AN: I have labeled this as my rejoinder in response to a well-rounded critique. ;D Reading the reviews, I noted the Mary-Sue criticism and have read my way back through the story thus far. Dully noted. I agree that in some ways we do have our hands in a few pots, so to speak- which is probably in part due to the fact that this is a round robin story with many authors involved. And in the first chapter I wrote, if I edit it, I would make Aoife slightly less excellent in archery. Passable only. And I would make the hitting the hurrok less of a skill bit than a bit of luck in a bad moment. Also in this chapter, I tried to give an explanation for her unique ability to heal the Sickness without making her too special. :D I hope this helps tone down anything sounding cliched. :)

I'm hoping that this chapter makes everyone's heads reel…. ;)

~Eaglefire

Chapter 16

"Alex." The quiet, unnerved voice of the king caused Iaian to look up; Jonathan of Conte was staring past the young mage, seeing something that no one else in the prince's chambers could. His brilliant blue eyes seemed years away. Thayet turned her stern stare on Iaian; he resisted the urge to shrink from his queen's glare.

"Your mother is the Countess of Arpod? And yet you are illegitimate? Raised by your father?"

"I never knew my father," Iaian answered, closing his eyes in resignation. "But the Count of Arpad knew I was not his. Because my mother begged and pleaded he allowed me to live and I was given to a woman in the village. My… brother has always found it a source of pleasure to remind me of my position… and his." He looked back up at the queen, whose frown grew.

"So you admit to conspiracy in collaboration with your half brother, but deny knowing any particulars?" Iaian bowed his head.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"But you now suspect treachery. And only come forth now because of the position of the lady Aoife of Eldorne?"

"Yes," Iaian confirmed, ire rising with impatience. "Can you see to Aoife? Why is she being charged?" He watched unrepentantly as Fianna raised an eyebrow at his impudence.

"Uline, summon the captain of the Guard," Thayet ordered. "He should be on his way here now to disclose the particulars anyway. Tell him to send men to escort the lady Aoife here- discretely, mind you. I do not want a squad of men parading her halfway across the palace in chains." With a quick curtsy, Uline exited the room.

"I did not issue the order," the king said, finally entering the conversation. He surveyed Iaian with a heavy, thoughtful gaze. "I would assume that someone sent information anonymously, and the Guard has the authority to act in such emergencies without consulting either of us. The captain, I assure you, would not have done anything without due cause." Iaian wondered if perhaps the man might have been overly hasty in his zeal to protect his king and queen, but said nothing. It was certainly not his place to be wondering why people were so quick to suspect treachery….

There was a loud knock at the door before it opened and the man in question stepped through. He bowed with a quick, business-like air.

"Your Majesties. Two men have been sent to escort the Lady Aoife here. Only an hour ago, I received intelligence from an anonymous source that she had the means to contrive the Sweating Sickness." He brandished a letter and handed it to the king before he continued to speak.

"What do you mean, the means?" Thayet questioned sharply.

"A magical object, Your Majesty. It would appear that, according to this source, the traitorous Duke of Conte was able to imbue objects with great power and ability to enable them to work his will even after death."

"Like his sword," Jonathon of Conte mused as he glanced up from the letter. "And this source claims that my late cousin put the spell that caused the Sickness in a ring. Whoever holds the ring can control it." Iaian's face turned ashen pale. "It further explains that Aoife was offered assistance to depose me and accepted…. After a mage brewed the Sickness out of the way of detection, he sent the ring to her so that she could keep herself from falling ill and direct the sickness towards Liam and others…. Several different times, other conspirators sent immortal attacks at different nobles by her orders." He fixed his eyes on Iaian. "If this is from Vishay, and he is trying to throw blame on Aoife, I assume you know what this is about. What ring?"

"I didn't know," the mage said shakily. "The ring- it was mine, once my grandfather's- it was a gift from the Duke of Conte, my father said it had powerful magic- but I only knew the protection spells. Immunity to poison. Powerful mages could use it to turn invisible. There were other links to spells, including a tracking one, but nothing harmful-"

"The Gods know what Roger spelled that ring to do," the king said grimly. "Harmless? That ring is anything but." He stood. "The letter further says she was planning on fleeing the city within a fortnight with her accomplices, because she would unite with her allies to attack the palace." He pursed his lips. "It mentions you, Iaian, as a target. She was to manipulate you to learn Numair Salmalin's secrets."

"She's never asked me anything about Master Numair," Iaian retorted sharply. Jon raised an eyebrow.

"If Vishay sent this, and he is bent on discrediting Aoife, why would he even draw attention to you? If you have helped him before?"

"He suspects I have second thoughts on this matter."

"Indeed? Then why protect you?" Iaian scowled.

"I don't know."

"You claim not to know quite a bit, considering how integral a part of this plot you appear to be." Silence. Iaian held the stare of the king for a long moment, jaw flexing. He had no answers; he never could fathom his half-brother's mad reasoning. His eyes narrowed.

"Ask him yourself, then."

"I intend to." Waving a hand at Iaian, Jonathon summoned a blue flame which swiftly bound the youth's hands. "The Mage's Lock. Do not try to use your Gift." He turned to the captain of the Guard. "Find Vishay of Arpod and arrest him in the King's name for conspiracy and treason against the Crown. Now."

The leering man laughed at her again. Aoife strove not to cringe as he began to speak.

"It's like seeing her all over again. Makes it seem like only days since we were both sentenced to life imprisonment." He grinned horribly at her. "Not many of us left now…. They sent her to another prison, years ago. She could be still alive, for all I know… if you call this living." Aoife closed her eyes, regretting having called attention to herself. "I served Alexander of Tirragen," he continued. "He had always wanted her, you know… he admired her cruelty as much as her beauty. Can't say she's very lovely now." He laughed at his own joke. Aoife could not help herself; she had to ask.

"You served Tirragen?" He chuckled, a sound that remind her of a creaking hinge.

"I was one of his serving boys. Didn't do much other than send a few sealed letters to your damned relative and her consort, the high and mighty Duke. But they didn't dare take any chances with any of us… and so you find yourself down here, too, little Eldorne?" Aoife cringed as he leaned towards her again. "What did you do? Spit on the Queen's hem?"

"Nothing," she whispered. The man scoffed.

"No Eldorne slut ever did nothing- treacherous to the bone. A heart as cold as that one couldn't be an accident. It's something in the blood, just as sure as any Gift." This was becoming far too much like one of her nightmares. Aoife wrapped her arms around herself, shaking her head, fiddling with the ring she had been given, the one Vishay had told her would bring her luck and happiness… how well had that turned out?

"No. No, I didn't-" He laughed again, a sound that was too close to a cry for her ears.

"Lying snakes, all of you- even when the evidence is right afore my eyes, you try to deny it all." Aoife stopped trying to hide her face- shocked, she turned to the prisoner.

"What evidence?" she whispered. He shook his head.

"I'd almost believe you, Eldorne, with those wide eyes," he said softly, almost kindly. "Except that I knowd better. That there-" He nodded to her hand, now lying on the ground to support her weight. "-is the magicked ring of the Duke hisself. Don't think I don't know." Aoife's jaw dropped; her stomach plummeted. By what stroke of luck had she, the niece of Delia of Eldorne, come across the ring of Roger of Conte? It was not luck. It was design, someone's plot against her…. For what reason, she could not begin to guess.

Before either of them could say more, footsteps resounded across the stone floor. As Aoife struggled to her feet, two guards appeared at her cell door with a key ring. Wordlessly, they entered and swiftly unchained her. She glanced at them both, bewildered, but could discern nothing; their grim faces were shadows in the dim light.

"What is happening?" One of them grabbed her by the arm and pulled her out into the passageway. "Does the queen know about this?" She managed to catch a look exchanged between the two of them.

"Give Delia my best, when you see her next!" called out the man from Tirragen. "And Roger too, when you see him at the Black God's Judgment!" Then he burst into raucous laughter as the two guards grabbed her by the shoulders and marched her down the long line of cells, away from the door from which they had entered and Aoife had been brought in through earlier. Foreboding filled the pit of Aoife's stomach.

"As a noble, I have the right to trial," she said, voice quavering more than she had wanted it to. "As one of the queen's ladies-in-waiting, I have the right to demand to see her-"

"Deepest apologies, my lady," one of them finally said, walking even more quickly now; they were dragging her through the dungeon- she practically ran to keep pace. "Secrecy, you must understand, is vital-"

"But I don't-" Suddenly they stopped at a closed door; yanking out the keys once more, one of the men unlocked the door and without any more explanation, she found herself shoved into the room. She whipped around to throw herself at the door as it slammed behind her.

"Don't panic," she whispered to herself before turning to gauge her surroundings. First, as she looked, her eyes widened. Then she relaxed, and a small smile crossed her face.

"Vishay," she breathed, relief flooding her muscles. He was not the person she had expected to see, but that did not matter. Now she was with someone she knew. Someone who would listen to her.

The handsome man smiled as he approached. He bowed.

"My lady Eldorne," he purred, taking her hand and kissing it as he had the first time they had met. "Forgive my rudeness." Aoife could not suppress the small laugh that bubbled to her lips. Their situation was absolutely absurd; they were in what appeared to be a small study, unexceptional except that there was a concealed passageway in the bookcase left ajar behind Vishay, in the middle of the dungeons, where she had been thrown after being arrested for treason. "We have so little time." He bit his lip. "I only wish I had realized sooner… then maybe we would not be in this predicament." Aoife frowned.

"What-"

"Iaian Hunter is plotting against the Crown," he said bluntly, stepping forward. As the words left his mouth, Aoife froze; no, the words coming from his mouth- it was unreal, impossible- "He presented evidence to Their Majesties that will frame you, Aoife, and your fief-"

"No," she managed. There was a mistake. How could that be true? Iaian had been with her- Vishay grabbed her hand, grasping at the ring. The ring.

"I knew I recognized it," he hissed, face earnestly staring back into hers. "It's his. Hunter's- I could not place it- it might really be harmless, but he told them all that you used the ring to brew the Sweating Sickness- he said it was the reason you could heal those who fell ill-" No. It was impossible. "I tried to find you and warn you, but he had already found you- told the guards to wait for his signal." An image of Iaian lying on her bed, next to her, appeared in her mind. Had he truly been playing her? Counting the seconds until the guards burst in?

Why else hadn't they taken him with her, when they had arrested her…? They must have known he was there, keeping an eye on her- There had always been something about his manner she could never understand… something secretive. How could Vishay be mistaken about this? She gazed into his clear, pleading eyes. How could he be wrong? He would not make such accusations unless he was certain-

At the very least, Iaian suspected her of treason. At worst, he was framing her. Her head reeled; she swayed. Vishay swept up, wrapping his arm around her.

"Aoife, are you listening? You have to come with me now, otherwise you'll be killed-"

"No," she protested, hardly knowing what she was doing. She fumbled for the door blindly. "Thayet will believe me- she'll figure this all out-" She put her hand on the handle of the door. Thayet. She had to get to Thayet. "Why would Iaian-I have to talk to him-" Vishay draped his hand over hers, enclosing it in his fist.

"I'm afraid," he murmured in her ear. "I can't allow you to do that." Before she could say anything, he stuffed a kerchief into her face. She tried to move, but he pinned her to the door, forcing her to inhale the sweet, cloying scent of the cloth. For a moment, nothing happened; she was locked in a silent, futile struggle, her eyes locked with his.

Then, slowly, the room darkened, and Aoife sank to the floor in a dead faint.

AN: Reviews? :D