Chapter 3.11 – The Emissary’s Tale

Part of me had been looking forward to seeing Queen Treya after all this time, but another, perhaps more realistic part of me, was terrified. I had enjoyed Queen Treya’s trust…her love and respect. I didn’t want to lose that.

                                                                                      Excerpt from the Journal of the Emissary

 

Sixth Day of Striving 1142, afteroon

Treya paced her chambers furiously. Lorco had tried to ask her questions, but she ignored him. After all these years…it couldn’t be. She’d given Bess that neckless in the hopes she’d never see her again. It was an expensive bribe. To find it back here now, as a gift no less…why did Bess still have it? Why hadn’t she sold it?

And what did she mean she was an emissary for Xarinos? Had she been undead all those years ago? If so, why had she helped Treya, or…did she? Could she be responsible for her son’s death?

No, of course not. There were many stillbirths at that time. Most births in the palace ended that way, and they knew Larish’s experiments were responsible. She thought about the alchemist sometimes, even though she didn’t know him personally. Had he done it on purpose? Did he have some vendetta against royalty? Or was it some terrible accident that he regretted so deeply, he took his own life. That they would never know seemed cruel to those who had suffered due to his actions, whether they had been careless or malicious. Perhaps, in the end, it was better no one knew.

Bess was here. Treya could picture her face, screwed up in concentration, wiping the sweat from her brow, cooing at her to calm her. Could she have been undead even back then? She thought of Gallen and knew the answer. Of course she could have. And Treya hadn’t known. How many more were there? How many undead still resided in the palace? Would there are another attempt on her life? That hardly made sense. Why would you announce yourself if you were trying at assassinate someone? No, this felt different.
 
Treya thought back, strained her mind, sifted her memories, searching for a clue, any clue, as to whether or not Bess has been undead during their time together. Wasn’t it possible she had died in Xarinos after she had left? How had she ended up there? Did she know where Bess was from originally? She couldn’t remember.

So many questions, and no answers, though presumably those answers were on the way to the palace while she paced. She noticed Captain Lorco watching her.

“You had a question for me, Captain?”

“Yes, your highness. Well not a specific question. It’s just that I don’t understand what the hell is going on.”

Treya smiled. “You wouldn’t be alone in that. I don’t understand either. But to fill you in, since it’s no longer a secret, I was pregnant when Terrence rode off to the Undead War. Eric was about a year old, having been one of the lucky few who had survived the fallout from Larish’s experiments. So many deaths. So few children being born, and I was pregnant again.

“I didn’t tell Terrence, because he was riding off to war and had enough to be thinking about. He didn’t need to also spend any of his energy worrying about me. So I went to Lord Ormund and asked him to help me hide the pregnancy. I became a bit of a recluse. You wouldn’t know any of this because you were with Terrence. Ormund recommended a servant that could help me through the long, lonely nights. Her name was Bess.

“My baby was stillborn, and I gave his body to Bess to bury and also gave her a very expensive necklace in the hopes that she wouldn’t return, because I didn’t need that reminder of my failure.”

Lorco’s eyes widened in understanding. “The necklace…it’s the same one?”

“Yes.”

Lorco whistled. “So Bess is Xarinos’s Emissary?”

“It would seem so.”

“Begging your pardon, your highness, but doesn’t this seem a bit manipulative to you.”

Treya stopped pacing. “What do you think? Of course I see the attempt at manipulation, but all royalty does it. We want to encourage those around us to do what we want. Let’s pretend Xarinos really wanted to broker peace with Twyl. Who would they send to negotiate? Would an undead stranger have a better chance at procuring my cooperation than someone I already knew? Friends manipulate each other all the time.”

Lorco stopped to think about it, before nodding agreement. “Yes. I guess I don’t think of them as human.”

“And how long did you know Gallen for? How close were you? Did you go out for drinks? Did you share meals together? Do you think it was all an act, because I don’t.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You think Gallen was an undead spy, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course. He tried to kill you.”
 
“He did. Because the gods declared war on his people. Fifteen years since the Undead War, don’t you think he’s had opportunities before this. Who’s really the aggressor here?”

Lorco started to answer, but stopped short. Treya could almost see his thought process, a thought process she’d had three days to process. Obviously, being the only Captain in the city, Lorco had little time to think. Finally he spoke.

“What exactly are you saying, your highness?”

“We may have misjudged the undead completely. They call themselves reborn by the way.”

“Reborn?”

“Yes. They don’t see themselves as undead at all.”

“That’s unexpected.”

“It’s always been us and them, but I’ve recently learned that Death’s Doorstep had been attacking the Undead King for long before the Undead War, and he’d finally had enough.”
 
“Gallen told you that?”

“He did, but it makes sense. The Undead King had a treaty with Lorelei for over 100 years and that treaty was never broken. He’d been in Xarinos for 1100 years, never harming anyone. Why suddenly march and attack Death’s Doorstep?”

“I don’t know.”

“Nor does anyone else, and it’s been discussed for years. Death’s Doorstep presented it as an unprovoked attack but what if it wasn’t. All we really looked at was how vicious the attack was. What if the Undead King was just defending his people?”

Lorco looked uncomfortable. “Do you think that’s possible?”

Treya smiled, sadly. “Captain, I have no idea what is or isn’t possible anymore. And don’t even know if the gods do.”

“The gods don’t know?”

“Forget it. Oh, let’s find a page. I should have refreshments brought.”

“Do the Undead eat?”
 
“I’ve shared meals with Bess in the past, on more than one occasion. Haven’t you seen Gallen eat?”

“Of course I have. Sorry, I just keep forgetting he was undead the whole time. I find the fact deeply disturbing.”

“You are not alone, Captain, but I think we might need to re-evaluate a lot of what has happened to understand the reality we currently face.”

Lorco didn’t reply and after a few silent moments, Treya resumed her pacing. What was taking so long? She had so many questions. She tried to slow her thoughts down, with less than stellar results. Bess being here changed nothing. Her son was dead. She knew that. But Bess was an anchor to that one part of her life that no one else shared. She’d held the burden alone for so long. Even telling Terrence after the fact hadn’t eased the feeling of the weight she carried. Bess was the one person who had been there through all of it. Person? Were undead people? She thought about Gallen. Yes, she was the one person who had shared that experience with Treya, and Treya was desperate to connect with her. That she was undead…reborn, didn’t change the situation at all.
 
Treya paced for minutes, hours, days. Time had lost all meaning when there was a knock on her door. She jumped and ran for it, but Lorco was closer and opened it. And she was there, in the doorway, Bess. She hadn’t aged a day in fifteen years. Of course she hadn’t aged. Now that she thought about it, Gallen hadn’t either.

“You’re majesty,” said Bess, starting to kneel.
 
Treya surprised Lorco, by reaching past him and catching Bess before she made it all the way to the floor.
 
“We’ll have none of that. Not between us. Come on in. Do you want something to eat or drink?”

“My people require neither food nor water, your majesty.”

“Call me Treya when we’re not in public.”

Bess looked surprised, but smiled. “Of course, Treya. You don’t know how many times I’ve wanted to come here and talk to you. I have so much to tell you. Things I should have told you long ago, but the time never seemed right.”
 
“What things?”

“Perhaps I should start at the beginning. Do you have any questions for me?”

“When you stayed in my rooms, helping during my pregnancy, had you already been reborn?”

“Yes. I died well over a hundred years ago.”

Treya fell silent. Little Bess was over a hundred years old. What would that be like? What she must have seen in her lifetime. Deathtime?

“No more lies, Treya. I’ll tell you anything you want to know. But it might be better if you let me tell you the story first.”

Treya nodded. “Let’s sit then.”

Treya sat on the sofa and motioned Bess to one of the chairs. The girl sat and stared at her, her dark eyes as kind as Treya remembered.

“I didn’t come to the palace to spy on you, if you were wondering. I came to investigate the rash of stillbirths that plagued Rish. I’m a healer, have always been a healer.”
 
“You worshipped Sylinar when you were alive?”

“Se Karn, but most people in Death’s Doorstep did.”

“I see. Can I ask how you died?”

Bess smiled sadly. “I was accidentally killed when I was young, a stupid accident while playing around with friends. We’d had a bit to drink, I hit my head, and we were close enough to Xarinos what when I died and was buried I came back. But I came back a bit stronger than a lot of undead, because The Undead King loves healers.”

“Why does the Undead King love healers?”

“Because he hates seeing things hurt.”

Treya didn’t answer. Instead, she spent some time digesting this instead of contradicting it outright. He’d practically razed and entire city/state to the ground. Had they deserved it? She didn’t ask. “Sorry, please continue.”

“Yes, well, I wanted to get into the palace, the biggest concentration of rich folk who were losing children. I wanted to understand the illness, see if I could help, but I needed an in. I found that with Lord Ormund.”

“How did that happen, did you…”

“Seduce him? It wasn’t necessary, though I would have if it came to it. All I really had to do was show interest in him. He was starved for attention and affection. I’d listen to what he had to say, wide-eyed like a young girl impressed by his great knowledge. To be fair, it wasn’t all an act. He comes off as a bit of a fool, I know, but he is extremely knowledgeable, far more than most would guess. I had initially thought he cultivated his persona as a form of deception but it’s not the case. He simply is insecure and immature in a lot of ways. Which doesn’t stop him from being brilliant.

“Anyway, he invited me into the palace as a servant, and I jumped at the chance. When he assigned me to you, well, I wanted to help. Really. I tried so hard, but we just had no idea, at the time, of what was causing the issue.”

“I know you tried. I saw it, Bess. Every day. I don’t care if you’re reborn or undead or human. You were there and trying to help.”

Bess’s eyes filled with gratitude. “I’ve always loved you, Treya. This is why. Most humans don’t see what you see.”

“So you got into the palace and got assigned to me. What happened after you left?”

Bess looked uncomfortable but finally spoke. “Back then, the Undead King had ordered all kinds of experiments done. The closer you are to the heart of Xarinos as we call it, the better the chances of full rebirth are. It’s something in the soil, you see. So we thought maybe if we take the soil elsewhere, there might be somewhere else where we can replicate the effect. One of the agents in the city had soil, and I brought your son there to see if I could save him.
 
Treya stiffened. “Save him? You mean bury him and see if he comes back?”

“That was the original plan, but it didn’t quite work, because your son wasn’t completely dead.”

Treya leapt to her feet. “What do you mean he wasn’t completely dead?”

“Your son had the smallest spark of life left in him. I wanted to save him…for you. But the damage was too great. The earth healed his body but not his mind. He survived, Treya. He’s still alive, but he’s not…well.”

Treya sat back down, staring ahead, but not seeing anything. Her son was alive. Somewhere. “What do you mean by not well?”

“There was brain damage. He wasn’t breathing for a long time. The soil this far from Xarinos wasn’t enough to heal him.”

Treya could barely breathe. She couldn’t think at all. Her baby boy was alive. Somewhere. Through the storm of thoughts, she managed to whisper a single question. “Is he suffering?”

“I don’t think so. But he has never been able to speak. He’s been well cared for.”

Her son was being well cared for…by someone else. “By who?”

“Her name is Suzanna, a healer of sorts. He’s on another world, Treya, I took him there to see if I could get him help. They have a different type of…magic there.”

“A different type of magic…”

“Yes, it’s called technology and it’s not really magic at all, but it’s the only way I can describe it.”

“You took my boy to another world.”
 
“To help him.”
 
“How do you get to this other world?”
 
“There’s a portal. I took him through it. Our world couldn’t help him, I was hoping Earth could.”
 
“Earth.”
 
“Yes.”

“Is that where he is now?”

Bess shook her head. “He’s here. In Thysandrika. He’s in the Plains of Xarinos. But Treya, that’s not why I’m here.”

Treya started to speak but stopped herself. Finally, “Then why are you here?”

“To invite you to return to Xarinos with me and talk with the Undead Queen. She wants peace between our peoples.”

Peace. Treya blinked. Was it possible? “What of the Undead King. Does he want peace?”

“No. Does Terrence?”

Treya thought about it. “No, not really. He has such much anger in him from the war.”

“But if you signed a treaty, would he abide by it?”
 
“Yes. Of course. He wouldn’t like it, maybe, but he’d do it.”
 
“The Undead King is the same. If we can organize a treaty before the fighting begins, there’s a chance.”

Treya leaned back…forced herself to breathe. The idea that her son was alive kept trying to push its way back into her thoughts, but she held it at bay long enough to consider what Bess had just said.

“We can end the war before it begins,” said Treya finally.

“If we’re fast enough.”

“Did you bring up my son being alive to manipulate me to come to the table?”

Bess’s eyes widened in horror. “Gods no, Treya. Never. I’ve been wanting to tell you for so long, but how do you even bring that up? You thought he was dead already. You’d already suffered that loss. What would you have done in my place?”

Treya tried to think it through, but it was too much. Her head was pounding. She was sitting in her private quarters with an emissary from the Undead Queen, and she had just found out her deceased son was not as dead as she’s originally believed, but he was not healed either. It was hard to reconcile the two halves of Bess’s message.

“Where is this portal?” asked Treya.

“In Xarinos. The Undead King controls it.”
 
“So he knew about my son.”

“Yes, Treya, the Undead King knew. And he paid a great deal of money in that other world to see that your son got the best treatment available.”

Treya looked surprised. “Why?”

“Because your son never did anything to hurt him. He was innocent. And the Undead King is not the monster you think he is.”

Treya blinked. Not the monster she thought he was. Part of her wanted to deny it. He had done terrible things, but then, she had seen Terrence’s anger after the horrors of the Undead War. Had the Undead King also experienced such horrors? Gallen had told her that Death’s Doorstep had sent hunting parties into Xarinos, killing the reborn at will. What would Terrence have done if it had been him? Would he have struck the way they Undead King had? No, she did not believe he would. But he had been ready to take drastic action against Ormund on no real evidence. Her mind spun.
 
“So what’s he like, the Undead King?”

“You’d be better off talking to the Undead Queen about that. When we get there.”

“You assume I’m going to say yes.”

Bess looked her straight in the eye. “Queen Treya. Are you really going to sit there and tell me that you would rather wage a war that will claim countless lives, create untold numbers of widows and cripples, rather than at least hear what the Undead Queen has to say?”

“You’re asking me to walk straight into the heart of the enemy and sacrifice myself, three days after an assassin from Xarinos tried to kill me.”

“That was not the doing on the Undead Queen. She does not control the Undead King’s actions. Yet that wouldn’t have happened had we signed a treaty.”

Treya compressed her lips. When she spoke, she sounded truly tired. “Try to see this from my point of view. Our enemy has invited me into their home territory to negotiate a treaty, while preparing for war, after trying to assassinate me, using news of my surviving son to manipulate my emotions.”

“Treya, do I feel like the enemy to you?”

“No, but neither did Gallen, and he came very close to taking my life.”

“What happened to him?”

“He’s in the dungeons at the moment, awaiting a decision on what to do with him.”

“You should execute him.”
 
“I know.”

Silence again. Neither said a word. Captain Lorco, on the door, had listened to the entire exchange alternately bemused, baffled and astonished. Finally, he could hold his tongue no more.

“Your highness, you can’t mean to go to the Plains of Xarinos. Surely this is a trick.”

Treya smiled. “I was always going to the Plains of Xarinos, Captain. Queen Raven told me so before she passed on, and her sources were impeccable. And I’ll be bringing Lord Ormund, which means Queen Rhea and Jerish will accompany us. And perhaps one other.”

“And who would that be?”

“I think it’s time I had a long chat with Gallen Burke.”

Captain Lorco stared at her, trying to figure out whether or not she was joking.

*

Gallen Burke stood in the center of a cell that seemed far tamer than the word dungeon would have suggested. Dungeons on most places were dark, dank and disgusting. Not so in Twyl. He’d lived in places that weren’t as nice as this.

There was a chair, but he didn’t bother sitting. There was a sleeping mat, but he hadn’t used it. There was a pit to relive yourself in, but he didn’t need that either. And because he was reborn, they didn’t bring him food either, which meant he was alone. For three days he stood in the center of the room, motionless, silent. He wondered what event could have been so significant that it held up his execution, for that surely was the only possible outcome for him. He had failed the Undead King, and he would die for it, and yet, he wasn’t sad. Queen Treya, his queen, had survived, and somehow, that seemed right and fair to him. He hadn’t wanted to kill her in the first place.

He heard her approach while she was still far away and recognized her footfall immediately. Queen Treya was coming for him at last. Well, that was okay. He’d made his peace with it. He wondered which gown she would be wearing when she ordered his death. He hoped it was the red one. It accentuated her strengths the way the other gowns did not.

When she finally arrived, it seemed to take longer than it should have, she opened the cell door and entered. She was alone. No guard with her. Because now she was more powerful than he, another thing he didn’t understand. She wore the maroon gown. Formal. She wouldn’t be wearing it if something special wasn’t going on. Nothing had been scheduled. He wondered what he had missed.
 
He knelt. “My queen.”

“You have lost the right to call me that.”

“I know. But it doesn’t make it less true. I will accept my punishment. I welcome my death. But I will do it as your subject, if only in my mind.”

“Is that really how you feel?”

“Yes, my queen.”

She didn’t correct him this time.
 
“You know I can’t trust you.”
 
“I understand.”

Treya sighed and sat on the chair, she looked so tired. He felt for her.

“There is another option. You need to consider it carefully because there is no going back from it.”

“Your highness?”

“I obviously can’t release you, and I don’t want to keep you in here forever. But there is one way I can trust you again.”

Gallen felt a surge of hope, but tried not to let it show on his face. Was she going to assign him some task? Some test. Whatever it was, he would do it. Not because he wanted to survive, but because he didn’t want the queen to think badly of him.

“I will be leaving tomorrow, for the Plains of Xarinos. You may accompany me, under one condition.”

“Anything.” He spoke without an ounce of hesitation. He had made the wrong choice before, he would not do so again.

“Do not be so fast to promise, before you have heard my offer.”

Gallen inclined his head, showing he had heard and understood.

“The only way I can trust you, is to be inside your mind.”

“You’re highness?”

“I want to tether you.”

“Tether me? Like a god? You can do that?”

“I can, and I have. If I tether you, I will be safe from you. I will know your thoughts, your intentions, your will, often before you do.”

“Do it.”

“Think about this, this is a serious commitment.”

“My queen, my feelings for you and Terrence already verged on worship. That I have erred so badly I can only attribute to weakness. This is my flaw. If that flaw can be corrected, I would be eternally grateful.”

“I am not a goddess.”

Her voice left no room for debate.

Gallen smiled sadly. “Always the last to know. I’ll believe you when you stop glowing.”

Treya blushed and for a moment, he could almost pretend it was like old times.

“Do it, my queen. Bind me to your service, and I will spend the rest of my life making sure you don’t regret this decision.”

Treya nodded. “Very well. Just relax, it won’t take long.”

Treya cast soul salve and, watched as Gallen’s soul formed. She examined it closely. This was a human soul, the same as any soul. Obviously it was unique, but it fell easily within the boundaries of what a human soul looked like. These weren’t monsters. They were people. Reborn, not undead. How had they gotten it so wrong for so long?

She searched the soul, but there was no existing tether. Yet she could see where the Undead King had marked him.

“I’m sorry, before I begin, I should have mentioned. If I am successful in tethering you, you will no longer be connected to the Undead King.”
 
“Would I be human again?”

Treya started to answer, but held herself back from answering right away. She considered the question. What made a reborn different from a human? Finally she answered.
 
“No I think you’ll remain reborn. But your connection to the Undead King will most likely no longer function.”
 
“Do it.”

Treya didn’t acknowledge his comment, but instead focused on the soul. It wasn’t like her previous experiences. Raven had had an anchor in her to which Iorana had attached her tether. Ormund as well. But Gallen didn’t have such an anchor. When he’d died, his tether to Sheba had been severed. That implied the cord had been cut, but even the piece of Sheba that has been inserted into his soul was gone. There was nothing left of the goddess in him which made her job considerably harder. In the past she has used existing architecture. This time, she had to place her own. And she had no idea what that entailed.
 
The ability is within you.

The voice was unmistakably Iorana’s. She had talked to Sheba in her head before, but this felt like an intrusion. Of course, it wasn’t. She was tethered to Iorana now as well.

I don’t know what to do.

I don’t believe you. Try.

Why were gods like this? Why couldn’t they answer a simple question? Treya grit her teeth and tried to remember what the anchor had looked like. Then she reached out with her hand, extended her index finger and drew an imaginary line from her finger to the edge of Gallen’s soul. He remained motionless.

No, not imaginary, the line was there, running between them. She fed it, that’s the only way she could describe it. She poured a bit of her essence into the formerly imaginary line and watched as it traveled toward him, taking up residence in his soul…just as Iorana’s had in Queen Raven. The miracle didn’t end there. She watched the mark form. Her mark. A piece of her own soul taking shape in another. A representation of her true self, projected outward. When it was completed, she stared at it. Like the rest of the soul, its interior shifted. The colors flowed, but the shape remained a constant, forming a star-shaped pattern. Her mark, imprinted on the soul of another. She had done it. All she had to do now was attach the tether to the anchor and…

It only took a moment and it was done. And she felt it. The respect. The love bordering on adoration. He wasn’t in love with her, he worshipped her. Well, that can’t be healthy.

Iorana laughed in her mind. Foolish child. You are already worshipped by many. That will only increase. You are more than you were. Others feel it. They know. How long, do you think, it will take you to figure it out?

Figure what out?

Iorana’s laughter filled her mind, but it wasn’t cruel. It was the laugh a mother gives her child when he child has said something ridiculous.

What are you trying to tell me?

We didn’t tether you child. In your panic, just before you would have died, you tethered us.

Of course, I didn’t. That’s not possible.

Silly me. I must be mistaken. We all thought it wasn’t possible. After all, only a god can tether another being with a permanent tether.

Exactly. Treya was glad that Iorana understood. Then, suddenly, her eyes grew wide. Wait, are you saying what I think you’re saying?

You have tethered your first worshipper, Goddess of Resilience. It will not be your last.

I thought we agreed not to tell her, said Sarith.

Treya just tethered her first mortal. Did you want to wait until they named a day after her?

Mitra entered the conversation. We will not name a day after her. Do you now how long it took me, to work that calendar out? I still haven’t forgiven mother for making me give a day every other month to the lesser gods. She can share the day with them.
 
What is wrong with all of you? asked Treya, getting desperate now. I am no god.

Sheba chuckled. If you say so. I’m sure many humans tether mortals who worship them. Happens all the time.

Treya blushed. I can’t be a god, I have a body.

One day, said Iorana, you will no longer need it.

Treya thought about that for a long time but didn’t speak again. She had a lot to think about.