She was already pulling out coins from her pocket when the priest waved her away.
“What has happened to her?” he asked, kneeling beside the bench.
“I’m not sure I can say. She caught fever a few days ago, and while she recovered at first, it’s come back far worse.”
Nole put his hands on Zusa’s face, pressed his forehead against hers, and then closed his eyes. As he began to pray, Haern lay down on his own bench, unable to keep up his concentration. The pain in his shoulder came roaring back to life, and he gritted his teeth to endure. Meanwhile, white light flashed around the priest’s hands, then vanished.
“I’ve seen this before,” he said, standing. “Though never quite this extreme. Does she chew crimleaf?”
“No,” Alyssa said. “Why?”
“Because that’s what this reminds me of. Sometimes people try far too much at once, and it gets into them like a disease. Usually it only makes them sick for a day or two, but this…”
“The Violet,” Alyssa said. “It must be that.”
“Violet?”
“Stronger crimleaf. I can’t explain much more than that, priest.”
Nole shrugged.
“I will do what I can. Logan, help me carry her into my room. She deserves a far better bed than this hard bench.”
Alyssa slid aside so they might take her. She watched them go, worry evident in her eyes. Haern eyed her from upon his back, feeling incredibly tired.
“You love her, don’t you?” he asked.
“Like she was my sister.”
“I wouldn’t know what that’s like. I had only one brother.”
She glanced his way.
“What happened to him?”
Haern smiled even as the sadness and shame of it stung him.
“I killed him at my father’s request. I haven’t thought about him in years.”
Alyssa didn’t seem to know what to say. She stared at the door where Zusa had vanished within. Wringing her hands, she settled into the bench and pulled a blanket over her.
“I did the right thing, didn’t I?” she asked. “Letting the elves stay?”
“You ask the wrong person,” Haern said, closing his eyes. “I’m still in the dark. Why were you helping them? What do they have to do with you? And just what is this Violet?”
He heard Alyssa sigh.
“Laurie Keenan’s wealth has faded, so that his only real source of wealth comes from his domination of the crimleaf trade. But recently we heard rumors of this new leaf, which the Merchant Lords were calling Violet. Everyone said the same thing, and I tried it myself to confirm it: the leaf is a hundred times more potent than crimleaf. The catch is that it only grows in the Quellan Forest. Something about the trees there, or the elves, I don’t know. For two years, the merchants have tried growing it elsewhere without success. So now they’ve moved on to a new strategy.”
“The elves,” Haern said. “That’s what is causing all this conflict?”
“Partly. Ingram’s hatred of them is well known, and he’s always been stirring up trouble. This time, though, he’s gone too far, and he’s clueless as to how badly the merchants have manipulated him to do so. He wants concessions of land, believing it’d be for his loggers and his boats. Since the elves have killed so many, he thinks this a fair compensation, as well as a way to cease the bloodshed.”
“It won’t work, though,” Haern said, thinking of the look on Laryssa’s face. “They won’t give an inch, will they?”
Alyssa sighed.
“No, I don’t think they will. There are some who wish to avoid war, and might consider it. But there are many elves who hope for otherwise…”
“So you coming here, helping the elves…it was all to protect Lord Keenan’s investments?”
“Is that what you think of me?” she asked, and the cold fury in her voice made him open his eyes. “That my wealth, and that of the Trifect, is all that matters? I saw a war coming, Watcher, one Laurie failed to prevent on his own. I wanted to find a way to stop it. I know we have our sins, but the Merchant Lords are worse. They have no stake in anything, no land, no heritage. They have their boats, their gold, and their vices. Violet is dangerous, yet they’ll flood all of Dezrel with it to fill their coffers. At least we have tried to build an empire of mines, farms, villages. Ulrich, and those like him, will burn Neldar to the ground if they so desire. They’ll sail their boats through a thousand floating corpses if it satisfies their greed.”
Haern stared, unflinching against her glare.
“Why am I here?” he asked. “Why really?”
“Because Taras Keenan was a kind, worthy heir to his father’s legacy, and that Wraith split him into pieces and left his newborn child sobbing amid the gore. I brought you here for vengeance.”
“And that is all you see of me, then, a weapon at your disposal?”
“Of course,” she said. “Is that not what you are? Dezrel’s greatest killer?”
He settled back down on the bench, shifting so his bad shoulder would be comfortable. He thought of the awesome skill the Wraith had displayed in their fight. How easily he’d won.
“I don’t know anymore,” he whispered.
13
“Laurie’s resistance to your men sets a dangerous precedent,” said Egar as he sampled from a bowl of fruits set between him and Ingram by one of the servants.
“Yeah, well he’s dead now,” said Ingram. “Good to know at least one of the gods has a sense of justice.”
“There’s still the matter of his wife, and if they’re hiding the Watcher. If the masses start thinking you aren’t in control…”
“Enough,” Ingram said, waving his hand. “I’ve another round of hangings coming tonight, all to goad that bastard out. Never had such a wonderful excuse to clear my dungeons, either. All those bodies swinging will make sure the people know who runs this city.”
“But still, you should press Madelyn to turn them over, or at the least allow an inspection of her mansion. It’s shameful enough the Watcher escaped your dungeons, let alone with the Wraith openly mocking you.”
“Enough!” Ingram roared. “Do you think I’m daft? Traitors house elves, mercenaries are accepting coin to fight against me, a vigilante openly defies my rule, and it seems every night some new lord or lady dies in their bed. Worst part is, I can’t send my damn soldiers after any of them. Too many cowards, all. At least the elves have the courtesy to admit they’re the ones killing our people who enter their cursed woods.”
He took a drink to calm himself. When he drained it, he held it out for a servant to refill. As he did, the first of their guests arrived, and it was not who he expected.
“Lady Madelyn,” Ingram said, standing. “You surprise me.”
Madelyn lowered her head in greeting. She wore dark mourning clothes, but her face was uncovered, and even sported a hint of rouge. Her long ponytail was wrapped about her neck, as if it were a collection of necklaces. Escorting her was a large mercenary, enormously muscled and with a greatsword on his back.
“There will be time to grieve, but not now,” she said, taking a seat. The mercenary remained standing behind her.
“I’d prefer all weapons be left outside,” Egar said, raising an eyebrow.
“Given recent events, I go nowhere unless Torgar is with me to keep me safe.”
