Princess Sendel received the news with no sign of grief or pleasure. "Are you certain?" she asked, stepping forward to further overwhelm the man.
"Yes, Highness." The man licked his lips, eyes darting to Ileaha’s bared sword. "Commander Vorclase received a wend-whisper, not a decem ago. The message said that everyone was dead, that the King was dead, the entire army. Everyone."
"Vorclase?"
"H-he said we were to carry out the King’s standing orders," the man said, eyes dropping to the pile of candlesticks in a manner which suggested they had nothing to do with anyone’s orders. Sendel didn’t seem to notice.
"The Four spare me from loyal men," she said, and turned to Cor-Ibis. "This changes matters, somewhat."
"Yes. Your Majesty."
Islantar spoke before Cor-Ibis could say more.
"If King Xarus died on the battlefield," the Kierash said. "Who summoned the gate which brought us here?"
Estarion had no issue, which meant Sendel was now Queen. She made short work of taking control, simply commandeering everyone they encountered. No-one resisted, despite her Ibisian escort. Vorclase had apparently vanished after passing on the news, failing to leave anyone in command. Sendel rolled over the few remaining castle inhabitants as inexorably as the Conflagration.
Abruptly, in the middle of ordering a search for Vorclase, Sendel stopped and turned to Cor-Ibis. "We had best see about these friends of yours," she said. "It occurs to me that Xarus' standing orders for the treatment of captives may not be benefiting them."
By this time, she had collected quite an entourage, but still led them personally, back down the stairs, passing the door they had used to enter Falcon Black. The guard Ileaha had overcome was probably still behind it. They entered the barracks without opposition, ignored the half-constructed shell of the silver giant and strode through empty rooms.
The cliff cells were precisely that: tiny chambers chipped into stone, high up one side of the rock the castle stood upon. They were rough and cramped, and a cold wind gusted through the crude barred windows. There was not even room for pallets, and their occupants were sitting with their knees up against their chins and their hands in blockish manacles. Only the Mersian Herald and the other kaschen. Avahn was not there.
"Keridahl." Herald N’Taive looked worn and hungry, but otherwise unaffected by her capture. She quickly took in the sight of Ileaha and Kel ar Haedrin still armed amidst the Decian escort, then bowed her head politely to Sendel. "They took Kerin Avahn through there," she said, indicating a solid door at the end of the row of cells.
The new Queen looked at Cor-Ibis. "Kerin Avahn? You seem over-burdened by heirs on this venture, Keridahl." She gestured to one of her followers to free the Herald and the kaschen, and another to open the end door. "My brother called this the steeping room," the Queen continued, and her eyes were grim. "I will give you this comfort, Keridahl. Xarus required them alive for the next stage of this process."
After such encouraging words, Medair could only stare toward the room in horror. Cor-Ibis and Ileaha had both moved quickly forward and disappeared beyond, and Medair followed as if on leading-strings.
It smelled of herbs, and a fresh, strong breeze gusted in through the windows. The room was full of benches and sinks, vats and glassware. Avahn was in the centre, shut within a box formed entirely of glass. He was naked, unconscious, and almost completely submerged in a virulent blue gel. Only his face unsubmerged, his head supported by a small block beneath his neck.
"Open it." Ileaha’s voice cracked with horror. Not waiting for help, she tried to wrench the lid off the box and it shifted slightly, obviously heavy. A wave of odour escaped into the room. More herbs, with an acrid underlay which burnt the nose. Cor-Ibis came to Ileaha’s aid and together they lifted the lid away, and lowered it to one side. The scent immediately thickened and Medair’s eyes filled with tears, as if she were cutting onions. She tried to breathe shallowly, imagining what it must be like for Avahn, completely immersed in the noxious stuff.
"Find my brother’s assistants," the Queen ordered, sending a few of her entourage scuttling. "And fetch water." Her nose wrinkled in distaste. "Xarus kept a few close to help him with his experiments. They may know how to undo this."
"This is not an enchantment," Cor-Ibis said, touching Avahn’s forehead carefully. "Some kind of drug?"
Ileaha, her face pinched, simply hauled Avahn out of the box and deposited him on one of the benches. She began to cough, her eyes streaming, and turned away to gasp for air. "Some kind of poison." She was liberally smeared with the blue gel.
Against the background of Sendel’s no-nonsense commands, Ileaha, Medair and Cor-Ibis rubbed Avahn clean and sluiced him off. He did not so much as stir. He was breathing, if shallowly, but his temperature was high and he quickly began to stream with sweat. Even from her brief unshielded exposure Ileaha found that she could no longer feel her hands and felt nauseated, but she did not seem to sicken further. Estarion’s assistants could not be found.
"They will be located," Queen Sendel said, standing in the doorway as Kel ar Haedrin and one of the kaschen replaced the glass lid in the hopes of cutting down the fumes. "Vorclase, too, will be fetched back. Our doctors may be able to do something, if any escaped conscription. Until then–" She shook her head. "I have much to do. Accept my hospitality, Keridahl, and when there is less confusion, we will treat for Decia’s future."
Cor-Ibis hesitated, and Medair guessed that he was not happy to have Islantar guesting in Decian territory, even at such a juncture.
"You doubt?" Sendel asked, not surprised. "We have no army. Our allies gave as many men as they could spare. To threaten you, let alone your collection of heirs, would only invite retribution, and no kidnap plot could rescue us from that. At this point Keridahl, to save Decia from Palladian retaliation, I would happily accept truth spell or even geas. You will not take harm from me, and I will take every measure I can to ensure that my word is kept by those I command."
There was a short pause, then Cor-Ibis nodded. "We will come to some arrangement," he said.
Sendel did not seem offended. "Wise of you."
"We must discover who brought us here," Cor-Ibis continued. "The question of what created those gates is of highest importance. I am uneasy."
"More searching," Sendel said, not visibly impressed. "We will turn out the caves beneath the castle, if it seems necessary. But first, let us break bread, and gather our strength."
CHAPTER NINE
The spasms always started with a trembling in the hands, which gave them just enough warning to reach the bed before Avahn’s back snapped into an arch. His feet drummed against the bed-board, the veins stood out in his throat, and his face turned an alarming purple shade. Then, just when it seemed as if he would vibrate off the bed despite their best efforts, he would go limp and they would anxiously check to see if he was still breathing. It had gone on all day.
"They’re getting weaker," Medair said this time, as Avahn turned from iron to jelly beneath her hands. Ileaha didn’t answer. Exhausted, her eyes swollen pink from exhaustion and the effects of the poisons Avahn’s body was trying to purge, she was focused on her task to the exclusion of all else. Filling the basin again, she silently handed Medair a cloth and together they bathed him, washing away the oily sweat. Then they soaped and cleaned their hands, over and over, until they no longer felt quite so numb and the acrid odour was almost gone.