X. Secrets

The King died two weeks later, peacefully in his sleep. Holland watched in silence for the whole funeral, her eyes fixed on their new ambassador from the west and his painted woman rather than the body of the departed monarch. She didn't know if they were involved or not, but it wouldn't have surprised her in the slightest. Then Fionn had the gall to offer Laenus the chance to stay for as long as he wished, an offer that of course included his few guards and Naris. It was an offer Laenus had accepted so graciously that it almost nauseated Holland. Cadeyrn made a spirited argument against it behind closed doors, with Holland heatedly recusing herself from the conversation after the accusation of a clear, unjustified bias against Laenus stung her ears. What could she say to convince the new king that every bit of her enmity had been earned? The truth?

Her vice was secrets, Naris said. It was beginning to become apparent that the elf's words were altogether too true.

"I'm sorry—" Seva started, but before she could finish, Holland stalked out of the room and slammed the door behind herself with a bang.

The only answer Holland could come up with was space and time. That was how she found herself lifting her saddle onto Maël's back. The horse was watching her with a concerned dark eye and butted her shoulder gently with his head. It made Holland smile for a moment, no matter how briefly. "I know," she said, stopping to pet his nose for a moment before cinching the saddle tight. Riding was her answer to many of her problems these days. Absence was not ideal, but running away was a damn sight easier than standing there and just taking it as more and more was dumped onto her shoulders.

"Holland!" It was Cadeyrn calling after her, no doubt worried about her.

The penitent ignored the sound of her name and swung herself up into the saddle. Maël needed no encouragement to spring into motion. They took off through the gates by the stables and out into the city proper. This was what she needed, the rush of wind and the feeling of moving in tandem with the horse. The only thing she was missing was a weapon in hand and the rush of adrenaline that always came with battle. Holland guided her mount carefully through the streets, losing speed once she was into more crowded areas and was sure that Cadeyrn wasn't following. The rhythm of Maël's hooves was a comfortable and familiar one.

She had her sword with her, just in case. Yssa was a significantly more dangerous place than it used to be with agents like Laenus and Naris about, not to mention the demons that lurked in the shadows. Her ride took her south into the Argent Forest. Branches bare except for the evergreens, the forest seemed stark and empty aside from its tangled undergrowth. She kept to one of the old side roads that still carved its way through the brush, though small bushes poked up between the ruts.

Maël carried her faithfully through the forest, towards a crumbling ruin that had become her place to think over the course of a handful of rides out this way. The great monoliths of stone and spatters of dull, once-molten metal decorated the forest floor between pools of glass. Trees tumbled over with their roots the great works of the First World and climbing vines reclaimed the remnants of what had once been standing buildings. Holland slipped down from horseback when they reached that area of the forest and walked forward, the reins held loosely in in her left hand. She let the fingers of her other hand trail over the surface of stone smoothed by time and exposure to the elements. The cold texture of the stone was reassuring in its solid and immutable nature.

A twig snapped and Holland whirled around, hand on her sword.

There, standing behind her in leather armor, was a hooded man. He wore an archer's shortsword and carried a bow, but his hands were on neither weapon. "Relax, Lady Penitent. I mean you no harm," the hooded man said quietly. His accent was noticeably Leyan. "You and I are not enemies, friend to the Queen though you may be."

"Then you carry a message," Holland said.

"An invitation. I convey it to Her Majesty by way of you, that it might be done in secret and found less offensive by the giving," the Leyan man said. "My master, Magus Dušan Cipris, would like to meet with her in private at Laweden, on behalf of High King Kajetán II."

"For what purpose?" Holland asked. She was willing to entertain the notion, between the looming threat of the Imperium and the fact that it would be a meeting on Yssan soil.

"The negotiation of a treaty," the messenger said. "It is well known that King Fionn has no love for Leus, but we hope that his wife is more accommodating. We have heard the warnings of yourself and Lord Cadeyrn, Lady Penitent. The divinations of the Magi reveal the truth of such words. My master is gifted with the Sight. He has seen the forces you speak of. It is an army of one purpose: the destruction of the world of men."

"Your people are willing to set aside their differences?" Holland said. There was still a chance that all of this could be a ploy to put Seva in harm's way, but she wanted to believe that this was genuine. They needed the help. This was more than she could have ever hoped for, even if the terms of the treaty were detrimental to Yssa in the future. A small price to pay for survival. Granted, the assistance of Leus's mages was no guarantee that the Imperium could be turned back.

"Yes, but we know we will not be enough. We need the armies of Yssa, the machines of Talin, the ships of Genev. The whole of the east must stand together or be annihilated as your people remake the world in their chosen image," he said. "You must persuade Her Majesty to come."

"I will do what I can, but I cannot promise more than that," Holland said.

"If there is anyone she will listen to, Lady Penitent, it is you," the messenger said. "I will return to my master. If Her Majesty is willing to talk, tell her to meet us at Laweden in a two months' time. My master must journey from Zaeylael. It is troublesome, to move through the Stonemarch in the winter."

"I will," Holland said, giving the man a small bow. He returned it deeply. "I wish you safe roads and fair weather."

The hooded man smiled. "Thank you, Lady Penitent." He turned on his heel and left the way he had come with a hunter's silent tread.

Holland wasted no time. She swung up into the saddle and turned Maël back towards Tamaris, urging him forward into a canter that quickly became a gallop. She ducked branches with an expert's grace as they moved at speed, slowing only when they reached the edge of the capital, where people began to fill the roads. She had no interest in a collision that might hurt her horse. It was a few minutes before they reached the stables. Mercifully, Cadeyrn was nowhere to be seen. He was an understanding man, but he was inclined to bring up the subject of Laenus—the last thing in the world she wanted to talk about. The Immortal was nowhere to be seen as well, fortunately for him. Holland's temper was still smoldering under the surface, waiting for something else to trigger it. She hadn't cooled down much, though she was at least distracted.

Seva was in the library. It had been woefully neglected during the reign of Fionn's father, but Seva was already working hard to restore it. She'd sent for her books and scrolls that remained behind in Laweden, many of them arcane tomes from Leus. It was fast becoming the new queen's favorite place in the palace. Currently, she was curled at one end of a comfortable couch tucked away near the windows that overlooked the palace gardens, trying to focus on her book but frowning as her blue eyes studied the words. She looked up at the sound of the door. "Holland," she greeted tentatively, worry easily readable in her delicate features. "About earlier, I—"

"Forgotten," Holland said. The penitent took a circuitous route to the couch, checking to make certain the small library was free of servants and other eavesdroppers, and then sat down on the couch next to Seva. She wasn't certain exactly where to begin, so she settled for the first words that popped into her head. "I had an interesting visitor, out in the woods."

"A visitor?" Seva said curiously, closing her book.

"A Leyan," Holland said softly. She did not want to be overheard, a risk even if the library was empty. "They want to negotiate a peace, my lady. One of their magi is going to be in Laweden in two months' time. He wants to speak with you."

Seva's blue eyes went wide. "With me?" she said. "Why didst they not broach the topic to Fionn? Why not come to the palace and make their case?"

"If I had to guess based on what he said, I would wager there are two reasons," the penitent said. "One, Fionn does not have a reputation for fondness for Leyans. Two, the reason they are willing to entertain the very notion of a peace is because they know what a threat the Imperium is. Why would they come to Tamaris itself, knowing that Laenus and Naris are here? It would only offer those two a chance to sabotage the talks."

"Holland, wherefore art thou so certain that Laenus means harm to Yssa? He has been nothing but the soul of grace and manners," Seva said softly.

"An adder is always venomous, even if it doesn't bite right away," Holland said quietly. "I know Laenus well."

"Thou dost hate him well, certes," the Queen said.

"Not without reason," Holland said. She hesitated when she saw the reproachful look in Seva's eyes. "I have been faithful to you, my lady, without hesitation and without question. Please trust me in this."

Seva took a deep breath and then nodded. "What thou sayest is true," the blonde said as she softened. "I trust that thou wouldst not lead me astray. What of Fionn and this deal with the Leyans?"

"It's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission," the penitent said with a wry smile. "At least listen to the case that the Leyans make. If you agree to a deal, you can then soften its delivery to the King. He'll listen to you, my lady, even if it requires some cunning to get him to honor the bargain."

"Thou art beginning to develop a knack for scheming, Holland," Seva said with a mild amusement. "Tamaris is rubbing off on thee."

"It's for a good cause," Holland said.

"And what shall I tell Fionn?"

"You're clever, Seva," the penitent said, leaning back against the couch. "You'll think of something."

Meanwhile, another conversation was taking place behind closed doors.

"You worry about nothing," Naris said smoothly, trailing her fingers across Laenus's muscular back. She was still wrapped in the sheets, but Laenus was sitting naked at the edge of the bed, brooding. He had not been pleased earlier, if his ferocity was anything to judge by. The elf had a handful of new bruises, but she didn't begrudge him that. They were accidental rather than intentionally left. He wasn't a cruel lover, just a rough one. "She may have the ear of the Queen, but the King is a proud creature fond of flattery. Give it a few months, and he'll be eating out of our hands."

"Ilex is not here accidentally, Naris," Laenus said bluntly. "She intends to put us to ruin. She is a vengeful creature."

"A persistent one, certainly," the elf said with amusement. "Perhaps she means to ruin you incidentally, but I think that your Invicta is here for another purpose. Isn't it far more likely that she heard the Calling? Saraqael worked his artifices in her more than in all the other Immortals—she is more sorcery than woman now. She would be most sensitive to the voice of Deus."

Laenus inhaled in a hiss. "Deus would choose her, wouldn't He?" he said bitterly. "They have always chosen her."

Naris stroked his back soothingly. "Are you angry, Laenus?" she murmured softly. "Because I can be the author of all her pain, should you wish it of me."

"And what would you get out of it, witch?" Laenus asked as he turned to face the elf laying in his bed. Her almond eyes were as inscrutable as always. He hated the way she could cloud his mind, though he did thoroughly enjoy all the things she did to his body. Elves were treacherous creatures at heart, which made their association perilous, but Saraqael had ordered she accompany him and who was he to argue with a Prince of Iron?

"I am a servant of the Princes of Iron," Naris said with a small smile. "They do not care who Deus's chosen is. If not her, then you. I think you are far less inclined to turn that power against them than your Invicta is."

"You know something," Laenus said suspiciously.

Naris smiled. "I like to think that I'm an astute observer of human nature," she said with amusement. "Watch your Invicta more closely, and you will see what I see." She sat up in bed and let the sheet pool in her lap. She had been spending a great deal of time watching Holland watch Seva over the past few weeks, which gave her an indication of where the Lady Penitent's thoughts lay. The woman was the Queen's faithful friend through and through, but there were subtle indications of other things. "So, what ever shall I do, Laenus? Ruin your Invicta, or let Deus shape her to His will instead of you?"

Laenus caught her by her chin and leaned in. "Need I even say it?" he murmured against her lips.

"It is done," Naris murmured slyly. Her eyelashes fluttered almost innocently at Laenus, but he knew Naris well enough now to know when her treacherous mind was at work.

An hour or so later, the elf was dressed again and ready to begin. It would be a complicated process, of course, but Naris was accustomed to getting what she wanted. The wait hardly mattered to a creature like herself. She had centuries of time. Saraqael certainly wouldn't rush what had already been set in motion with Ilex's punishment. Holland's, she corrected herself as she studied her reflection in one of the garden pools. She would have to work carefully around the former Immortal and part of that meant using the woman's chosen name.

"Lady Naris," the woman in question greeted curtly from behind her.

"Lady Penitent," Naris said with a smile, turning around. "I'm surprised to see you without Her Majesty. One would almost think the pair of you were joined at the hip. But then again, you are the charming Queen's hound, aren't you?"

"So they tell me," Holland said. There was certainly a great deal of distrust in those eyes, a sign that the penitent was at least a passable judge of character.

"The King is fortunate to have such a lovely wife," Naris commented. She noted the smallest hint of a frown on Holland's lips when she mentioned the King. "And she is fortunate to have such a staunch ally."

"Her Majesty is a good woman," Holland said brusquely.

"We don't need to be enemies, you know," Naris said. She smiled at the penitent. "I know what Laenus did to you, Lady Penitent, and I can assure you that I am not him. I would remind you that I am a slave. Do you think I enjoy being subject to the whims of a brute like him? You and I have more ground for amicability than enmity."

Holland paused, considering this. Naris had a point, as much as she was reluctant to admit it even in the privacy of her own thoughts. "I have no quarrel with you," Holland said. "But that does not make us friends, Lady Naris."

"Tell me something, one acquaintance to another, then," Naris said softly, approaching Holland. "If you and Her Majesty are so close, why haven't you told her that you hear the Calling?" It was a shot in the dark, but Naris was a good judge of people. She knew it was right on target when Holland's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. The former Immortal was good at keeping her face expressionless, but not quite good enough.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Holland said with affected indifference.

"You won't be able to keep that a secret forever, Lady Penitent," the elf said. Her green eyes were alight with that strange fire. "These things have a way of coming out."