A distant noise, like paper falling to the floor, came, but Kel ar Haedrin shook her head. Medair silently counted to ten to keep herself still, and on nine heard the unmistakable sound of a body falling to the ground, and Ileaha’s voice, saying softly: "Clear."
When Medair rounded the corner, Ileaha was carefully cleaning a small knife, and the figure at her feet was as still as Jedda las Theomain had been. And Jedda was another thing Medair needed to consider, when circumstances gave her time to focus her thoughts. She should not forget that she was not necessarily safe among Ibisians.
A glance down the corridor showed an open area, a station for the guards who watched over the interrogation rooms. One booted foot was all that was visible to suggest another crumpled figure. The work of a Velvet Sword.
Kel ar Haedrin was already working on the bar of the door. In a matter of moments they had it open. The room beyond was small, and lushly overwhelmed by a cushioned bed, rugs, a soft chair. It was a prison with all the accoutrements of the bedchamber of a noblewoman, including the noblewoman.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The woman was perhaps forty. She stood very upright in the centre of the room, arms folded. The room was obviously a cell, despite its luxuries, but the woman’s stance was as imperious as an Empress in her throne room.
After a pause, Cor-Ibis said: "Princess Sendel?"
"As you see, Keridahl," the woman replied, coldly. She surveyed their small band, eyes disdainful in a thoroughly Decian face: bronze skin, high cheekbones and a hawk nose. Her composure was formidable, though it cracked when she discovered Islantar at Ileaha’s elbow. She eyed the boy in surprise, then turned back to Cor-Ibis. "This is not a counter strike."
"Not precisely, Highness," Cor-Ibis replied, ever-courteous. "Your brother’s forces were defeated, and he struck at us with a gate as he fled, transporting us here. We have eluded capture, thus far."
"Have you indeed?" The princess strode out of the cell and looked around impatiently, unperturbed by the corpse which lay on the floor. "A quick and decisive battle, it must have been. Well, you need not fear that I will raise the alarm. I objected to Xarus' latest scheme, and rightly so, it sounds to me. He saw fit to confine me here. Expanding Decia’s borders is one thing; throwing everything into a fool’s obsession with the past is another. How many Decian born did he waste against Athere’s walls?"
"There were very few survivors," Cor-Ibis replied.
"And he has slunk back to lick his wounds? Your abduction would be, what, an attempt at revenge or a clutch for bargaining chips?" The princess did not hide her disgust. "Defeat is not a thing Xarus has ever been able to accept. He will not treat you kindly if you are captured."
"No." Cor-Ibis glanced at Ileaha, indicating that she should check the other rooms. "Three of our party have been captured, and we must continue to seek them out. Please accept our protection, if you wish it."
Princess Sendel looked amused. "You may accept mine, Keridahl. There are those still loyal to me in Falcon Black, and I have no interest in prolonging hostilities with Palladium."
As Cor-Ibis negotiated polite obligation with the princess, Kel ar Haedrin opened another of the rooms off the corridor, revealing a Decian youth of about sixteen. His fine tailoring was crumpled, and he eyed the small band of Ibisians with disbelief. One hand strayed to his side, instinctively seeking an absent sword, but Princess Sendel forestalled any confrontation, turning from Cor-Ibis to eye the young man disdainfully.
"You, here?" she asked. "What became of your ambition to stride through the ashes of Athere?"
The youth glanced at Ileaha’s bared sword, held far too close for any enemy’s comfort. A shift of his coppery features revealed a distinct resemblance to Princess Sendel. Her son, Medair guessed.
"It remains," he said, with grim resolve. "I will see the rightful heir on the Silver Throne."
"Yet you are here," the princess repeated.
"My heart might be with my uncle’s cause, Madam, but my duty lies with you," said the youth. "I could not fight at his side while he had you imprisoned."
"Vastly pretty," said Princess Sendel, contemptuously. "Fortune favours you, Thessan. This affecting sentiment appears to have saved your life."
"There is no-one else here, Keridahl," Kel ar Haedrin said in an undertone, as Thessan stared at the princess.
"What do you mean?" he demanded. "Where is the King?"
"Would that I knew." Princess Sendel gathered up her skirts, out of the path of the thin line of blood advancing from the guard’s body. "We will find him, shall we? And ask of his war, of his splendid victories?"
"Princess, we must search for our companions," Cor-Ibis said, ignoring the exchange. "Can you suggest where they might be held?"
"The cliff cells, most likely," Princess Sendel said, earning a scandalised look from her son.
"Mother, you can’t aid the enemy!" he said, shifting uneasily between Ileaha and Kel ar Haedrin. His gaze settled on Cor-Ibis. "Why are you here, White Snake?" he spat. "Have you run from Decia’s soldiers to try and strike at Falcon Black?"
"At this moment, I seek only three of my own," Cor-Ibis said, mildly. "Ileaha, if you would be so good?"
Obediently, Ileaha gripped Thessan’s arm and propelled him firmly back toward the cell.
"Wait!" he protested. "At least tell me how the battle progresses! Have Athere’s walls been breached yet?"
"No." Medair spoke quietly. "The war is over, the battle lost. Athere stands. I sounded the Horn of Farak and Decia no longer has an army."
Thessan flinched, incredulity warring with fury as he stared at her. Then he surged forward and spat. Moisture flecked Medair’s cheek even as Ileaha quickly pulled him back, then closed and locked the door.
"Medair– " Ileaha began, but Medair shook her head.
"That is something I cannot hide from," she said, wiping her face with tired deliberation. She could feel Cor-Ibis at her back, not touching her, but close by. "My choice cost their lives."
"Medair an Rynstar." Princess Sendel eyed Medair with lively interest, but not the hatred displayed by her son. "None of the tales of your rebirth suggested you would side with the Ibisians."
"With Palladium," Medair corrected. She was slowly finding it easier to accept that decision, or futile to continue to argue against herself, since it was beyond her power to change. Her Emperor had not given her absolution, had not provided the certainty of right and wrong, but hind-sight was offering her no better choice, much as she would be hated for it. She turned slightly, so that she could see Cor-Ibis' expressionless face. "I could not watch Athere fall."
"You should find Xarus' protégé, the one he thinks belongs on Palladium’s throne," the princess said. Dark Decian eyes studied Medair. "But perhaps that issue is dead, now."
"Perhaps," Medair said. Killing the supposed descendant of her Emperor, rightful heir or not, was another thing she could not think too hard on, until it was time to face it.
There was little of subterfuge in Princess Sendel’s progress. She marched off down the corridor and collared the first person she encountered, a man whose arms were full of silver candlesticks. He seemed more afraid of Sendel than the Ibisians cautiously following the princess.
"Where is my brother?" the princess asked, as the man dropped most of the candlesticks on the floor. He gulped, looked left and right, then said weakly: "The King is dead."