Luminous

98 - Burden on the Land

Baron Hadrian and his two squires spent the rest of the day questioning the one-eyed followers of Light of Lashtiri, to no benefit whatsoever. They insisted, in suspiciously similar wording, they had donated their eyes willingly towards the betterment of Latakia. There was not the slimmest hint of a link to the kidnapped Greeneyes in the brothel. Although Dizadh had already agreed to testify, they might need more eyewitness accounts if they were to convince Lady Jaise to boycott a key trade partner.

Once his three subordinates had stolen away amid the falling darkness to Amplevale, Simon in tow, Gillian slipped off for a stakeout of the Pleasure Lane. Healer Hasif could very well use this opening to quietly dispose of evidence—namely, the Dolls. It depended on how threatened she was feeling, how threatened they were having her feel. Whether she would risk making a move and destroy evidence, or decide staying put and projecting an air of innocence would suffice.

The morning after, Coris entered the Hadrians' chambers, where his parents, friends and subordinates have gathered for a meeting. The question of what had kept he and Meya occupied in the dreary prison cell was answered by the thick book bursting with papers, nestled under his arm.

"Good morning, all." He strode briskly to join the congregation. Frenix's eyes followed the book as Coris deposited it on his father's desk.

"Have you been giving her reading lessons?" He asked, eyes narrowed.

"I have. Why? Do you take issue with that?" Coris extracted the papers from between the pages of the book. They were slightly wrinkled, covered in words written in large, clumsy, childlike print.

Frenix gawked.

"She's in jail! And pregnant!" He cried. Coris shrugged as he scanned the pieces of paper, probably spotting patterns among Meya's misspelled words.

"All the more reason to. Quality education works well to keep her mind off our worrisome state of affairs." He turned to Christopher, "Speaking of which, any word from Jaise so far?"

"It's been dead silence, I'm afraid." Christopher shook his head, looking careworn.

"I've sent a letter to Fione, myself. I'm still waiting for her response." Arinel added.

Color drained from Coris's taut cheeks as he gritted his teeth, eyebrows lowered over blazing gray eyes.

"Don't lose heart yet. She might simply need to be discreet to avoid alerting Lord Crosset of our movements." Baron Hadrian comforted him. Coris glanced at his father, then nodded with a sigh. Christopher remained frowning, however.

"How could she beat the arresting party here if they're traveling the same route? Or evade them, for that matter?"

"The Jaisians know the Sands. She may be able to waylay them. Or travel on dragonback." Coris guessed. He stared out the window, thinking on his feet, "At any rate, we must prepare for the worst. If the arresting party arrives before Winterwen—"

Silence fell. Coris appeared to be gulping back words from the tip of his tongue. Zier had an idea what they were. Meya's safety would take priority in such circumstances, but his brother being the way he was, he was too ashamed to voice his selfish desires.

"Do you reckon your father will lead the arresting party himself, Arinel?" He turned to Lady Crosset, who jolted, "After all, he wouldn't risk the journey to Hadrian for your wedding, but he came all the way to Jaise on sheer force of spite. No offense." He added hastily as Arinel blushed.

"Not to mention neglecting his duties for no sound reason. Again. Who's watching over Crosset?" Christopher shook his head disapprovingly. Coris tilted his head towards him in appreciation,