Empire of Night Ch13

Serra followed a step behind Lisril, her stomach churning. It had been a long time since she’d had the dubious pleasure of seeing Iiandere. Not since she’d resigned her post in the military so, she had insisted to herself, she could study with the surgeons.
They hadn’t started on excellent terms and had parted on terrible ones. The fact was, Iiandere hated her, and the sentiment was neither entirely one-sided nor entirely unfounded.
But, as an inquisitor, the woman was beyond reproach, and Serra was only a witness, not even really married to Alex. So Iiandere’s fidelity wasn’t at issue.
Serra sighed.
“Stop your whining,” Lisril said, “you’ve already got Alex twisting himself up in knots.”
“Sorry,” she said, “Captain.”
“I’m not your Captain anymore,” Lisril said, “but since you’re feeling contrite, I expect the next time you see him, you’ll wear a smile, tell him all is well, and mean it.”
“Of course,” wasn’t that always the way of it? Lisril, the Captain, the very image of chivalry, womanly, nearly to a fault, and she and Iiandere, her lieutenants, nipping at her heels. Competing for her attention.
“Good,” Lisril said, “he’s not like other men. Reticent to display his own pain and sorrow but quite sensitive to ours. You must be especially attentive and doubly careful in your stoicism.”
Serra bowed her head, “yes,” she said, “I’ll do so.”
Lisril stopped in front of the inquisitor’s office and turned to her. Her hand came up, cupped Serra’s cheek as she hadn’t since leaving for Earth and finding a man.
Her thumb traced small circles over her cheekbone, and Lisril drew her eyes up. “It’s okay,” Lisril said, “I’m with you, be strong.”
Serra nodded, and Lisril smiled, licked her cheek, and turned to knock on the door.
They waited a moment, and a young woman, perhaps forty, and of the dark purple complexion of the deep interior. She wore the Inquisition's insignia but was too young to be a full inquisitor.
“You must be the wives,” she said, stepping aside, “please, come in.”
Lisril led her in, and there was iiandere sitting behind a large table.
“Lady Inquisitor,” Lisril said.
“Lisril,” Iiandere’s voice was soft and even, respectful, but almost bored, in that regard, at least, she hadn’t changed. She turned to Serra, “good day.”
“Good day, Lady Inquisitor,” perhaps, this would be bearable if she stuck to business.
“I’ll take your statements,” the inquisitor said, “initiate.”
The young woman snapped to attention. “Yes, Lady Inquisitor?”
“Pay attention, take down their statements.”
      The young woman nodded, fetching out a pen and inkpot.
“You’re apprentice?” Lisril asked.
“Something like that, ma’am,” Iiandere said, “we’ll mark you down as wife of the victim, is that correct?”
Lisril nodded. “That will be fine.”
“Go ahead then.”
“We, my husband, Serra, Rosslln, a prospective suitor, and myself, had been invited to join the Empress for dinner. Upon exiting her quarters, an assailant I had never seen before fired a crossbow at him.”
      “How do you know,” Iiandere said, “that he was the target?”
“I interposed myself in his place and was struck in his stead.”
“Then you’re lucky to be alive,” Iiandere said.
“I’m lucky,” Lisril said, “to have been wearing Dyrantoro armor. When the assassin saw her attack had been ineffective, she proceeded to charge us with a knife. I dispatched her-”
“Dispatched by what method?”
Lisril reached into her coat and drew out a stubby metal tube, which she extended to perhaps three or four times its size, “this baton,” she said, “and claw.”
Iiandere nodded. “Continue.”
“I dispatched the assassin and returned to my husband’s side; he was understandably upset and consoled himself with me. Then, an Honor guard escorted us, me, my husband, and Rosslln, having no quarters of her own, to our bedroom.”
Iiandere thought a moment. “Why was I not informed of this third woman?”
“Her status is undecided,” Lisril said, “she has no standing.”
Iiandere humphed. “I’ll speak with her anyway, in a little while; she may have seen something you missed.”
“That’s a good idea,” Lisril said, “she mentioned friends who might make ready informants.”
“Informants?” the inquisitor asked.
“Vagrants, I presume,” Lisril said.
Iiandere’s brow winged up. “An odd choice for consideration.”
“My husband is an odd man,” Lisril said, “you should meet him when you have a moment.”
“I shall have to.” Iiandere turned to the acolyte. “Strike those last.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” the young woman said.
Iiandere turned to Serra then. “Your relation to the victim?”
“Fiancée,” she said.
Iiandere sniffed. “Does a man’s family pay half a dowry for half a wife?”
Serra bristled. “Whatever the arrangements between my fiancée and myself, it’s none of the inquisition’s business.”
Iiandere, apparently unfazed by her outburst, turned to her subordinate. “You may strike the witness’ previous statement.”
Then, turning back to Serra. “Where were you when the lord was attacked?”
Serra’s fists bunched in the fabric of her gown. “A step behind him, in the doorway to her Magnificence’s quarters.”
The inquisitor nodded. “What were you doing during the altercation?”
“I engaged myself,” she said, “in ensuring Alex was away from danger and unharmed.”
“There were other women present,” Iiandere said, “you didn’t find it prudent to assist his wife?”
“There was neither time nor need,” Serra said, “Lisril dispatched the assailant with all due speed and was joined by four members of her Magnificence’s honor guard. The situation being what it was, my fiancée needed me by his side.”
“Then I suppose,” Iiandere said, “it was good you happened to be available. What happened after you secured the Lord?”
Serra’s jaw tightened, the second barb, less visible and more personal than the first, stung all the more. “Lisril returned to us in short order, and I observed the bolt employed by her attacker embedded in her clothing.”
“Yes.” Iiandere turned to her assistant. “Produce the article.”
The young woman left her seat, returning a moment later and setting the very bolt, its broad, multi-sided, head blunted somewhat by impact, on the table.
“This bolt?”
Serra nodded. “I believe so. Disturbed at the sight, I proceeded in my capacity as a surgeon to examine Lisril and made the determination that she should be placed on bed rest.”
Iiandere glanced at Lisril. “Then I shall have to apologize for interrupting her convalescence.”
“Don’t worry yourself overmuch,” Lisril said, “as it happens, we were granted a dispensation to seek Dyrantoro medical assistance. I have it on authority that having received treatment, I shall be hale in a matter of days.”
“An Impressive feat,” Iiandere said, “and I’m sure your husband is grateful to have the news that he shall once again be adequately defended in so short a time.”
“Not so,” Lisril said, “Serra stands in his defense while I am incapable.”
“Then I shall pray,” Iiandere said, “that he finds her steadfast."
"He will," Lisril said, in a clipped tone which both of them recognized to mean whatever conversation had been in progress was now ended.
“As you say, Captain,” Iiandere said.
“I’m not your Captain anymore,” Lisril said.
“Regardless,” Iiandere said, “I shall pay you the respect and ensure the blackguards who accosted your husband are brought to justice.”
She turned back to Serra. “Did you recognize the attacker?”
“I didn’t get a look,” Serra said.
“Then I shall arrange a look for you,” Iiandere said, “keep yourself available.”
Serra nodded. “I shall endeavor to,” she said, “however, my husband has an engagement.”
“This hardly seems the opportune moment,” Iiandere said.
“Her Magnificence tends to agree,” Serra said, “but our Captain, it seems, is too much woman even for the monarchy.”
Iiandere chuckled. “I can imagine it.”
Serra nodded. “So her Magnificence shall be escorting us.”
The only sign of Iiandere’s shock was a slight widening of her eyes. “Quite interesting,” she said, “I shall have to make a point to join you if Lisril consents.”
“Of course,” Lisril said, “you are welcome. I’m sure my husband will be interested in meeting you.”
“I hope so.” She turned back to Serra. “Have you any other details you would like to add?”
“Not at this moment,” Serra said, and Iiandere stood, nodding.
“very well,” she said, “you may go; I shall be in contact soon.”
She turned to lisril, nodding to the older woman. “Please inform me before your party leaves I will be happy to make time to join you.”
Lisril nodded, and the inquisitor led them to the door. “It will be an honor to host you,” she said, “it will be soon, perhaps in the next day or so.”
“You don’t waste time,” Iiandere said, “I shall be ready at the hour of your choosing.”
They left the inquisitor behind, and Serra cleared her throat. “Thank you,” she said.
“You are also my Fiancée,” Lisril said, finality in her tone, the point of principal being all that mattered.
“Still,” Serra said, “thank you.”
Lisril shook her head. “She blames the wrong person.”
“She blames,” Serra said, “the only woman available.”
“Hog shit,” Lisril said, “justice is justice, and justice can’t be misplaced.”
Sera was silent then, thinking. “It seems the answers come easily to you.”
“It’s not as though,” Lisril said, “I’ve achieved some particularly great wisdom. Instead, I’ve simply retained what women have lost.”
“What do you mean?”
Lisril stopped, examining one of the fine tapestries adorning the walls. “We have been granted a guide to the right ordering of the world. I have found a man who is righteous and worthy, so I love him unreservedly; I have found a Goddess who guides me to the correct path, and so I worship without hesitation.”
“Where you, and all too many others, especially the great and the powerful, go awry, is you look at the solutions offered to us and see that they are simple. You look at the world and assume there must be more.” She turned back to Serra. “But there is no more; our needs are met simply; because our needs are not complicated.”
Serra nodded, abashed, Lisril made it sound so easy, and she wondered if it weren’t indicative of some flaw in herself that she didn’t see it.
Lisril sighed. “I’ve upset you more than Iiandere, quite the accomplishment, I should say.”
“Well.” Serra tilted her head. “She was nearly sufferable, so maybe it was just a poor showing on her part. Maybe she’s tired; it’s an odd time of day.”
Lisril laughed. “If you can joke like that, she must really have gone easy on you. Maybe I should have let her lash you a bit longer, toughen you back up a bit. I daresay palace life has removed your edge.”
“I’ll worry about my edge,” Serra said, “I’ve kept myself in shape, and my saber too. You don’t need to worry.”
“Then I won’t,” Lisril said, “I hope you can forgive me, by the way.”
Serra shrugged. “She could have inserted herself in our trip regardless of what you said. She’s a good contact to have.”
“You’re right,” Lisril said, “I’m still sorry. Let’s go do something more pleasant.”
“Yes,” Serra agreed, “I’d like to see him.”
They returned to the sitting room, past the stony-faced guard. Rosslln and Eli sat at the table, chatting and sharing a drink, Alex reclining in a chair near the fire.
The women joined them at the door. “I see you haven’t been put to the stake,” Elliza said.
“Just barely.” Serra grinned at her Empress. “It was touch and go for a moment.”
“Sounds exciting,” Rosslln said, “come and have a drink, tell us about it.”
“No,” Serra said, “I’m not thirsty, and I need to take some notes; I’ve been letting myself fall behind in my work.”
“Well,” Lisril said, “I’ll have a drink, though I’m afraid my story won’t be quite as interesting.”
Her fellows left, and she looked to Alex, who hadn’t moved from his chair. She wanted to join him, but perhaps he stayed apart because he was angry with her? Lisril had said something to that effect.
Finally, she decided she would let him brood and actually try to catch up with some of her work. Going to her pack, she gathered a little bundle of books and went to the couch set before the hearth. 
She opened the first and felt the couch shift. Looking up, she saw him there, sitting next to her. “Oh,” she said, “Alex, I-”
He scooted closer, laid a hand on her thigh, “do you want to talk about it?”
Her stomach twisted; she supposed this was the moment she was meant to give him her assurances, soothe his worry. Instead, she said, “not really.”
He closed his eyes, rested his head on her shoulder, “okay.”
She swallowed, tears suddenly coming to her eyes. She blinked them away and licked the crown of his head, “I,” she said, voice rough, “I love you.”
He smiled and wriggled closer to her; she wrapped her arm around him, pulling him tight. Not cold, but needing his warmth.

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