try to have a nice day,” he said with a closed-mouth smile.

He walked towards the doors that unlocked and opened for him before he reached them. “Oh,” he said as he turned to look back at where Olivia still sat in the chair, looking back at him in horror, “I’m going to leave one of my people here to watch over you from now on.” With that he walked out. The doors closed again. Olivia’s lip began to quiver and she burst out in tears, her head falling forward into her hands.