“There was a fourth locket, too,” said Gella, “and I believe it was her own token. Perhaps the wizard held it and she got it back somehow. I saw it once, but I have never seen it again. I think she must have destroyed it. But I stole these. This one, which is mine, I shall keep and destroy so it may never be used against me in a spell. But this one, which I believe is the wizard’s, I shall give to you. I looked inside. The hairs are short and curled. As he is bald, I gather they came from elsewhere.”
Aedan took the locket. “I see. Go on. How does the empress fit into all this?” He had the sudden feeling of a pit yawning open beneath him. He sat on the edge of his chair, completely alert and sober now. His blood was racing.
“She planned to insure that the empress would not have a child, so that there would be no heir to the throne,” said Gella. “And if the emperor left no heir—”
“As the firstborn princess of the House of Roele and wife to the Duke of Boeruine, it would be her son who would succeed,” said Aedan. He pressed his hands down hard against the table to stop them from shaking.
Gella nodded. “She assigned me to the empress as her body servant and forced me to give her a potion every night from a vial that she gave me. I was to put several drops into her drink each night, and it would prevent her from conceiving a child. This I did, though I was loath to do it, but you must understand that I did not have any choice. So long as Duchess Laera held my token, I was helpless to resist.”
“A potion …” Aedan said, his mouth suddenly dry.
“Last night, that is, in the evening, before the empress was due to retire, Duchess Laera gave me a new vial, saying I was to use it instead. She said it was a new preparation, more efficient. I was to empty the entire contents of the little vial into her drink tonight, and she insisted I return and tell her when I did it. I did not want to do it, my lord, you must believe me, but I had no choice. I was afraid. When I came back to her tonight to tell her I had done as she commanded, she responded very strangely. She smiled in an evil way and nodded to herself, then turned to gaze out the window for a moment, as if deep in thought. I knew I might never have another chance, so I stole the lockets. I am very quick and light-fingered. It… it was my trade, you know.”
“And you gave her this new potion tonight…” said Aedan, his voice came out hoarse through a constricted throat.
“I fear it may render her permanently barren,” Gella said. “I hope there is an antidote. If that should be so, I pray that it is not too late—”
“The empress is dead,” said Aedan.
Gella gasped and gave out a small cry.
“She died in giving birth to an abomination,” Aedan said harshly. “It quickened within moments and tore its way out of her womb. It was a gorgon. The emperor killed it, and now I fear he may be driven mad with grief.”
“Oh, what have I done?” said Gella in a shocked whisper. She broke down and started sobbing. “I do not deserve to live!”
“But live you shall,” said Aedan. “You are coming back to Seaharrow with me. We shall deal with her ladyship, the duchess.”
* * * * *
Derwyn couldn’t sleep. He was too keyed up. He paced across the room, running his fingers through his hair, frantic with anxiety.
Laera sat on the bed, watching him and listening to him, thinking things couldn’t have gone more perfectly.
“It’s horrible,” Derwyn kept repeating. “Horrible. How could this have happened? The empress dead, the emperor raving, the child… His voice caught. “Dear gods! How can one call that nightmarish thing a child? That poor woman! That poor, poor woman! How she must have suffered!”
“She is suffering no longer,” Laera said. “She has found peace.”
“Peace! Peace? To die like that?” He closed his eyes. “I can only thank the gods she never lived to see the monster she gave birth to! What a horror! What a horror!”
“It was an abomination,” Laera said. “A gorgon child. An awnshegh.”
“You think I don’t know? You think I did not see? How could it have happened? How?”
“It must have been the gods,” said Laera. “That can be the only explanation.”
“The gods? You must be mad! You do not realize what you are saying!”
“How else could it have happened?” Laera asked. “You saw it with your own eyes. I saw it, too. When she went to bed, she was not with child. It happened within moments. Mere moments. We watched the monster child quicken. We saw her stomach swell. It was unnatural. Who else but the gods could have brought such a thing about?”
“But why? Why would they do it? Why would they make an innocent girl suffer so?”
“It was Michael,” Laera said. “They punished Michael for his sins.”
Derwyn stopped and gazed at her with astonishment. “He is your own brother!”
“Even a sister cannot turn a blind eye to the truth,” said Laera. “How many lives were lost because of Michael’s ruthless ambition? How many died needlessly in his campaigns of conquest? And how many died because he would not give in during the War of Rebellion? How many suffered because of my brother’s obsession with power and his thirst for blood? Or have you forgotten that it was Michael who took your father’s head?”
“No, I have not forgotten,” Derwyn said heavily. “How could anyone forget a thing like that? Was I not there to see it? I do not need you to remind me!”
“And now you defend him.”
“He is the emperor!”
“He killed your father.”
“Yes, damn you! But it was my father who had made war on him, not he who made war on my father!”
“And you were your father’s son. What of your duty to him? What of your loyalty? If you had so little loyalty to your own father, what loyalty can I expect as your wife?”
“Do not speak to me of loyalty, you who would condemn your own brother!”
“It is not I who have condemned him, but the gods,” said Laera. “Or can you deny the evidence of your own senses?”
Derwyn swallowed hard. His shoulders slumped. “No, I cannot. Much as I do not want to accept it, I can think of no other explanation.”
“I can,” said Aedan, standing in the doorway. He had opened it and walked in, hearing the last part of the conversation. “Why don’t you ask your wife how this awful tragedy has come to pass?”
“Aedan! What are you saying? What is the meaning of this intrusion?”
“Justice,” Aedan replied. “Justice is the meaning. Your wife is a foul sorceress, and it was a potion that she gave the empress that brought about the birth of the abomination. I am here for justice.”
“What?” said Derwyn. “Are you mad?”
“He must be,” Laera said. “The lord chamberlain seeks to find a scapegoat for this tragedy, and he has chosen me because I once rejected his advances.”
“My advances?” Aedan said. “It was you who seduced me, right here in this very castle. And it was your spite at me for breaking off our affair that ate at you like a disease for all these years that led you to this monstrous betrayal.”
“What nonsense is this?” asked Derwyn, staring at him with astonishment. He glanced at Laera.
“He lies,” said Laera. “He is desperate to pin the blame for this on someone, and I am his chosen target.”
“Aedan, I cannot believe you would stoop to this!” said Derwyn. “Where is your proof?”
“Does this look familiar, Derwyn?” Aedan asked, holding up a locket. “It is much like one your wife wears, is it not? It contains a lock of hair, a sorcerer’s token to be employed in the casting of a spell. One just like the token she took from you and wears around her neck, even as we speak. This one contains a token from your father’s wizard, Callador, her instructor in the sorcerous arts. And this one,” he said, holding up a second locket, “contains a token from the woman she used as a dupe, to slip her foul potion to the empress.”