10. N #5
He worked on various speeches, seeking plausible explanations or reasons for delay.
The Skydancer arrived, its iridescent wings spraying dust and small stones across the courtyard.
Haldeen knew better than to keep it waiting.
He quickly grabbed his cloak and his satchel, sliding the food sack into the Farspeaker Room for safekeeping.
He threw his cloak around his shoulders and ran for the ’Dancer.
He had barely seated himself on the passengers’ bench behind the Manipulator, when it lifted off, the wings blurring into shimmering rainbow waves and it departed the ground.
Haldeen could do little except to look out of the portal and down at the city while he tried to control the anxiety that built in his stomach.
Haldeen tried to anticipate all of the questions the king might ask about Triana, expecting to find an angry king demanding to know why he still hadn’t transferred her.
He needn’t have bothered. King Alliard took perfunctory reports from the Lords, and cut Haldeen off after the first few sentences of his memorized speech.
“No progress, then,” Alliard said, as he interrupted.
“Next.” The king had bigger issues today, and moved onto another lord, who delivered equally bad news.
Once the last of the Lords’ Reports were done, always ending with Sanitation, the king laid out the situation in Citrine in broadly the same tones that Pelias had with him over the Farspeaker.
Haldeen could see the surprise on the lord’s faces as Alliard caught them on the hop with his news.
They had all heard the rumors, but the grim reality matched what Pelias had sketched for Haldeen.
He watched surprise morph into fear, anger, and confusion.
King Alliard pressed them for answers, new ideas, anything that would turn the tide.
The Lords’ answers failed to impress and Alliard’s plain, stern face glowered as each stumbled through whatever half-answers they could cobble together.
Haldeen realized only then that Pelias had warned him beforehand, and had not advised the others … giving him time to prepare. He looked at the Lord High Provisioner and raised an eyebrow. Pelias gave him a nod, and a small gesture. Later. Still, it gave him time to think.
Alliard looked at him. “Haldeen? Your turn. Give me something I can use. What would you advise?”
Haldeen took a deep breath. He had the rough bones of a plan to buy time.
“We continue as we are.” He looked at the other lords.
“The king has set me to conduct experiments to see if it is possible to connect to the World Gate, and perhaps restore our connection to the Exiles’ world.”
Haldeen found himself speaking into absolute silence.
He had the undivided attention of every person in the Council.
King, lord and commoner … all centered their attention on him.
“The king has ordered those experiments kept secret to avoid creating false hope, but the fall of Citrine changes the equation.”
Haldeen felt the chamber’s attention shift to Alliard, whose eyebrows had gone wide with surprise. “Go on,” the king said in a carefully controlled voice.
Haldeen kept his expression neutral as he spun out the lies. “I have been able to get the two Gates to connect, but alas, I cannot do so reliably.”
“And?” Alliard prompted.
“The Gate I am using is too weak to reliably reach the Colony World, my lords.” He hoped he had steeled his face enough to hide the lies. “But it has shown the World Gate still functions. If we can get it working, we may have a solution.”
There was absolute silence in the Council Chamber for ten heartbeats. Then, everyone began to talk at once.
Pelias looked at Haldeen from across the carriage as it smoothly accelerated.
The magic-carriage was typically beyond Haldeen’s means, but the king’s Skydancers only made one way trips, and the Lord Provisioner clearly wanted to talk to him.
Haldeen doubted that whatever Pelias had to say would be the sort of chat that could be easily carried on while walking together on an open street.
He steepled his fingers under his chin, waiting for the Lord Provisioner to speak. Once the carriage picked up a bit of speed, the hum of the Machina provided a useful background noise.
“Well, you certainly set a Predator loose back there,” Pelias said.
Haldeen shrugged. “I was grateful for the advance warning.” He made a show of casualness. “Why, though? We’ve never been friends. Or allies.”
Pelias smiled a slow smile, clearly relishing what came next. “The pretty little translator you hired. The one with ‘kiss me’ eyes? She works for the Military Committee.”
Haldeen sat, dumbstruck.
Pelias smiled maliciously. “Well, perhaps not at first. But once she started, it didn’t take her long to realize that the work she did for you would put that lovely little head on the Executioner’s block. So, in a blur of alacrity and self-preservation,
she took copies of the transcripts she’d made for you and went straight to the Military Committee.”
He smiled, enjoying Haldeen’s discomfort.
“She had done the odd job for them before back when she was concubining, so knew just who to contact. They have had their hooks into her, and by extension into you, almost from the beginning. So now, she asks their questions along with yours.”
Haldeen felt ill. He was certain it showed on his face.
“You get a transcript,” Pelias continued. “Very soon afterwards, the Military Committee gets one. Might be the same, might be different. I don’t know. She’s passing her documents to someone. I don’t know who that is. I just know the Committee gets packets of papers fairly regularly.”
“How do you know this?” Haldeen asked, once he found his voice. He was embarrassed to hear how choked he sounded.
Pelias rubbed his fingertips together. “I heard a story from one of the nobles about a pretty little translator he’d hired. Named Kilfenora. She’d worked in his house for a few years. Best kind of servant. Easy on the eyes, did her job, and didn’t cause any trouble. Then,
your father-in-law turned up with a dossier on the girl, calling attention to her past as a concubine. The noble’s ladywife turned her out that very day.”
He shrugged. “Ladywives are notorious for wanting to keep that sort far from the marital nest.”
“Who was the noble?” Haldeen asked.
Pelias feigned surprise. “Why, me, of course. Got a few choice words from Melisian when she found out about Kilfenora’s background. So, given your father-in-law’s involvement, Imagine my surprise when I learned her things were to be taken to your estate.
A few ration coupons later I learned she was on your personal staff, reporting only to you. My first thought was you’d found a way to cadge a mistress. Still, I thought it all curious enough to mention to the king, given your role and importance to the city.”
He laughed. “It’s no secret you and your ladywife are on the outs, so I later wondered if your ‘new girl’ was some gambit by your wife’s family to trip you into scandal. Kilfenora had reported you by then,
so King Alliard brought me in on the secret to keep me from accidentally upsetting something delicate while I was poking around. Given how busy he is, I offered to manage the situation for him. He agreed.”
He reached into his Council robes and pulled out a folded piece of paper, which he offered. Haldeen shook his head. “I recognize the handwriting. It’s Nora’s. I don’t need to read it.”
He thought for a few moments. “So, why are we having this conversation?”
Pelias’s smile faded. “Two reasons. One. Citrine. Old city. On bedrock. Like us here in Verdigris. If it can happen there. It can happen here.”
“And two?” Haldeen prompted.
“And I don’t believe for a second the Gate worked once and once only, and just so happened to bring back a prisoner the one and only time it worked.”
The Lord High Provisioner shrugged. “Put the two together … I think you have a way out in case we go the way of Citrine. And I want in. Or rather out … in case it all falls apart here.”
Haldeen sat still, trying to sort out the angles. After a good long while he said, “Well, I’m not committing to anything, but let’s just say … just for hypotheticals … that there was something to what you say. What then?”
Pelias smiled victoriously. “Well, I would want a way out for four … myself, my ladywife, and our two boys.”
“Four? Just four?” Haldeen said sarcastically.
Pelias ignored his tone. “Just four.”
Haldeen considered Pelias’s demand. He does have access to resources. Can touch things I can’t.
“Again, hypothetically,” Haldeen repeated. “If this were possible, which I’m not saying it is, I wouldn’t be able to wait for long at the Gate. You’d have to get to me.”
Pelias frowned, aware he would be completely reliant on Haldeen to keep his word.
“Agreed. If circumstances permit, I’ll send a word to you. But it’s up to me to get to you.”
Haldeen watched as Pelias sat back a moment.
He’s fishing for leverage. “I’ll work on getting access to special equipment. Military firelances, weapons, special stores. Put them under spell lock to give us an edge once we get there. But”—he stopped and looked Haldeen in the eye—“ultimately, it comes down to a matter of trust.”
Haldeen nodded. As expected … but military-grade hardware and weaponry … even a couple of key pieces might make a huge difference.
“Let’s continue to talk,” Haldeen said. “In case ‘hypothetical’ becomes real.” He paused, his eyes narrowing in sudden worry. Have I just committed treason? “Where is the king in all this?” he asked.
The Lord High Provisioner flipped the massy badge on his chest.
“The king took everything, Haldeen,” he said. “In the space of a single sentence, he cast me down and took everything. I went into the meeting as a lord, and was reduced to a beggar, all at his whim.”
Haldeen felt confused. “He raised you back up again.”
Pelias gave him a bitter smile. “I understood his point, Haldeen. At any moment, for any reason … any of us can be cast down. I want to go where I am no longer beholden, having to come and go as I please, and not by another’s ‘by your leave.’ Trey-ana is a noble in her world,