‘Ricin,’ he said. ‘The deadliest poison in Hightspall, the most agonising death, and there is no antidote.’
‘How did it happen?’
‘I thought myself well protected. I had employed every protection at my disposal, yet still the assassin got through. The poison was meant for me.’
‘It wasn’t Tobry,’ Rix gasped.
‘But he knows about the plot? You’re his best friend. You tell him everything.’
‘He knows nothing. I dared not tell him.’
The chancellor leaned forwards again, eyes impaling Rix. He felt like a worm with a hook through its guts.
‘If Lagger is innocent, only one person can be guilty.’
Rix kept silent, clinging to the pathetic illusion that not naming his mother lessened the betrayal.
‘That poison is both a trademark and a challenge,’ said the chancellor.
‘I–I don’t understand.’
‘Ricin comes from the castor oil plant, also called Ricinus, which is on your house crest. Poison is a woman’s weapon, isn’t it? And she’ll try again.’
Rix stared at the dead dog, afraid to speak.
‘Name the name,’ said the chancellor inexorably.
‘I — can’t betray my own!’
‘If you don’t, you’re betraying your country at a time of war. That won’t just bring you down, it will topple your house.’
‘My house?’ Rix whispered.
‘Your country comes before your house — always.’
‘If you know who made the threat, why do I have to say it.’
‘Traitors must be named. Name her!’
‘I’m sure she didn’t mean it,’ said Rix. ‘She retracted it at once.’
‘Then where’s the difficulty?’
‘Naming her is her death sentence.’
‘Such a cunning, ruthless and well-connected woman is far more use to me alive than dead — especially if her life, and her house, relies on my favour.’
Waves of relief coursed over Rix. The chancellor was right. Lady Ricinus could help him in all kinds of ways. He met the chancellor’s eyes.
‘Name the plotter,’ said the chancellor.
The hook twisted in Rix’s guts. He tried to speak, but could not; tried again.
‘It was Mother,’ he gasped, staring at the black tiles. ‘Lady Ricinus made the threat.’
CHAPTER 87
Sickness churned in Rix’s belly. He had broken the greatest taboo of the noble houses. He had betrayed his mother and was utterly dishonoured.
The chancellor bared his teeth. He had all he needed to bring Lady Ricinus down. ‘So House Ricinus falls, brought down from within.’
It was like a blow to the groin, as agonising as it was unexpected.
‘But … but …’ Rix felt like a stupid schoolboy, crushed by a master and a rule he could not understand. ‘You gave me no choice — you said, “My country first, always.”’
‘That was a test, and you failed it.’
‘A test?’
‘You’re brave, strong and a born leader. Had your other qualities matched those, you would have been a great asset to me in the fight-back. But you’re a bitter disappointment, Rixium. You failed in the most vital quality of all — loyalty.’
‘Loyalty,’ Rix said numbly.
‘I lied to test you. A chancellor must put his country first. However the first duty of the heir to a noble house is always to protect his house.’
‘I was protecting it!’ Rix cried.
‘By condemning your own mother? If you could not even show her loyalty, how could I expect it? How could I ever trust you?’
The chancellor pulled the bell and said to the two guards who came at once, ‘Escort him from my palace.’
Rix stumbled across the snow-covered grounds towards a side gate to Palace Ricinus, his head reeling. He was lower than the street scum down at the docks, where life was bought and sold for a length of copper wire or a worn pair of shoes. And what if the chancellor tried Lady Ricinus for high treason, and called Rix as the chief witness against her? Shame burned him like mage-fire.
Beyond the wall, a rocket soared high, exploding in multi-coloured pyrotechnics, but the cheering only made things worse. Morale had to be maintained and, despite his mother’s treason and her sickening hypocrisy, there was no hope of the Honouring being cancelled. For the nobility, the well connected and the disgustingly rich, it would be the high point in their celebrations.
He sneaked into Palace Ricinus via a side door and headed for his mother’s rooms. First, he must abase himself for disappearing for a day and a half, leaving the portrait uncompleted. Then, warn her that the chancellor knew about her plot, though how was he to do that without revealing that he had betrayed her?
Rix was tempted to say that the chancellor had told him about the treason, but lying to his mother would only compound his shame. And the worst of it was, Lady Ricinus did not make idle threats. Rix knew she had meant the poison for the chancellor.
He stopped halfway, unable to face her. Knowing himself to be a craven coward, he slunk away to his tower and sank into a scalding tub, shivering uncontrollably. For a man so dishonoured there were only two ways out — to take his own life in atonement, or renounce all worldly things and ride into the wilderness, never to return.
But he could not do either. He had a duty to defend his city, look after his people and protect his house. If it could be protected from the chancellor who, he felt sure, was determined to destroy it. And Rix had given him the means to do so.
He took no food. His stomach would have thrown it up. He drove himself up to his studio and spent the afternoon and evening working at a furious pace. Completing the portrait could never make up for what he had done, but he would not compound the betrayal by breaking his word and ruining the Honouring.
‘That’s it,’ said Tobry, who had come in silently. ‘Don’t do another stroke.’
‘It’s the most hateful thing I’ve ever done.’
‘It’s repellent, yet perfect. You’ve captured every aspect of Lord Ricinus, the bad and the good. Even Lady Ricinus will be pleased.’
The thought gave Rix no pleasure, even if such a miracle did happen. ‘In my entire life, Mother has never been pleased with me.’
He stepped back, studied the overall effect, then examined the portrait from one side, then the other. ‘It’s not bad,’ he said grudgingly. ‘Better than I could have hoped ten days ago.’ He began to clean the brushes he could never use again. ‘Where have you been?’
‘Getting Tali and Rannilt into the city, unseen.’
‘Where are they?’
‘Down in the tunnels.’
‘Is Rannilt — ?’
‘She hasn’t woken. I’ll bring them up late tonight, once it’s safe, and put them to bed under my bed.’ Tobry rubbed his bruised eyes. ‘I’m going to have a lie down.’
‘Now? I thought we’d have a drink.’
‘To celebrate completing the portrait?’
‘If you like.’
‘I’m too exhausted.’
‘Then sit with me for a minute; I need to talk about something.’
Tobry lay on the settee and closed his eyes. Rix fetched a bottle and took a swig of a red wine so strong that he could feel the enamel being etched off his front teeth. ‘I’m in trouble, Tobe.’
‘Thought you might be. What have you done now?’
‘I’ve betrayed my mother,’ Rix blurted.
Tobry stared at him.
Between gulps, Rix told him the bitter tale.
Tobry got up, poured himself a goblet and topped up Rix’s.
‘I make no excuses,’ said Rix. ‘There are none. I’m dishonoured and I can’t go on.’
Tobry did not speak.
‘Say it!’ Rix cried.
‘Considering the ruin of House Lagger, and my part in it, I’m in no position to judge anyone.’ Tobry sipped, grimaced, then took both goblets and the bottle and threw them out the window. ‘Wait here. Don’t do anything stupid.’
He went down the steps. The fishhooks were back in Rix’s belly; he felt as though he was torn open inside. Seeking any distraction, he took a huge, primed canvas from the storeroom, set it up and redrew the murder cellar in a series of quick strokes. Painting normally soothed him, but this sickening divination only made things worse. Tobry reappeared with an ancient, dusty bottle and two goblets.