“Oh is that so? How could this get any better?”
“I’ve brought you a present. Clean this mess up, get dressed, and I’ll show you.”
Zurach let go of Terin’s wrist and shoved him toward the divan. “You heard him, boy. Clean up this mess. When you’re done, take a proper bath. Don’t even think about trying to escape. Am I understood?”
Swallowing back a sigh, Terin bowed his head. “I understand, Citizen, sir.”
“Good. Let’s go, brother.”
“You’re just going to leave him alone?” Emeric asked.
“He’ll obey one way or another. Isn’t it fortunate for us that he wears a golden collar?”
Emeric chuckled. “You don’t even know how fortunate we are for that.”
The two men left and their laughter stirred something deep within Terin. It welled up from his stomach and settled in his chest, demanding release. It wasn’t until his nails clawed at his palms that he recognized the emotion as rage.
~*~
Blaise pinched the bridge of his nose and pretended the carriage didn’t sway. He’d lost track of how many times his stomach tried to claw its way up his throat. Using a cough to mask his too-frequent swallowing, he closed his eyes in the futile hope of ignoring the two men staring at him.
“You look terrible,” Frolar whispered in his ear.
“It’s been a long day,” Blaise replied, shrugging. The motion triggered a blast of pain centered behind his eyes.
“It’ll be longer still I’m afraid, Bishop Blaise,” Cassius said. “There is one other I must bring with us to the Cathedral, then I’ll explain everything.”
“Is this about the escaped convict?” Frolar asked in a low enough tone that Blaise let out a relieved sigh that the man’s voice didn’t add to the pain in his head.
“Yes and no, but I can’t tell you any more than that until Leopold is with us.”
“Leopold?”
“One of the Emperor’s advisers,” Cassius replied. The man let out a sigh. “All things considered, it isn’t wise for His Imperial Majesty to make another appearance, at least not yet.”
Frolar made a thoughtful sound. Blaise pinched his nose again before lowering his hands to clasp them together on his lap. He opened his eyes and focused his gaze on the other side of the carriage, not meeting the stare of either human.
“Understandable,” Frolar said. “It would bring too much notice if the Emperor came to the Cathedral.”
Cassius didn’t laugh loud, but there was no humor in it. “That it would. That it would, indeed.”
“I don’t see what this has to do with us,” Blaise said in a soft enough voice that both Frolar and Cassius cocked their heads toward him to catch his words. “The Emperor saw the exact same thing I did. I was right next to him. Why didn’t he just tell you to tell the Archbishop?”
“That is where the ‘no’ comes into play,” the Colonel replied. The carriage jerked to a halt and Blaise felt the blood drain out of his face from the motion. Cassius reached out to brush aside the dark curtain. “Ah, good. We’re here. I won’t be long. Make yourselves comfortable while I fetch Leopold.”
Cassius let himself out of the carriage and hurried toward a gated manor. Frolar reached over Blaise and shut the door.
“I don’t like this none at all,” the aging human muttered.
“Agreed,” Blaise replied. Something had spooked the Emperor’s man enough the scent of his fear lingered despite him being gone.
“You look ill,” Frolar whispered.
“I’ll survive, I promise you. I suspect I’ll just wish I wouldn’t for a while.” Blaise tried to force a smile, but couldn’t manage to do more than make the corner of his mouth twitch upward. “You did warn me.”
Silence fell between them. Blaise leaned back and closed his eyes.
“Steward Volas returned to God’s Garden during the night. There will be a service in his honor at midnight,” Frolar said. “It seems this is an ill-fated day.”
“May God welcome him with open
“I’ve brought you a present. Clean this mess up, get dressed, and I’ll show you.”
Zurach let go of Terin’s wrist and shoved him toward the divan. “You heard him, boy. Clean up this mess. When you’re done, take a proper bath. Don’t even think about trying to escape. Am I understood?”
Swallowing back a sigh, Terin bowed his head. “I understand, Citizen, sir.”
“Good. Let’s go, brother.”
“You’re just going to leave him alone?” Emeric asked.
“He’ll obey one way or another. Isn’t it fortunate for us that he wears a golden collar?”
Emeric chuckled. “You don’t even know how fortunate we are for that.”
The two men left and their laughter stirred something deep within Terin. It welled up from his stomach and settled in his chest, demanding release. It wasn’t until his nails clawed at his palms that he recognized the emotion as rage.
~*~
Blaise pinched the bridge of his nose and pretended the carriage didn’t sway. He’d lost track of how many times his stomach tried to claw its way up his throat. Using a cough to mask his too-frequent swallowing, he closed his eyes in the futile hope of ignoring the two men staring at him.
“You look terrible,” Frolar whispered in his ear.
“It’s been a long day,” Blaise replied, shrugging. The motion triggered a blast of pain centered behind his eyes.
“It’ll be longer still I’m afraid, Bishop Blaise,” Cassius said. “There is one other I must bring with us to the Cathedral, then I’ll explain everything.”
“Is this about the escaped convict?” Frolar asked in a low enough tone that Blaise let out a relieved sigh that the man’s voice didn’t add to the pain in his head.
“Yes and no, but I can’t tell you any more than that until Leopold is with us.”
“Leopold?”
“One of the Emperor’s advisers,” Cassius replied. The man let out a sigh. “All things considered, it isn’t wise for His Imperial Majesty to make another appearance, at least not yet.”
Frolar made a thoughtful sound. Blaise pinched his nose again before lowering his hands to clasp them together on his lap. He opened his eyes and focused his gaze on the other side of the carriage, not meeting the stare of either human.
“Understandable,” Frolar said. “It would bring too much notice if the Emperor came to the Cathedral.”
Cassius didn’t laugh loud, but there was no humor in it. “That it would. That it would, indeed.”
“I don’t see what this has to do with us,” Blaise said in a soft enough voice that both Frolar and Cassius cocked their heads toward him to catch his words. “The Emperor saw the exact same thing I did. I was right next to him. Why didn’t he just tell you to tell the Archbishop?”
“That is where the ‘no’ comes into play,” the Colonel replied. The carriage jerked to a halt and Blaise felt the blood drain out of his face from the motion. Cassius reached out to brush aside the dark curtain. “Ah, good. We’re here. I won’t be long. Make yourselves comfortable while I fetch Leopold.”
Cassius let himself out of the carriage and hurried toward a gated manor. Frolar reached over Blaise and shut the door.
“I don’t like this none at all,” the aging human muttered.
“Agreed,” Blaise replied. Something had spooked the Emperor’s man enough the scent of his fear lingered despite him being gone.
“You look ill,” Frolar whispered.
“I’ll survive, I promise you. I suspect I’ll just wish I wouldn’t for a while.” Blaise tried to force a smile, but couldn’t manage to do more than make the corner of his mouth twitch upward. “You did warn me.”
Silence fell between them. Blaise leaned back and closed his eyes.
“Steward Volas returned to God’s Garden during the night. There will be a service in his honor at midnight,” Frolar said. “It seems this is an ill-fated day.”
“May God welcome him with open
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