Empire of Night (Age of Legends 2)

"And who was in charge of your keeping?"

Now she did hesitate. When the silence stretched too long, he glanced at her. "Rumor says it was Gavril Kitsune. Well, that is, the rumor that confirms you were a captive, which is harder to come by than the one that says you were his . . ." His gaze slid Tyrus's way and he cleared his throat. "That you were Gavril's ally. My sources are, fortunately, more widespread than that, and one within the Kitsune camp says Alvar put his son in charge of your care. Is that true?"

"Yes."

"And he did care for you. You were not abused?"

"I . . . was not."

He didn't seem to notice the catch in her voice. "As I should expect. Beyond the lack of abuse, though, did he care for you well?"

Moria swore she smelled the faint stink of sweat waft up. This was like treading across a field laced with traps. To admit she'd been mistreated would cause Tyrus further guilt. To say she'd been treated well was a lie that spoke kindly of someone who'd done nothing to deserve her kindness.

"Gavril ensured I had what I needed. Food, water, clean clothing. . . . He eventually allowed me to take walks, under guard. His father keeps him very busy, so days would pass without my seeing him, making it difficult to judge his level of involvement with my care."

The emperor nodded. He seemed not to pay undue attention to her words, as if he'd already drawn conclusions and asked only to be polite.

"Now, speaking of rumors, Moria, I hear that on the night of your escape, Alvar hosted a party."

"Yes . . ."

"And that party was to celebrate your betrothal to Gavril Kitsune."

"What?" Tyrus said, pulling his horse up short.

"No," Moria said. "I mean, yes, it was, but there was no--It was--It had nothing to do with me."

"I wasn't questioning that," Tyrus said, his voice softening. "I mean, is this some scheme of Gavril's? If he tried to force you into a betrothal--"

"No, he was as upset over it as I was. It was his father's scheme. And even he knew well enough to promise Gavril there would be no wedding. The ruse was intended to--"

"--spiritually validate his claim to the imperial throne." The emperor turned to Tyrus. "What Moria says is exactly what I heard. While we do not allow our Keepers and Seekers to marry, there is precedent from the Age of Fire. The clans were at war, and the goddess supposedly bestowed a Seeker on one of the chieftains as his wife. He began winning his battles, which solidified his claim to hold the goddess's favor. He became king--a ruthless one--and his successor passed the law against marrying Keepers and Seekers. Now, suddenly, people are whispering the name of that forgotten king and embellishing his deeds. Alvar was always a master at the art of spreading stories."

"So he says his son has won the love of a Keeper," Tyrus said. "Proving him a young warrior truly blessed by the goddess."

Emperor Tatsu nodded. "While that makes a good story, he has more prosaic reasons for the union. The tale of Moria's betrayal is prevalent, yet there are whispers of the truth--of her captivity."

"If she is betrothed to Gavril, it squashes those rumors."

"Yes. I'm sure there are more reasons, too. Where a normal man has a single purpose for any given action, Alvar has nine."

"But . . ." It was Dalain now, and they all turned to look at him. "While this is interesting, the Keeper is now free. Are you telling us we must be careful? That he'll come for her?"

"No." Emperor Tatsu turned to Moria. "I'm telling you, child, that you must go back."

Silence. Stunned silence.

Tyrus broke it, saying carefully, "You could not have said what I think you did, Father."

"I fear I did." The emperor swung off his horse. "Dalain? Could you mind the steeds for us? I need to walk with my son and the Keeper."

"No," Tyrus said. "I don't believe you do. If you are suggesting that Moria ought to return--"

"I'm saying she must return. To help us win this war."

Moria scrambled off her horse. "Go back? To Alvar Kitsune? As what? A spy?"

"Exactly. I mentioned that I do have a contact in the camp, but it's an imperfect one. A warrior who is simply an old man uncertain where his devotions lie and hoping war can be averted. He has no rank and cannot get me anything of use. I need a true spy in that camp. One who will, because of her new position, be free to slip about, assessing the situation, overhearing strategy, and reporting back to me. I need you, Moria. Back in Alvar's camp."