Chapter 23

“No, not the officials’ entrance,” Borner said, taking her hand to guide her away from the carriage way inside the gate. “We need the servants’ door, and we need to locate Derry, our young guide after the coup.”

Andela walked alongside him as they followed the small stone path leading to the metal gate on the side that Borner and Kanner had used on that fateful night. The entire time she admonished him about his choice of words while on the palace grounds and certainly in the presence of nobles and their ilk. There were manners and protocols to be observed.

“Not Salomet-Dura as well?” he asked.

“I am not going to waste my breath on that suggestion,” Andela said. “You are going to continue to ‘speak truth to power’ as you say, and no one will convince you otherwise.”

“Hmm,” Borner said. He was unsure whether to be puffed up with pride for his stance or embarrassed by his lack of couth. The queen was not the spoilt child from weeks before even if she was not the fully formed royal yet. Holding his tongue was a cowardice he could not tolerate in himself but pummeling a nascent ruler was counterproductive. He chose to be content with the fact that he had kept any opinions to himself for a week.

The guard at the metal gate let them pass. The two guards at the back door held them for a moment while one went to ask his superior. The new queen, or most likely Timmaus, had made certain that no one could crash through the lowly entrances again. Inside the doorway, Borner noticed that the garbage was gone. He asked the seated supervisor if Derry was available. “A few minutes,” the man replied and turned back to his book of entries.

Andela raised an eyebrow at the comment. She held up her index finger with its sharpened nail to Borner and jabbed it under the chin of the little man. “The queen has no patience with the lax ways of the previous administration that failed her father and her brother. I suggest you find Derry immediately or consider losing your silly little book for all time.”

The man looked like a fish gulping air but Andela did not remove her finger. He stood up and she relented. Straightening his jacket, he made as hasty a dignified departure as he could.

Derry appeared a few minutes later, breathing heavily. “Sir. M’lady.”

“We need to return to the servant ways that we traversed after the battle, Derry,” Borner said. “Do you remember the route?”

“Um, yes sir,” he said with a weak smile. “Am I in trouble?”

“Quite the opposite,” Borner said, “but let us speak more as we walk.”

As they climbed one staircase and shifted from one hallway to the next, Derry kept looking back at them with a look of curiosity. They turned into a hallway that had been converted into a storage closet for chairs. Derry pushed on a panel at the far end, and they stepped into the darkened passage. He grabbed the lantern waiting inside and shook it. He added oil from a can with a spout and then lit the wick.

“Where to?” he asked.

“First, we need to visit the private receiving room where first I found you,” Borner said. “The lady needs to confirm that the queen’s throne is prepared as the queen wished.”

Derry nodded and started walking. In two turns Borner was lost, yet he felt more confident this time. He followed with his lover directly behind him. Derry explained that he was taking them to the back hallway, which was the queen’s private entrance, because they were still setting the tables and trying to hang drapes by the public entrance to the receiving room.

When they emerged, no one challenged them and the few that noticed them barely looked up as they bustled about the room. Only half of the drapes were hung and, while heaps of plates and silverware were strategically placed on trays around the room, none of the tables was set.

Andela walked to the front of the throne and pushed down on the back of the seat. With a click of a hidden latch, the back of the seat dropped, and four drawers appeared on the seatback. She opened the second on the left and retrieved the key, sliding it into her bodice. With another push on the seat, it returned to its previous position.

Borner led Derry back to the servant’s panel and urged him inside. “Derry, I need you to take us to that red door we passed as we neared the front of the palace. Do you remember the way?”

Derry seemed to almost take offence that he would not know where something was in the palace. He lifted the lantern, and they were off again at a brisk clip. Borner could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and he did not think it was the exertion. He tried to rein in his impatience as they traveled from corridor to corridor with no light except for the lantern and no idea of how far they had to travel.

Derry came to an abrupt halt and Borner realized that they were at the junction. He ushered over the other two and bade Andela to pull out the key. Her hand was shaking as she inserted the key in the lock. The key slid in.

She tried turning the key, but it would not budge. Borner tried and the lock still would not move. His frustration mounted.

“Maybe it’s rusted,” Derry said. “May I?” as he took the key from Borner and set down the lantern. He pried off the cap on the lantern reservoir and dipped the key into the oil. He handed the key back to Borner who shoved it back in the hole. He wiggled it a little and the mechanism gave a touch. Borner handed back the key and Derry dipped it again. Borner held the dripping key over the keyhole and let the oil seep in. He inserted the key and this time the key rotated enough for Borner to yank at the metal yoke and wrest it from the mechanism. He handed the lock to Derry without a word.

He flipped the latch and pulled open the wooden door. Taking the lantern from Derry he thrust it into the room. The space was small, barely large enough for two of them to stand. On the left was a bastard sword and a shield while on the right was a table and chair. On the table was a book and a small, plain box. Borner spotted an old inkwell at the top corner of the desk. Derry reached in and took the lantern from Borner, hanging it on a hook next to the desk, ever the good servant.

“Does the queen want the sword of the founding liege?” Borner asked, eyeing the plain but well-worn pommel.

“It would be grandest coronation gift ever presented,” Andela said. “However, the journal is the real treasure. Open it, dammit.”

Borner pressed his fingers together and cracked his knuckles. He reached over and carefully opened the leather codex. The pages were brown, but the sweeping lines of the words were unmistakable. The Bodi script was still legible, and the lines were whole.

Borner turned to an early page. He did not see a date above the entry.

“Today I beheaded Durhan, bringing great cries from his tribe. I threw his head on the mound/pile. Brin brought forth the first daughter of Durhan and I took her maidenhood at the gate. Their spirit was broken and they bent their knees/prostrated themselves in supplication. No pleasure I took/found in the woman but was glad/rejoiced that her falling/her loss of status brought the end of the honor killing. The burning in my bones stopped. I rested my sword.”

Using his fingernail rather than touching the pages with his clumsy digits, Borner turned more pages until he found one that had been opened more often than the others. He read the first line to himself and shuddered. He looked up at Andela and winced. He read: