Poisonwell
Page 41
Tyrus nodded and gestured to Mathon. “Go to the Preachán quarter—it’s on the western part of the city. Seek the aid of Bartimeus of the Cypher Inn. He will shelter you and aid you. He has no love of the Arch-Rike and I think he’ll be loyal to me. You will not stay hidden long, for the Arch-Rike has his spies throughout the city. They watch the docks vigilantly. Coming in from another way will aid in the deception.”
The Empress smiled with pure brilliance. “You have given us a spark of hope, Tyrus. If we can do nothing but interrupt Shirikant’s plans, it may aid you while you penetrate the Scourgelands. I do not think it will be difficult to topple the city from inside her defenses. She was designed to withstand an interminable siege, not a coup. But I assure you . . .” she added, reaching and grasping his forearm to emphasize her sincerity. Annon noticed how she communicated with all parts of her body—voice, eyes, and touch—aligning all three to help deliver her messages. “I assure you that we seek the Arch-Rike’s fall and will not harm the citizens of Kenatos if we can help it. We come as their liberators, though they will not see us in that light. Their minds have been poisoned against us. I have no desire to burn the Archives or purge knowledge from the city. Much of it is good and useful. As I told you before, his goal is to purge knowledge of himself from the land. If we are successful, I will add my records to the Archives personally.”
“Thank you,” Tyrus answered, his expression softening. “They are my people and they believe I’ve betrayed them. I will never be welcomed back to the city again. I knew this would happen. But the lead Archivist is named Possidius Adeodat. I do not believe he has seen through the Arch-Rike’s web of lies. But he may be the most reasonable man you can influence. In fact, he may make a fair Arch-Rike himself if given the chance. He’s never desired leadership, which probably serves him well.”
“I will seek him out,” she replied, lowering her hand. Annon noticed it was her right hand. “Is there anything else I can do to assist your journey?”
“You’ve already done so much,” Tyrus demurred.
She shook her head. “Do not think of it like that, Tyrus. You are bearing the greater burden. When you faced the horrors there before, you barely survived.” She reached over and took Mathon’s hand, squeezing it tenderly. “Going back will bring a flood of memories.”
“It already has,” Tyrus said.
She nodded. “That is your greatest danger. Those memories will attempt to unman you. They will rob your courage. They will wilt your resolve.” Her eyes burned with fiery determination. “Take with you my blessing. Take with you my strength. I know you can do this, Tyrus. I know that you can defeat the evils that roam that land. For all our sakes, you must. There has not been a man . . . not in a thousand years, who can do what you must do. Death will hunt you. Defy it. Hunger will threaten you. Defeat it. I have seen a man waste away for forty days without food and still not perish. When you are past the need for hunger, your mind will open to new truths. Expect it. Heed those truths. You are facing a horrible task. But you do not face it alone. My blessing goes with you. Should you need to regroup and heal, return here immediately. These caves will shelter you. What else can I do for you?”
Tyrus stared at her, his eyes shining with renewed determination. “Your faith in my cause was what I needed most to hear.”
“It is all that I have to give you,” she replied. “Bend your head. Let me give you my blessing.”
Tyrus obeyed, dipping his chin. The Empress stood on the tips of her boots and kissed the crown of his head. “Fare you well, Tyrus Paracelsus. When next you come to Kenatos, all the spirits your kind have trapped will be set free. Think of it, Tyrus.” She gripped his hands with both of hers. “Think of what that freedom will mean to the people. I long to loosen the bonds around the minds of my own people, to set them free of enmity and hate. In the end, that is the best we can do for one another. We set each other free.”
Tyrus looked at her, his expression almost startled. “My friend Drosta shared such a conviction. He saw the imprisonment of the spirits of Mirrowen as a great evil.”
“So it is,” she added, nodding. “There is nothing we crave so much as truth. And what did the ancients always say? The truth shall set you free.”
“Farewell, Dame Larei,” Tyrus said, bowing deeply. “You are the wisest of women. You have earned my trust.”
“You did not need to say it for me to know it,” she replied gravely. “Thank you, Master Tyrus, for saving my life. I hoped . . . we hoped . . . that you would choose to do so.” She took Mathon’s hand, her smile dazzling.
The Empress smiled with pure brilliance. “You have given us a spark of hope, Tyrus. If we can do nothing but interrupt Shirikant’s plans, it may aid you while you penetrate the Scourgelands. I do not think it will be difficult to topple the city from inside her defenses. She was designed to withstand an interminable siege, not a coup. But I assure you . . .” she added, reaching and grasping his forearm to emphasize her sincerity. Annon noticed how she communicated with all parts of her body—voice, eyes, and touch—aligning all three to help deliver her messages. “I assure you that we seek the Arch-Rike’s fall and will not harm the citizens of Kenatos if we can help it. We come as their liberators, though they will not see us in that light. Their minds have been poisoned against us. I have no desire to burn the Archives or purge knowledge from the city. Much of it is good and useful. As I told you before, his goal is to purge knowledge of himself from the land. If we are successful, I will add my records to the Archives personally.”
“Thank you,” Tyrus answered, his expression softening. “They are my people and they believe I’ve betrayed them. I will never be welcomed back to the city again. I knew this would happen. But the lead Archivist is named Possidius Adeodat. I do not believe he has seen through the Arch-Rike’s web of lies. But he may be the most reasonable man you can influence. In fact, he may make a fair Arch-Rike himself if given the chance. He’s never desired leadership, which probably serves him well.”
“I will seek him out,” she replied, lowering her hand. Annon noticed it was her right hand. “Is there anything else I can do to assist your journey?”
“You’ve already done so much,” Tyrus demurred.
She shook her head. “Do not think of it like that, Tyrus. You are bearing the greater burden. When you faced the horrors there before, you barely survived.” She reached over and took Mathon’s hand, squeezing it tenderly. “Going back will bring a flood of memories.”
“It already has,” Tyrus said.
She nodded. “That is your greatest danger. Those memories will attempt to unman you. They will rob your courage. They will wilt your resolve.” Her eyes burned with fiery determination. “Take with you my blessing. Take with you my strength. I know you can do this, Tyrus. I know that you can defeat the evils that roam that land. For all our sakes, you must. There has not been a man . . . not in a thousand years, who can do what you must do. Death will hunt you. Defy it. Hunger will threaten you. Defeat it. I have seen a man waste away for forty days without food and still not perish. When you are past the need for hunger, your mind will open to new truths. Expect it. Heed those truths. You are facing a horrible task. But you do not face it alone. My blessing goes with you. Should you need to regroup and heal, return here immediately. These caves will shelter you. What else can I do for you?”
Tyrus stared at her, his eyes shining with renewed determination. “Your faith in my cause was what I needed most to hear.”
“It is all that I have to give you,” she replied. “Bend your head. Let me give you my blessing.”
Tyrus obeyed, dipping his chin. The Empress stood on the tips of her boots and kissed the crown of his head. “Fare you well, Tyrus Paracelsus. When next you come to Kenatos, all the spirits your kind have trapped will be set free. Think of it, Tyrus.” She gripped his hands with both of hers. “Think of what that freedom will mean to the people. I long to loosen the bonds around the minds of my own people, to set them free of enmity and hate. In the end, that is the best we can do for one another. We set each other free.”
Tyrus looked at her, his expression almost startled. “My friend Drosta shared such a conviction. He saw the imprisonment of the spirits of Mirrowen as a great evil.”
“So it is,” she added, nodding. “There is nothing we crave so much as truth. And what did the ancients always say? The truth shall set you free.”
“Farewell, Dame Larei,” Tyrus said, bowing deeply. “You are the wisest of women. You have earned my trust.”
“You did not need to say it for me to know it,” she replied gravely. “Thank you, Master Tyrus, for saving my life. I hoped . . . we hoped . . . that you would choose to do so.” She took Mathon’s hand, her smile dazzling.
