“Not if it’s a coordinated event and multiple councils secede at the same time. It is either a distraction or part of a larger purpose. I imagine this is not a localised action,” Jerrol said. “The bigger concern is that the whole council has been turned, along with the town’s spiritual leader. They control the voice of the town. Someone has been very busy, and no one has noticed.”
“This has the feel of the Ascendants. They were very persuasive. They were able to make people do things that they would not normally do. And the person would have no memory of doing it,” Birlerion said, his voice pensive. “But the Lady took all the Ascendants with her, or so I understand, so it can’t be.”
“We don’t have enough information. Who was the visitor? Who are the new council advisors and who sent them? There seems to be a network of new players involved, and we don’t know anything about them. I think that is our first step. Find out who the advisors are and where they came from and most importantly of all, what they are saying.
“Someone is coordinating them. We need to find out who. Can you make a copy of this and return it, Jennery? Good work. And then, we need to get some sleep and start again in the morning. I’ve had enough excitement for one day!”
Chapter 11
Chapterhouse, Old Vespers
The Chapterhouse was quiet. The scholars were slumbering, all except one. A slender wraith slipped through the corridors until she reached the open garden in the centre. Listening to the sounds of the fountain, she fumbled for the stone bench before seating herself; turning her face up to the night sky, she waited.
The moonlight bathed her face, leaching the colour from her skin, from her robes. She sat as if carved from living stone, breathing in the night scents of rosemary and broom planted in the beds behind her, tasting the metallic tang of water.
Combined with the sound of the gentle patter of the water tumbling in the fountain, she knew where she was. She breathed in the quiet night as she listened; something had woken her up and sent her scurrying through the halls like a mouse. The singing tension that had been present since she had awoken faded. Taelia sat quietly, waiting for what she knew not.
She dreamed of tall men and women dressed in high-necked silvery-green uniforms. Their silver eyes glinted with purpose as they prepared for battle. They waited. They had been waiting for centuries. She dreamed of a Captain. Newly claimed with silver eyes in a precious face she had never seen yet knew. She reached out a gentle hand to caress his cheek, and his lips curved into a soft smile just for her.
She jumped as a hand gripped her shoulder. Taelia found herself curled up on the bench, her cheek lying on the gritty stone. She slowly sat up, swinging her legs over and steadying herself, gripping the seat with her hands on either side. Whatever had woken her up had gone.
“Taelia, what are you doing out here? Asleep, where all can see you?” Torsion’s voice was sharp.
Taelia turned her head towards Torsion’s voice. “Something was wrong,” she said, her voice blurred with confusion. “But I don’t know what.”
“Well, sleeping on the bench in public view won’t help you figure it out.”
Taelia blushed. “Am I? I don’t remember, where am I?”
“You’re in the central courtyard, and our fellow scholars are staring. Come, let me take you back to your room.” Torsion lifted her to her feet, his fingers gripping her shoulders painfully.
“Where have you been? When did you return?” Taelia was confused. She remembered retiring to her room last night and awakening suddenly, but after that, she didn’t remember leaving her room, nor had she expected Torsion to wake her.
Torsion hesitated before replying, the moment lost. “It’s a little after six in the morning,” he replied, guiding her tentative steps out of the courtyard. There were, in fact, a few curious scholars gathering at the refectory windows.
“Something woke me up,” Taelia muttered.
“Do you remember what?”
Taelia’s brow creased as she thought. “I heard Jerrol, or was it Jennery? Are they together? I thought Jerrol fled on his own.”
“Jerrol? What need has he to flee? I thought the King kept him on a tight leash?” Taelia felt him tense as he steered her down the corridors back to her room.
“The Prince accused him of treason, threatened to execute him.”
“Then he’s lucky he’s not dead,” Torsion said with exasperation. “How did he escape?”
“I don’t know.” Taelia turned her fearful face towards Torsion. “You can’t believe it’s true.”
Torsion squeezed her arm and brought them to a halt outside her door. “I believe he is capable of anything. He always follows his own rules. You should know that, you’ve been there, you’ve paid the price for his mistakes.” He pushed open the door and guided Taelia in.
“That’s not true, and you know it.” Taelia pulled her arm out of his grasp and turned to block the doorway.
Torsion huffed and pushed her in, his veiled strength easily overpowering her attempted stand. “You know what I mean. He is too eager to fight when he should talk. He defaults to the blade when reason should prevail.”
Taelia drew herself up, her face pale. Her voice was hard when she spoke. “I thought better of you, Torsion. I thought you were his friend.”
“I am his friend. Friends recognise faults. They don’t ignore them. He is my friend despite his propensity for violence.” He took a deep breath and softened his voice at the sight of her rigid face. “Taelia, I can help him. What did you see?”
Taelia shook her head; anger coursed through her, making her jaw ache.
“I’m sorry, Taelia. He is my friend; he’s like a brother to me. I’m just not as blind to his faults as you are. I can help him, but
