6.5

On her way back to the Citadel, Zyrdicia took a side-trip to Mora Valley. She transported herself to the various locations she had visited previously with Vector, reconfirming details and examining the current state of affairs. The camp of southern troops was much larger than it had been when she last saw it. It looked as though a huge force must have just arrived. Some of them were still setting up tents.

She wandered along the camp's perimeter invisibly. The fresh faces of the guards on duty fascinated her. This time tomorrow they would already be in the underworld.

She returned to the fortress shortly before dawn. With the exception of a patrol in the main courtyard, all was still. She hated that. Activity would at least help keep her awake. The lack of sleep would become more difficult to manage as the sun rose. She hesitated to invoke more of the Tenaebran energy at the moment. She needed to give her body a pause in the flow, even if she couldn't sleep. Furthermore, she would need massive amounts of energy for the carnage she had in mind for the battle, and she was loathe to squander even a small amount of it now. The available supply might have to sustain her for a few more days.

She fidgeted in her room for a few minutes, searching for something to occupy her. The silence and isolation frustrated her. Inside her nether suite, she changed from leather into a long, comfortable silk sheath of a dress. She grabbed the swatch of magic fabric in which she had packed the mysterious painting with the golden unicorn and the one book on regional heraldry she had yet to hunt through. It would at least keep her mind off of the situation in Lyr.

She left her room in search of a better place to read for a while. A few servants stirred in the great hall, scrubbing some sort of gore from the wall where the heads had rested last night. At least it was activity.

She requested hot tea, and curled up in a great armchair off to the side of the room. She pulled the painting out of the magical space and set it on the floor next to her. She stared at it for a while, her mind wandering. A servant brought the requested tea, bringing her back from her mind's journey. She inhaled the steam and sipped it slowly before she started flipping through the heavy volume on her lap.

The sound of footsteps traversing the hall interrupted her lackluster concentration on the pages before her. She looked up to see the prince pass by, but said nothing. He noticed her out of the corner of his eye and turned. He looked surprised.

"Hi. Do you ever sleep?" he asked. He looked as though he hadn't been awake long. His hair was still damp and his face looked freshly shaven. He carried the seneschal's document sheaf in one hand.

"Good morning. One might ask the same of you, since you are up."

"I'm always up at this hour. Judging by your eyes, my guess is you didn't sleep again."

"Do I look that bad?"

"You look exhausted. Why aren't you sleeping right now?"

"I can't. Portia's still in Lyr. She took Anthony and Charles with her. I never sleep alone."

"Why?"

She sighed wearily. "My dream world is a direct channel to Hell. When I sleep alone, I get a lot of unpleasant visitors. They don't bother me if another soul is nearby. I have no idea why, but it is so. So I don't sleep alone." Now that there appeared to be a war in Hell, she was more certain then ever that she did not want to be pestered by dream demons. The thought of them getting to her right now nauseated her. She was far too vulnerable in her dream state.

"When was the last time you slept?"

"A few nights ago, after we talked the first time. I slept for three hours then. It doesn't matter. When I need it, I have access to more energy than sleep could ever provide. Sleep is unnecessary."

"That was three nights ago." He shook his head in disapproval, then approached to get a closer look at what she was doing. His eyes fell to the painting. "What are you up to?"

"Hunting. I caught a whiff of a quarry I thought I had lost long ago."

He reached over her and pulled the book from her lap to examine the spine, then handed it back to her. "What are you looking for?"

"The unicorn. I can find it nowhere in any of your library's histories of heraldry, yet there it is in the painting. I found it in your South Tower, with all the spiders."

"What is your interest in it?" His eyes narrowed slightly. He was clearly interested in her endeavor.

She pondered a moment, weighing whether to reveal the nature of the quest and could see no reason not to. "Do you remember once you asked me why I was slaughtering your enemy's peasants?"

"King Richard. Yes. You said the Greystone crest reminded you of something from your own world."

"The Philonian Order, the Knights who invaded Lyr and tried to rid it of black magic, they all wore that crest in combination with this elusive unicorn." She pointed to the painting. "Never one without the other."

He smiled. "And you think those knights might have come from Aparans?"

"They either came here or had a cell active here. I need to know which it was."

The prince looked amused. He pulled a second armchair near her and took a seat. "You should have asked earlier. I could have saved you a lot of time in my library. And I was right when I told you that we have enemies in common when we first met." He glanced at the painting. "Frankly I had no idea we had one of those in the family. How mortifying! It's good that it was hidden away in the tower."

"Tell me what you know," she prodded, frowning.

"You won't find the unicorn in the standard heraldry books because those books concentrate on family symbols. The unicorn belongs to no family, but to an organization. The Order of the Unicorn was some sort of quasi-secret society of moralistic, addle-brained knights devoted to creating a golden age of peace and goodness. During the last great peace time in our realm, they organized a series of secret crusades to export their doctrine. My grandfather heard stories about them as a boy. The destinations were closely guarded, and known only to the Order. Various southern families contributed warriors and the white Wizards took them off to battle evil." He smiled. "Apparently your world was a beneficiary. The last Crusade was supposed to have been a disaster. Not a single knight returned to Aparans, except their humiliated leader. Philonius Greystone was his name, as I recall." Dirk was enjoying this.

"You have to be making this up."

"Not at all. I'll have Cai dig up some records of the time. The disappearance of so many southern soldiers weakened their forces for a generation. My grandfather eventually used that to advantage when he went to war. The Northern documents about the Crusades will be admittedly sparse. We declined to participate in the last one. You'd find a lot more in King Richard's library, I suspect."

She stared off in the distance. "Philonius. That son of a bitch escaped home. Here. No wonder I could never find him."

"If it's any consolation, he supposedly returned quite mad. He was a disgrace to a disgraceful family. The last Crusade was a very black mark on their history."

"When did all this supposedly happen?"

"Oh, now you're being difficult. I haven't pondered any of this since I was in school. I think the first Crusade would have been at least two, maybe three centuries ago. The last one was in the time of my great grandfather, so around a hundred years ago."

"And the connection between the unicorn and the rose crest?"

"The unicorn was always juxtaposed to the crest of the royal family who supplied the knights. Obviously the Greystones sent the troops into your city." His face was very smug.

She was silent for a long time, stunned. Finally she whispered, "After all these years, the mystery is solved. We still have their heads and shields adorning the Old City wall. The city historians had given up on ever finding the Order's origin."

"It solves a mystery here too. No one knew what happened to them. How I wish Erick could see your wall with his relative's heads and shields!" His face was almost gleeful.

"The Wizards who sent the knights, are they still alive?"

"One of them. The Greystone family Wizard, Traquil. Vector claims he's completely senile."

She inhaled deeply. At least there might be some closure to the hunt after all. "This makes Zyr's errand so much less tedious."

"Oh, I'm positively delighted. Now, come with me."

He stood up and offered her his hand.

She looked confused. "Where?"

"My chambers."

"Why?" She was genuinely baffled.

"I have work to do and you are going sleep while I review documents. You'll be of little use to me tonight if you collapse from exhaustion."

"I'm fine."

"Your eyes betray you. Come!"

She took his hand reluctantly. "Why are you being so nice this morning?"

"I'm never nice. I'm merely guarding my strategic interests." As they walked he added, "Besides, exchanging unpleasantries with you in such state would be unfair. You're obviously at a disadvantage."

"And I'm not in the mood for it. Later maybe." As they passed a narrow window, she could see the sunrise outside. The sight of the sun reminded her of how sleepy she really was. "By the way, thank you for sharing the information about the Order."

"It was my pleasure." The smug look returned to his face for a moment. He glanced at her. "It was also the least I could do given that you found the assassin for me and revealed a plot to overthrow me. You did well last night, despite your murderous excesses. We're even now."

"Actually, I also saved your life, as I recall. You would have eaten the poison if I hadn't been there. Did you have any trouble getting rid of the spirits?"

"None," he lied. "While you are here I want you to show me how to access more of the monocle's power."

"We'll see," she answered wearily.

They reached his chambers. The large bed had just been made. He gestured to it. "Sleep now."

She needed no more prodding. She slipped off her shoes and stretched on top of the velvet bedspread, relieved to finally be able to rest. He sat at the table where they had dined and started spreading papers out upon it.

"Pigs and peasants?" she asked, watching him.

"Terror and taxes. Go to sleep!"

"Promise you'll wake me when you're ready to leave. Don't leave me sleeping here!"

"You have my word."

In her exhausted state, she drifted off into a deep, dreamless slumber almost immediately. She was momentarily free of worry about Zyr's inexplicable behavior and the need to reach Azriok.

Dirk glanced over at her and was again struck by how perversely innocent she looked while she slept. The beatific expression on her face hid all traces of the demonic malice within her. She slept on her side facing him, with both hands under her pretty cheek.

He realized the room was rather cold at this early hour and stood up to retrieve a blanket from the foot of the bed. He draped it over her. She was sleeping so deeply, he could not resist the urge to gently caress her cheek with the back of his hand. As he did so, one of her hands moved from under her head to wrap around his fingers. Her breathing didn't change. He was certain she was asleep. She then pulled his hand under her cheek and held it firmly between both of her hands. She slumbered on.

He almost laughed. The gesture was disarmingly sweet. Unfortunately, it left him in an uncomfortable predicament. He feared he would wake her if he pulled his hand from under her head. He certainly couldn't stay this way. He worked his fingers free slowly, as gently as he could. He eventually liberated his hand without disturbing her.

He returned to his documents, still amused. His amusement softened the blow of the tax report. The situation was, indeed, grim. The treasury was nearly empty, and current levies would not even come close to financing this summer's military campaign. It didn't matter. Tronin would be his before the issue came to a head.

He signed the document authorizing Cai to transfer funds to meet the next payroll for the troops. He then drafted a note to the seneschal regarding the need for histories of the last Crusade from the library. He sealed both with his sigil and set them aside while he methodically reviewed the rest of the pile of documents.

The process took several hours. At some point he summoned a servant to bring him his morning meal, and called for a messenger to deliver the papers back to Castle Blackpool. The servants made a point of not glancing at the woman sleeping on their lord's bed. A second messenger eventually took word to his commanders elsewhere in the fortress to prepare the troops for a "nocturnal exercise" this evening.

Despite the activity, Zyrdicia did not stir. He was finished with his paperwork, but he let her sleep. Were it not for the slight movement of her chest as she breathed, it would have been easy to imagine she was an angelic corpse. He ate his morning meal slowly, observing her. The discovery that the Greystone family was behind her mother's execution entertained him endlessly. The heroic, self-aggrandizing hypocrites had secretly caused terror and grief abroad. The thought was delicious.

He watched her sleep, and used the time to ponder how to deal with the rebellion. She awoke a short time later. Her eyes opened suddenly, immediately fully alert. She saw him staring at her. "You're already done with your papers?"

"You've been asleep almost four hours. I finished some time ago."

"Why didn't you wake me?" She sat up quickly. She looked at the blanket strangely but didn't comment.

"You needed the rest. There's breakfast here for you too. And tea. I was told you enjoyed it earlier."

"I feel so pampered."

"I try. After all, I need to keep you in a co-operative frame of mind for tonight."

She moved to the table, pouring herself some of the tea, and settled into the chair opposite him. She closed her eyes and sipped the beverage, remembering the night in Lyr as though it had been a dream.

"What's wrong?"

"Hmm?"

"You were frowning. Unpleasant dreams?"

"Not at all." She shook her head, willing the issue to the back of her mind. "Actually, I feel much better. Thank you for letting me sleep. Tell me what happened with your first feat of necromancy, talking to the spirits last night."

"They were useful, if aggravating."

"I probably should have warned you that if you piss them off-" She stopped, noting his disapproving expression. She smiled playfully. "Rather, if you annoy them, they can be vicious."

"You are learning. I'm pleased."

"I suppose I'm not interested in...annoying you right now." She nibbled on the fruit on the table. "By the way, I went by Mora Valley on the way back here last night."

"Back from where?"

"Lyr."

"And?"

"There are a hell of a lot...I mean, there are multitudes of troops there now. Your information was correct. I think they probably just arrived yesterday evening. I verified the gate locations to be sure that they haven't moved boulders in the way or dug any inconvenient trenches."

"Excellent. I'll hold you personally responsible for any mishaps with the gates."

Her eyes filled with malevolence. "I take killing very seriously. Orchestration of mass destruction is my unique expertise. This slaughter will be flawless."