Sara Douglass – The Serpent Bride – DarkGlass Mountain Book 1

her through.”

“I have heard that you are expecting a child,” Borchard said to Ishbel. “I hope that we can

offer you good rest and comfort here in Kyros. Come, let me take you inside.”

Borchard waited until they”d eaten, and then further, until Maximilian had seen Ishbel to

the chamber and into bed, before he asked Maximilian about the events of the past few months.

They were alone now—Lixel and Garth having retired for the night; Egalion seeing to the

settling of the Emerald Guard—and sharing a pitcher of warmed spiced wine by a fire.

Maximilian took a long draft of the wine from his glass, then held it out for Borchard to

refill.

“To be honest, my friend,” he said, “I have no idea where to begin.”

“With Ishbel, perhaps, as she was the reason you traveled this far distant to begin with.”

“With Ishbel, then.” As Borchard sat listening and occasionally refilling Maximilian”s

glass, Maximilian related a reasonably full version of the events that had enveloped him ever

since he”d left Escator. Some of them Borchard already knew, for Maximilian had stopped in

Kyros on his way east to meet Ishbel, and many things Borchard, as his father, had heard from

other sources. Maximilian did not relate everything, most particularly not that which had

occurred between him and Ishbel in the woodsman”s hut, but in all else he was frank with

Borchard, knowing that the information would go directly back to Malat and that Malat would

appreciate honesty and directness before all else.

“And so,” Maximilian concluded, “here we are, finally in some comfort due to you and

your father”s generosity. Tell me, if you can, what news from Sirus? How badly is my name

being bruited about?”

“As to your name, Maximilian, it does poorly, I am afraid. Sirus is certain that you, or

your lovely wife, were responsible for Allemorte”s death and that Ishbel is likely deeply involved

in some Outlander plot to invade the Central Kingdoms. Maximilian, I hate to ask this of you,

but are you certain of your wife?”

Maximilian did not know how to answer that. Was he certain of Ishbel? No, he wasn”t.

She harbored far too many secrets, and he was still uncertain of her true relationship with the

Coil. She was somehow tied to Elcho Falling…but he had no idea how, or if she consciously

concealed what she did know. He wanted to trust Ishbel unreservedly, but “wanting” did not help

when so many doubts remained.

Maximilian became aware that he”d hesitated too long, and his mouth lifted wryly. “She

has her secrets, Borchard, but I do not think them murderous ones.”

“Perhaps,” Borchard said. “Maxel, Sirus” accusations are serious. You and Ishbel were

the only ones close to Allemorte when he was struck—”

“And Sirus.”

“Sirus would hardly be likely to murder one of his own barons.”

Maximilian contented himself with sending Borchard a deeply cynical look.

“Oh, Maxel, surely not!”

“No, I suppose I do not suspect Sirus of this. All I can say is that besides myself and

Ishbel, there were countless servants and guards within two or three paces of us, and the deep

stench of a black enchantment hanging over Allemorte”s corpse. And as for Rilm

Evenor—neither Ishbel nor myself were within a hundred leagues of that murder, and cannot,

surely, be suspected of it.”

“The „deep stench of a black enchantment”? You did not mention this earlier.”

Maximilian drained his wineglass and then waggled it before Borchard, asking for a

refill. “I do not think Allemorte was the target. I think Ishbel was.”

“Ishbel? Why?”

Maximilian had said nothing to Borchard about what the ring had screamed. How could

he? Borchard would not have understood. “An intuition. I can explain it no further, Borchard.”

Now it was Borchard who shot the deeply cynical look.

Maximilian shifted uncomfortably. He wished he could talk to Borchard about the secrets

of Elcho Falling, but they were such deep secrets, mysteries only to be discussed among the

initiated, and he could not speak of them to his friend.

“Borchard,” he said, “have you heard any news, or even rumor, of troubles apart from

those that ensnare the Outlands and Sirus and Fulmer?”

“You want more?” Borchard gave a small snort. “No. Praise gods. The trouble with the

Outlands is bad enough.”

“Nothing…no news from the south?”

“South?”

“From the Tyranny of Isembaard?”

Borchard frowned. “There is never any news from the Tyranny of Isembaard, Maxel!

They keep themselves to themselves. We are too poor and uncultured to be of any concern to

them.”

Maximilian sipped his wine. He”d been concerned that the troubles in the Central

Kingdoms had been somehow tied to the necessity for the Lord of Elcho Falling to wake, but if

there was no problem in Isembaard, then maybe he could relax a little. Maybe there would be

many months, perhaps even years, before he was required to do anything.

Maybe.

“Look,” said Borchard, setting his own wine to one side and standing up, “perhaps we

can continue this in the morning. I”m tired, and you look exhausted. I”ll leave you to your rest

now, and return midafternoon tomorrow. I ask only that you and yours do not leave the confines

of this town house and its courtyard.”

“Of course not,” said Maximilian, now also standing. “Borchard, again I thank you for

this welcome, and this town house. You are a friend indeed.”

Borchard smiled, nodded, put a hand on Maximilian”s shoulder, then left the room.

He opened the door to the dim corridor outside, and walked through.

Straight onto the blade of a sword.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Kyros, the Central Kingdoms

Maximilian froze, caught between disbelief and horror. Then he lunged forward, just as

Borchard staggered back into the room.

There was a sword buried in his belly.

It was one of the Emerald Guard”s distinctive weapons.

Maximilian caught Borchard as he lost his balance, breaking his fall before he reached

the floor. He lay him down gently, unable for the moment to look at the sword, thinking only that

he needed to be careful as at least half a handbreadth of the blade protruded from Borchard”s

back.

Borchard had his hands gripped about the hilt. His abdomen and thighs were soaked in

blood, and now a thick stream of it bubbled from his mouth.

“Why, Maxel?” Borchard said, his hands scrabbling uselessly about the hilt of the sword.

He spat out a great clot of blood. “Why?”

Then he died.

Maximilian could do nothing but kneel by his friend”s body, now staring sightlessly. He

was in deep, cold shock, unable to process the events of the last few moments, or to truly

comprehend what had just happened.

He did not realize that he was kneeling on the floor, his back to the door, utterly

defenseless against Borchard”s murderer.

A step sounded behind him, then a soft gasp of shock.

“Maxel!”

He turned his head, very slightly, just enough to see Ishbel standing there, clutching a

shawl about her nightgown, huge eyes in a white face.

“Why are you out of bed?” Maximilian said. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought I heard something, and—”

“Go back to your bed, Ishbel.”

“Maxel? What has happened?” Ishbel crept a little closer.

“I said to go back to your bed!”

She froze. “Maxel—”

“Get back to the bedchamber and do not move from there until I allow it!”

Ishbel went utterly still. Then, very slowly and very deliberately, she turned her back and

walked away.

Egalion came within moments, closely followed by Garth.

“Ishbel called me,” Egalion said, kneeling down next to Maximilian, who still had not

moved.

Borchard remained as he had died, half on one side, his hands still wrapped about the hilt

of the sword, his eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling, blood still oozing very slowly from his

mouth and belly.

“Garth,” Egalion said, “get the Emerald Guard up, weaponed and surrounding this room.

Then get Lixel. You can do nothing here.”

Garth nodded, leaving the room.

“Maximilian,” Egalion said softly. “What happened?”

Maximilian made a helpless gesture. “I don”t know, Egalion. Borchard opened the door

to leave, took a step out, then staggered back in, the sword in his body. He died within

heartbeats. I didn”t see who…I didn”t see anyone, gods damn it!”

“Ishbel?” Egalion said, his voice still very quiet. “Why was she here? I thought she was

abed and asleep hours ago. Was she here when Borchard was struck?”

“Yes. No. I don”t know. I can”t think.”

“Death is following her everywhere, Maximilian.”

Maximilian didn”t respond.

“I will set guards about her bedchamber as well,” Egalion said, and Maximilian did not

countermand it.

“Maximilian, I am sorry, but I need to ask this. Do you think she was responsible for

this?”

“I don”t know. I can”t bear to think about it. She was here immediately after, and I don”t

know why. How she knew.”

Egalion looked at the body once more, then back at Maximilian. “Maxel, we need to get