The Cursewright's Vow

Chapter 25: The Grand Curia, Part 1

Denisius considered this, reflecting that Erstan might not be such a terrible man after all, at least compared to his sovereign. "Well -- er -- if that's the case, he overestimated these Swiftfoot wolves. We've seen nothing of them. They seem content to let us be."

"I hope you're right," Ammas said softly. "But wolves are excellent stalkers, Lord Marhollow, and werewolves even more so. You should bear that in mind." Denisius nodded, a little abashed. They both sat there in not uncomfortable silence, watching as Casimir rummaged through Barthim's pack to procure some seretto leaves. "He almost killed me, you know," Ammas said.

"The Emperor?"

"Thray."

Surprise lit Denisius's features. "When was this?"

"During the dissolution. Or right at the end of it. Some of the smaller Academies had yet to fall but there was little doubt they soon would. He found where I'd been hiding, out in Cobblestown with a few others from my fellowship. Told me there was a chance to -- " Ammas looked down at his hands, where the brass key continued its little dance across his fingers. Denisius had noted the key a while ago. Ammas seemed obsessed with it. 

The cursewright looked back up, drawing a deep breath. "He told me there was a chance to save my mother, and possibly my father as well. Oh, he would have to be imprisoned, even exiled, but the Emperor was willing to listen to reason. So Varallo Thray told me. I should have known better, but I'd heard no news of them in months, and I was desperate, and -- looking back -- I was very young. So I came to Gallowsport, to my home, where Thray collected me to escort me to Talinara. The man wasn't even in disguise. The onetime senior clerk to the Overseer who had plotted to remove the Emperor, and somehow he'd already secured his own safety." An ugly scowl twisted Ammas's mouth. "Another lie, of course. He brought me to the Silverlamp Theatre, headed off to speak with the Emperor. Before he ever came back -- "

Ammas turned away, unwilling to speak of what he had seen. Denisius didn't prompt him, and was not even sure why Ammas was telling him this. Perhaps dealing with Silenio had put him in mind of those sad events. Denisius glanced up and saw Carala was watching them closely, a frown on her lips. Wolfish ears, Denisius remembered. She had heard every word, her expression growing ever more somber as Casimir went about brewing the tea.

Ammas cleared his throat and looked up, still toying with the key as he spoke. "Well. What happened at that theatre happened. If I had been of a mind to pay attention to anything but -- but what I saw, I'd have been expecting to be arrested at any moment. But no one ever came for me, no one recognized me. Eventually I realized I needed to flee. Into Talinara's sewers first, then out of the city a few days later. And that, Lord Marhollow, was the last time I ever saw Varallo Thray, and the last time I ever hope to see him." The smile he gave Denisius was thin and sickly. "I put no plot beyond him. So yes. We cannot rule out that he is responsible for what these Swiftfoot assassins have become."

Denisius pondered this until he felt his head might split. Erstan Gallis was loyal to the Emperor, and perfectly compliant to the wishes of Varallo Thray, but he was not a player in the games of the Imperial Court, and so Denisius had little notion how he might navigate them himself. "But why not tell us, if he knew? Was he trying to get us killed as well? Why bring me to the Maathinhold that night? What does he want?"

"Lord Marhollow," Ammas said kindly, "if I knew that, I don't think I'd be in this city or anywhere near Carala."

"And yet here you are."

"And yet here I am."

Ammas and the younger man smiled at each other, then began to laugh. Terrible guilt continued to ripple through Ammas's belly, but in the end he realized Barthim was right: whatever there was between him and Carala was doomed to be a short-lived thing, and once she was beyond his care then whether or not she married Denisius was out of his control. When he realized Carala herself had approached them, a bemused smile on her face, he only began to laugh harder.

"I should love to know what is so amusing, Master Cursewright."

"I don't know," Ammas said, and the fact that this was completely accurate only made him collapse into even more insensible laughter. "Perhaps I am as mad as you think," he said at last, wiping a tear away from one eye.

"It would not surprise me," Carala replied drily. "Deni, may I speak with Ammas alone?"

"Of course," Denisius smiled. "I think I'll see if I can lose at cards to Cass again."

They watched Lord Marhollow saunter across the warehouse, Carala seating herself at Ammas's side. "How badly were you hurt?"

Ammas frowned down at his belly. His shirt was tied only loosely and the shallow cut Silenio had left on him was easily visible. "Not badly. It itches. Back at the house I have some unguent I need to put on it. But it could have been much worse."

Carala, who was all too familiar with her brother's exploits, only nodded. "I know this is hard for you, Ammas, trusting him -- "

"I don't trust him," Ammas said flatly. "If I trusted him I would have let him go into the city alone." 

Not long after Ammas had confronted Silenio with the truth of Swiftfoot Carting's purpose, the prince had asked (insisted, really) that he be permitted to go into Gallowsport and find the men who had fled in the face of Ammas's magic. Ammas had consented so long as he went with Barthim and Vos watching him, and without his sword. They had been gone well over an hour. Ammas suspected those soldiers would never be found. 

When the trio returned, he would inform that there would be no venturing into Gallowsport alone for the remainder of their stay here, and if possible they should not split up at all. He tried not to feel guilty. Sure as he was that the Swiftfoot wolves had fallen on those men, he hadn't wanted them dead unless there were no other choice.