Beneath the Veil Read online

  "I plead your mercy, my prince."

  "No, Aeris. My mercy is not sufficient. We are playing a dangerous game here in Alyria. Show this reaction in front of Rosten, and you might find yourself in his interrogation room."

  I nodded. "I understand. But –"

  "No." He gave my hands a squeeze so fierce, I winced. "You, my lovely fetchencarry, will stand by my side while I witness this thing. You will keep yourself without expression. Without emotion. And you will carry the sight of it in your mind forever."

  "And what good will it serve?"

  He didn't appear to take umbrage at my insolence. "It will serve the most good. It will make you unable to forget."

  We walked the distance, on the street, without fanfare. We went alone. People lined the streets to watch us pass, but there was no cheering and throwing of flowers. By the time we got to the House of the Book, the crowd lining the streets had joined behind us and followed.

  The building itself had been washed clean of its previous decorations. Not even a smudge remained. The stone platform in front of the building held a tall pole with piles of cut brush at the base. A black-cloaked form had been lashed to the base. The woman.

  I followed Daelyn up the carved stone steps to the top of the platform, where Rosten waited surrounded by the other members of the Council of the Book. Rosten's cheeks were painted in hectic spots of red, and his eyes shone with barely suppressed glee. He'd dressed for the occasion in garments a bit less somber than his norm. He greeted Daelyn with a low, sweeping bow and gave me a sardonic smile.

  "My prince," Rosten said.

  "Lord Rosten." Daelyn sounded and looked bored. He gave a little wave of his hand. "Let's get this over with, shall we?"

  "You came without the rest of your retinue today?" Rosten's beady eyes scanned the crowd, as though to seek them.

  Daelyn yawned. "I believe Lord Akean went on a hunt outside the city walls with Lords Vermonte and Gilder. Lord Freet, as I'm sure you know, has gone to his estate in the country to spend the winter. As for the rest, I've no doubt they're otherwise occupied."

  "I put out a decree that the whole of the city was to witness this burning." Rosten sounded more petulant than I'm sure he liked.

  Daelyn gave him a raised eyebrow. "And it does seem as most of the common folk are here at your demand. Surely, my dear Lord Rosten, you don't mean to tell me you meant to command my men as well?"

  Rosten had meant to do exactly that, I was certain, but he couldn't admit it. "Of course not, my prince."

  "Good." Daelyn's smile was cold. "Because for a moment I feared you might be overstepping yourself."

  Rosten gave another low bow. "Never, my prince."

  "Let's move on with this, please. 'Tis chillsome."

  "You'll feel warm enough when the blaze begins, I'll wager." gestured over his shoulder. "Lord Adamantane, please bring forth the charges against this creature."

  The fat bastard Adamantane waddled forth with a scroll rolled between two ornate handles of carved ebony and gold. "My pleasure."

  Rosten made another gesture. "Lord Simelbon, the evidence, if you please."

  Simelbon lifted his bundle. No scroll for him. He carried a child.

  The crowd muttered as he held up the babe for all to view. As the chill air hit it, the infant began to wail. Its thin cries rose into the gray sky.

  Rosten began to read from the scroll. "This folly before you has committed the crime of insolence and dishonesty! She has given birth to a female child and declared it to be a son! And for this crime, the Council of the Book has ordered the punishment of death by burning! Let this be a lesson to all who watch!"

  Beneath the cover of our fur cloaks, Daelyn's hand crept into mine and squeezed. Together, we watched one of Rosten's minions take the jug of oil and splash it on the brush. I stole a glance at Daelyn's face. His eyes were blank, his face in careful lines of inexpression. Only his hand, gripping mine to numbness, betrayed his true feelings.

  "We give an additional warning to any who would try to dupe their betters," Rosten's strong voice carried out over the crowd but couldn't dampen the noise of infant's wailing. He gestured to Simelbon. "Give the child back to its mother."

  Horrified, I almost stepped forward. Only Daelyn's strong grip stopped me. A nearly imperceptible nod of his head kept me still. I watched in mute horror as Simelbon gave the squalling baby to Rosten's man, who attached the child to the pole with more long strands of cord.

  The child's cries had become frantic and choking. In the crowd, I saw many faces with the shadow of concern on them. From the women covered in their veils, I could see nothing.

  I could no longer feel my fingers in Daelyn's grip. I wished I could feel nothing else. Tears burned my eyes but, mindful of Rosten's beady gaze upon me, I blinked and blinked until I forced them away. I kept my gaze blank, my face steady, but inside I was screaming. I couldn't watch but could not risk looking away.

  Rosten himself stepped up to set fire to the brush. In moments, fed by the oil, flames licked at the black bundle squirming in its ties. Thick, black smoke mercifully obscured the sight, but it could not take away the sounds. I wanted desperately to clap my hands over my ears but could do nothing but stand and watch them murder the mother and her baby for the crime of wanting better for her child.

  Beside me, Daelyn trembled though his face remained as blank as new parchment. I could see he wasn't really looking at the scene before us. He'd gone far away. I envied and hated him for that talent.

  It seemed we stood forever in the cold air with the heat of the fire on our faces and the crowd hooting and stamping on the street below us. After a time, the screaming stopped and only the noise of the flames themselves came carried on the breeze. My fingers had gone from numbness to agony, but I didn't ask Daelyn to loosen his grip.

  "Well, Rosten, if that's all," Dae said at last in a voice that belied the tension vibrating in every inch of his body.

  Rosten seemed disappointed. "For now, my lord prince."

  Daelyn gave a thin, insincere smile. "I'm sure you'll have this platform reeking like a country barbecue before long. Good day, Rosten."

  The walk back to the White Palace was swift and unencumbered by citizens. We said nothing on the walk and went straight to his chambers. The heavy door slammed shut behind us. Daelyn let go of my hand and took several steps forward to shrug off his cloak. I cradled my throbbing hand with the other and worked the fingers to be certain they'd not broken from the strength of his grip. I was looking at myself, and so didn't see him make his way into the privy chamber, but the noise from inside drew my attention.

  I ran to the doorway, then to where he'd fallen on his knees to the floor. "My prince! Are you all right?"

  His teeth chattered like dice in a cup. I gathered him into my arms. At first he lay limp, as though dead or unconscious, but then his arms came around my neck and he gripped me like a drowning man.

  I didn't know what to say, or what to do, and so I only held him, and stroked his hair, and murmured wordless sympathies. He continued to shake, and I rocked him in my arms, helpless to do anything else.

  I felt a wet heat on my leg and shifted his weight, slight as it was. A crimson rose had bloomed upon my thigh, and the sight of it had me scrambling to pull him upright. "Daelyn!"

  I helped him to stand and searched for the wound that could have so afflicted him. The blood was dark and thick. I put my hand low on his back, and it came away sticky and red. He'd stopped weeping, but the bleak look in his eyes worried me more than the tears had. He looked dead...or contemplating how to find death.

  I reached for the laces at his throat and took his jacket from him. He didn't protest. I tossed the garment to the floor and pulled his shirt from the waist of his trousers. The tails were soaked with blood. I yanked the shirt over his head and left him in his undertunic while I fumbled at the laces of his waistband.

  His fingers crept over mine and stopped me. "I'm not dying."

  "But th