Chapter Four
"But you don't understand!" pleaded Erithae to the unsympathetic guard. "I have incredibly valuable information! I know where the prisoners are! You must let me see the King!"
The guard snorted.
"The rest of your kind got here first. And I expect you to wait for a chat with the King like the rest of them."
"But, sir, I saw the prisoners. They were inches away form me. The prince, and the other boy, Nicholas, and the Abhorsen in Waiting. They had escaped from Chlorr, but she recaptured them. It was by the river. And there were Gore Crows, and Chlorr made these huge waves and she capsized the boat and- "
"Enough of that." The guard pointed to a line of necromancers along the wall of the palace. "See them? Every single one of them has a story about how they saw the prisoners. Saw them in the forest. Saw them near the outskirts of town. Saw them in a tree. Hah. They're all like bloody Clayr. Seeing what they want to see. And from the looks of it, you're no different."
"But I'm telling the truth-"
""Course you are. You and the rest of this filthy lot. Now go and wait with everyone else."
Erithae was fighting back her wicked temper. If only her weapons hadn't been taken away. She could see them sitting comfortably behind another guard. She tired one last time.
"Please, I know things that could save their lives. Just let me talk to the King for a moment. That's all I need."
The guard prodded her with his spear.
"I'm warning you," he snarled "For the last time."
"It wouldn't take very long, I promise you-"
"GO NOW!"
"But-"
The guard flicked his spear across Erithae's face. The hall that had been buzzing with quiet murmurs a second before went completely silent.
Erithae ran her fingertips slowly over her smarting cheek. They came away red. She snarled, her eyes wild with anger.
"You shall pay for that, heathen!" she roared, lunging at the guard. It never took much to snap Erithaes' temper into a rage. Her fist did connect with the guards' nose, but that was the only blow she dealt him. At least five pairs of strong arms were suddenly there, holding her back. She tried kicking out at them, and struggling to get free, but it was to no avail. The guard she had tried to tackle wiped blood off his face.
"And you shall pay for that, you pile of scum! Take her to the dungeons. We'll deal with her when we can."
Erithae squirmed around frantically. Her fury had vanished and had been replaced with remorse. She was cursing herself for going ballistic. Why did she always have to do that?
"No! Their lives are at stake! Please! Don't do this to me!"
"Are you pleading for them or for you?" the guard sneered. "Take her away."
Erithae was still trying to resist her captors.
"You've got to understand! Please! I would not lie to any of you! I know where they are! They're in Death! Death! Chlorr will kill them if you don't listen to me! Please!"
The guard snickered as Erithae was dragged out of the hall, still shouting.
"In Death." He chuckled to himself. "Preposterous. How could they be-"
He felt a hand on his shoulder.
Whirling around, the guard saw King Touchstone the First standing behind him. He began to bow, but Touchstone stopped him. "None of that now," he said. "Just bring that girl to me."
Erithae sat nervously in a large high-backed chair in the royal study. The King was slowly pacing in front of the window.
"So you say that they have been traveling in Death," he said, almost to himself. "That does explain many things that have been puzzling us. But only your spirit goes into Death. Your body stays behind."
"Chlorr had three Dead Hands carrying the bodies, your Majesty," said Erithae shakily. She was incredibly nervous. This was the King she was talking to. Not just some petty employer looking for her to conjure up a few Dead.
"Three, you say?" said Touchstone, turning towards her. "I've heard several reports of three rogue Dead roaming the countryside, but they always disappear before they can be examined. Always going North, or so I've been told."
He paused for a moment, looking out over the damaged city.
"I thought nothing like this would - or could - ever happen again," he said grimly. He sounded very weary, at least to Erithae. "I thought that my people would no longer have to live in fear of another catastrophe. But evil will always rise, or so it seems."
Erithae looked down at her feet, trying to think of something she could say. Something comforting. But nothing came. Touchstone sighed deeply and turned back to her.
"How far away were they, exactly?"
"If you're talking about from Belisaere, your Majesty, it was at least two days. That is how long it took me to ride from that point to here. And they were about one day from Aunden, which is where I set out from. If that helps..."
"Yes, it does." Said Touchstone briskly, "Every scrap of information we gain is useful in one way or another." He was busy making marks on a huge map laid out on the desk in front of him, taking note of the coordinates Erithae had supplied. A hash on Aunden, an arrow from Belisaere, dotted lines down the Ratterlin..
"Your Majesty," said Erithae quietly, for she did not want to intrude on what he was doing, "If you don't mind my asking, how is the Abhorsens' health?"
"She'll be..all right.." he said, not looking up. "Burns, broken limbs...nothing the Charter isn't able to heal. But..."
He paused.
"Sam.." he whispered, "I...I don't want to know what she has been doing to him..."
"Oh," said Erithae, rather taken aback, "Oh. Your son. And..the others..well, er, when I...when I saw them, they appeared to be unharmed..although.."
"What?" said Touchstone, his voice tinged with nervous anxiety, "What happened?"
"The one boy..the tall blonde one...he..he got struck in the face. And the other one, with brown hair...he was held underwater...that was how Chlorr forced the other two to come back to her...and...oh, I didn't mean to..I'm so sorry.."
Erithae noticed how much Touchstone's face had fallen. She gnawed on her bottom lip uneasily. He shook his head, and then met eyes with her.
"I expected this," he said blankly, "I expected her to..to torture them..but still.." he put his hand to his forehead, unable to find words to describe the anguish he felt. Erithae did not say anything in return, out of sympathy. It was silent in the study for a period of time, until Touchstone looked up again.
"Right," he said stiffly, clearing his throat. "Your name again, please?"
"Erithae, your Majesty."
He nodded.
"Erithae, yes. I am sending you."
Erithae was caught completely off guard.
"Wha...what, your Majesty?"
"You shall be the one who retrieves the prisoners from Chlorr of the Mask"
He strode over and put a hand on her shoulder in a reassuring gesture.
"There's something there, Erithae," he said, "I feel I know that everything you have told me is not a lie. It is the most believable account of events I have heard in a long time. You aren't as corrupted by Free Magic as some of the other Necromancers here. You're still intelligent, still human. I would trust you with Sameth and Nick and Lirael. And you, so far, have been the only necromancer here with the gusto to attack a royal guard. If you can do that, then Chlorr should be a minor obstacle."
Erithae smiled. She had gotten what she came here for, and felt very proud to have done so. She was about to say something about how she promised to bring them back alive and how honored she was when the doors were slammed open.
A worn-out guard gasping for breath staggered to the middle of the room. He gave a lopsided bow.
"Your majesty, terrible news."
Touchstone's eyes narrowed.
"What is it?"
"We've just received word that the Clayr's glacier has been flooded. There are hardly any survivors. It's ruin."
"But you don't understand!" pleaded Erithae to the unsympathetic guard. "I have incredibly valuable information! I know where the prisoners are! You must let me see the King!"
The guard snorted.
"The rest of your kind got here first. And I expect you to wait for a chat with the King like the rest of them."
"But, sir, I saw the prisoners. They were inches away form me. The prince, and the other boy, Nicholas, and the Abhorsen in Waiting. They had escaped from Chlorr, but she recaptured them. It was by the river. And there were Gore Crows, and Chlorr made these huge waves and she capsized the boat and- "
"Enough of that." The guard pointed to a line of necromancers along the wall of the palace. "See them? Every single one of them has a story about how they saw the prisoners. Saw them in the forest. Saw them near the outskirts of town. Saw them in a tree. Hah. They're all like bloody Clayr. Seeing what they want to see. And from the looks of it, you're no different."
"But I'm telling the truth-"
""Course you are. You and the rest of this filthy lot. Now go and wait with everyone else."
Erithae was fighting back her wicked temper. If only her weapons hadn't been taken away. She could see them sitting comfortably behind another guard. She tired one last time.
"Please, I know things that could save their lives. Just let me talk to the King for a moment. That's all I need."
The guard prodded her with his spear.
"I'm warning you," he snarled "For the last time."
"It wouldn't take very long, I promise you-"
"GO NOW!"
"But-"
The guard flicked his spear across Erithae's face. The hall that had been buzzing with quiet murmurs a second before went completely silent.
Erithae ran her fingertips slowly over her smarting cheek. They came away red. She snarled, her eyes wild with anger.
"You shall pay for that, heathen!" she roared, lunging at the guard. It never took much to snap Erithaes' temper into a rage. Her fist did connect with the guards' nose, but that was the only blow she dealt him. At least five pairs of strong arms were suddenly there, holding her back. She tried kicking out at them, and struggling to get free, but it was to no avail. The guard she had tried to tackle wiped blood off his face.
"And you shall pay for that, you pile of scum! Take her to the dungeons. We'll deal with her when we can."
Erithae squirmed around frantically. Her fury had vanished and had been replaced with remorse. She was cursing herself for going ballistic. Why did she always have to do that?
"No! Their lives are at stake! Please! Don't do this to me!"
"Are you pleading for them or for you?" the guard sneered. "Take her away."
Erithae was still trying to resist her captors.
"You've got to understand! Please! I would not lie to any of you! I know where they are! They're in Death! Death! Chlorr will kill them if you don't listen to me! Please!"
The guard snickered as Erithae was dragged out of the hall, still shouting.
"In Death." He chuckled to himself. "Preposterous. How could they be-"
He felt a hand on his shoulder.
Whirling around, the guard saw King Touchstone the First standing behind him. He began to bow, but Touchstone stopped him. "None of that now," he said. "Just bring that girl to me."
Erithae sat nervously in a large high-backed chair in the royal study. The King was slowly pacing in front of the window.
"So you say that they have been traveling in Death," he said, almost to himself. "That does explain many things that have been puzzling us. But only your spirit goes into Death. Your body stays behind."
"Chlorr had three Dead Hands carrying the bodies, your Majesty," said Erithae shakily. She was incredibly nervous. This was the King she was talking to. Not just some petty employer looking for her to conjure up a few Dead.
"Three, you say?" said Touchstone, turning towards her. "I've heard several reports of three rogue Dead roaming the countryside, but they always disappear before they can be examined. Always going North, or so I've been told."
He paused for a moment, looking out over the damaged city.
"I thought nothing like this would - or could - ever happen again," he said grimly. He sounded very weary, at least to Erithae. "I thought that my people would no longer have to live in fear of another catastrophe. But evil will always rise, or so it seems."
Erithae looked down at her feet, trying to think of something she could say. Something comforting. But nothing came. Touchstone sighed deeply and turned back to her.
"How far away were they, exactly?"
"If you're talking about from Belisaere, your Majesty, it was at least two days. That is how long it took me to ride from that point to here. And they were about one day from Aunden, which is where I set out from. If that helps..."
"Yes, it does." Said Touchstone briskly, "Every scrap of information we gain is useful in one way or another." He was busy making marks on a huge map laid out on the desk in front of him, taking note of the coordinates Erithae had supplied. A hash on Aunden, an arrow from Belisaere, dotted lines down the Ratterlin..
"Your Majesty," said Erithae quietly, for she did not want to intrude on what he was doing, "If you don't mind my asking, how is the Abhorsens' health?"
"She'll be..all right.." he said, not looking up. "Burns, broken limbs...nothing the Charter isn't able to heal. But..."
He paused.
"Sam.." he whispered, "I...I don't want to know what she has been doing to him..."
"Oh," said Erithae, rather taken aback, "Oh. Your son. And..the others..well, er, when I...when I saw them, they appeared to be unharmed..although.."
"What?" said Touchstone, his voice tinged with nervous anxiety, "What happened?"
"The one boy..the tall blonde one...he..he got struck in the face. And the other one, with brown hair...he was held underwater...that was how Chlorr forced the other two to come back to her...and...oh, I didn't mean to..I'm so sorry.."
Erithae noticed how much Touchstone's face had fallen. She gnawed on her bottom lip uneasily. He shook his head, and then met eyes with her.
"I expected this," he said blankly, "I expected her to..to torture them..but still.." he put his hand to his forehead, unable to find words to describe the anguish he felt. Erithae did not say anything in return, out of sympathy. It was silent in the study for a period of time, until Touchstone looked up again.
"Right," he said stiffly, clearing his throat. "Your name again, please?"
"Erithae, your Majesty."
He nodded.
"Erithae, yes. I am sending you."
Erithae was caught completely off guard.
"Wha...what, your Majesty?"
"You shall be the one who retrieves the prisoners from Chlorr of the Mask"
He strode over and put a hand on her shoulder in a reassuring gesture.
"There's something there, Erithae," he said, "I feel I know that everything you have told me is not a lie. It is the most believable account of events I have heard in a long time. You aren't as corrupted by Free Magic as some of the other Necromancers here. You're still intelligent, still human. I would trust you with Sameth and Nick and Lirael. And you, so far, have been the only necromancer here with the gusto to attack a royal guard. If you can do that, then Chlorr should be a minor obstacle."
Erithae smiled. She had gotten what she came here for, and felt very proud to have done so. She was about to say something about how she promised to bring them back alive and how honored she was when the doors were slammed open.
A worn-out guard gasping for breath staggered to the middle of the room. He gave a lopsided bow.
"Your majesty, terrible news."
Touchstone's eyes narrowed.
"What is it?"
"We've just received word that the Clayr's glacier has been flooded. There are hardly any survivors. It's ruin."
