Duty-Bound [ Lore of Penrua: Book II ]

57

When Mhera awoke, the first thing she was aware of was a terrible fear. She drew in her breath in a gasp, her heart racing, and struggled against the bonds that held her. There was someone there near her, moving close at hand, and she had to get away.

"Mhera, be calm. Be still."

Turning her head, Mhera saw Aun's gentle face. She looked down at herself and saw that the ties binding her were no more than blankets tucked securely around her prone body. She managed to free a hand and smoothed her fingers over the blanket, aware now of the ache in her side. Her mouth felt as if it had been filled with sand, and her head ached.

"You'll feel a little unwell from the potion I gave you," said Aun. "I wanted you to sleep for a while to save you from the worst of the pain. You're going to be okay."

"Where's Matei?" Mhera asked. Panic lanced through her. If she was alive—but if someone had come for her, Matei was certainly in danger. The assassin who would have slit Mhera's throat had even referred to Matei, the Arcborn bastard...

Looking around, she saw that she was in her own room, the empress's domain. On the table near her bed stood a variety of potions, ingredients, and tools. A low fire burned in the hearth, filling the room with warmth. Mhera struggled to extricate herself from the blankets.

"Don't, please. Just lie still. Matei is fine. He stayed at your side all night and all day yesterday, so I sent him to his bed; I am afraid he went under duress."

"Who was it? Who did this?" Mhera closed her eyes, feeling again the cruel pull of the stranger's hand in her hair, the wicked kiss of the knife against her throat. She reached up with trembling fingers and touched the thin line of a scab. Looking down at her fingertips, Mhera confirmed that the wound did not still bleed, but she caught sight of her long blonde braid, which was ruddy in the light, and made a wordless sound of panicked disgust, cringing away from it.

"I'm sorry," said Aun. She bent over Mhera's bed, laying gentle hands on her shoulders. "There was no way to properly wash your hair. I'll help you take a real bath soon."

"Whose blood?" Mhera felt slow and foolish, unable to do anything but ask questions.

"Your assailant's, I'm afraid," said Aun. "We'll wash it away as soon as we can, I promise you. Don't worry. Lie still and rest."

Staring down at her blood-soiled hair, Mhera remembered the warm flood that had coursed down over her neck when she had been attacked. Judging by what Aun had said about Matei's vigil, it must have been two nights past. "Who was he?"

"I think they have confirmed him as a priest of Zanara, if you can believe it." Aun sat down in a chair at Mhera's bedside. "He's dead. There were other intruders in the palace that night. The guard has been increased. There are two men outside your bedroom door, and two more outside the entry to your apartments."

A gentle knock came. Mhera's heart leapt into her throat, her every muscle tensing, and the wound in her side protested the motion with an angry throb of pain. At her side, Aun calmly rose and went to the door, smoothing her apron as she called, "Who is it?"

The answer was too soft for Mhera to hear, but when Aun reached for the doorknob, she hoped to see Matei's face on the other side. She was disappointed, but only for a moment, to realize it was Eovin instead. The lorekeeper stepped into the room, exchanging a quiet word with Aun. He raised his right hand as if to show her, and Mhera noticed that it was wrapped in bandages. Aun smiled at him and then nodded toward Mhera, and Eovin turned his attention her way.

"Thank the goddess," he said, coming toward her across the room. "How do you feel, Your Grace?"

"Tired," said Mhera. "And frightened. What happened to your hand?"

With a careless glance at the bandage, the lorekeeper shrugged. "Precious little, compared to your suffering," he said. Mhera gestured to the seat Aun had abandoned, and Eovin sat. "I was attacked the same night."

"Goddess above," Mhera whispered. "I am glad you are safe. But you fended him off?"

"Yes, but I must confess he escaped. I am no great fighter, and I think the disturbance in the palace after your attack frightened him. He fled."

"The disturbance...Then it was not the same man?"

"I'm afraid not. By our reckoning there were three. One came for you; he's dead. One came for me—who knows where he is now. And one came for—"

"Matei." Mhera reached out a hand, and Eovin, responding to her gesture, took it with his good one. Tightening her fingers around his, she said, "Aun said he is sleeping. Is he well guarded? Is he wounded?"

"Not wounded. From what we have been able to piece together, the three attackers hoped to find us separately. They came late into the night, perhaps aiming to find us abed. The one who we believe would have sought Matei was apprehended when a servant raised the alarm. He's in our custody now, and I think we will be able to get some answers out of him."

Knowing that Matei was safe was an immense relief, but the knowledge that they had been so at risk was unsettling. Mhera fell back upon her pillow and looked up at the ceiling. "They might have killed us all," she murmured. "They might have so neatly undone all we have sought to do by ending your line and tidying me away in the process."

"We survived, Mhera, and we will uncover the root of this assassination attempt."

"How did they get in? The palace is guarded."

"That remains to be seen. In your convalescence and Matei's—ah—distraction, Prince Kaori has demanded a full account. I do not know the details, but I am aware that three guards have been imprisoned."

The thought that there may have been guards sympathetic to such vengeful enemies was not a comforting one. It might have been any of them; Mhera had been accompanied all around the city by such attendants. She laid a hand over her stomach and sighed. "I had thought the worst of all of this was past," she said.

"Still, don't despair, Mhera. It's over now, and it failed. If they are plotting another such attack, we will be far readier for them next time. It was foolish of us not to anticipate this before."

"I suppose you're right." Mhera closed her eyes.

"You're tired," said Master Eovin. "I shall go and let you rest."

"If you see Matei...if Matei wakes...would you please ask him to come?" Mhera asked.

"Mhera, I shan't have a chance to ask him; he'll be here the moment his eyes open," Eovin said, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "He's been sick with worry. You are the only thing on his mind."