A Mother's Secrets

by Tuppence Van de Vaarst

  The skeptical look Gwyn gave her was enough to make her chuckle again. “Nowhere too dangerous. Just to Venia. I want to see what they’re like, and how easy it will be to integrate them.”

  “Vinet. There’s a naval blockade there right now.”

  She frowned. “It’s just a trade embargo,” she said. “And our men have already been sent out. The city should be secured by the time we get there.”

  Gwyn looked on the verge of objecting again, then shrugged. “Alright. But we send the majority of the guard to escort Niara home and do this detour separately. Do not take her to Venia with you.”

  “Alright,” she agreed.

  Gwyn stood up. “I’m going to get some sleep,” she said. She looked at Vinet. “You probably should too.”

  Vinet suppressed a shudder. “In a little bit,” she temporized. “I want to read this first.”

  Gwyn narrowed her eyes but didn’t say anything. She departed, leaving Vinet alone in silence.

  The Lady of Ninaeva stared at the crackling fire. She didn’t think she could fall asleep again. Not tonight. Would she ever?

  **********

  “Halt!”

  Vinet sighed as she reined her horse in. This was the third time they’d been stopped on this journey, despite the house colors and crest emblazoned prominently on the guards and horses. She was beginning to suspect Gwyn might have been right about this journey.

  As if she could read her thoughts, Gwyn met her eyes and gave hers a brief roll. Vinet suppressed a chuckle.

  The guard, a man in the red uniform of the Regulars, approached them. As he got a better look at Vinet, his expression lightened.

  “My lady!” he exclaimed. He straightened to attention. “Lady Rochelle,” he said, more formally. “What brings you to Venia?”

  Vinet blinked. The man did seem vaguely familiar. Was he one of her own subjects who had joined with the Regulars?

  “Business, soldier,” she said formally. She looked at him more closely. She had seen that sandy hair before. “You’re Ninaevan, right? You were one of my guards?”

  The soldier nodded. “Maarten, my lady. I was a guard at your coronation as Lady of Ninaeva. My Tryza, my wife, works in your kitchens still.”

  Vinet let a genuine smile cross her face. “Tryza! She makes a delightful custard.”

  Maarten grinned. “That she does, my lady.” He glanced back at Vinet’s retinue, and his expression darkened. “I wish you had brought more guards, my lady.”

  Vinet exchanged a look with Gwyn. “Is it dangerous? I understood from the last patrol that the city had been secured.”

  Maarten shrugged. “Secured… Well, it’s not my place to say. By your leave, my lady, I’ll take you to the Lord General. He can answer your questions.”

  That seemed as good a solution as any. Vinet nodded. “Lead on.”

  The gates of Venia were tall, made of hard, black stone that seemed to absorb every ray of light. She didn’t get a chance to examine them further, though. Maarten quickly ushered her party through the gates and down the streets. She caught glimpses of people scurrying here and there, but the presence of so many soldiers seemed to make everyone fearful. Well, that was hardly surprising. She was going to have to convince Gwyn to just let the two of them wander around.

  Maarten seemed on edge as he led them through the streets. They cut straight through the city to the harbor. To Vinet’s surprise, there was a keep on a small jetty. It was surrounded by a patrol of Regulars.

  “Lord General Torainn is inside,” Maarten said, stopping at the beginning of the jetty. He saluted. “Good fortune, my lady.”

  She nodded. “Safe travels, Maarten. I’m sure Tryza wants to see you home soon.”

  A smile brightened Maarten’s face for an instant. “I’d like to see her too.” He was still smiling as he rode away.

  Vinet exchanged another glance with Gwyn. Well, a general. This was a first for her. She’d negotiated with numerous types of people, but a military man was a new one.

  The inside of the keep was exactly as she’d ever imagined a military fortification to be. Everything, from the men patrolling the halls, to the messengers running back and forth with scraps of paper, screamed military bureaucracy.

  A page met them as she entered the keep. At her request to see Lord General Torainn, he only took one look at her clothing before gesturing that she should follow him up the stairs.

  She could feel Gwyn’s approval as they ascended a flight of spiral stairs. She suppressed a smile. Like Ilhelm, this place was built for defense. Unlike Ilhelm, it seemed that they might need it.

  They were shown into a tiny, sparse office. One single desk and chair were all the furniture in the room, and the desk was covered in papers. A man rose from the desk as they entered. His uniform marked him as a Regular, and the decorations on his chest, a general. Other than that, he did not look particularly militaristic. He was slightly shorter than Vinet was and regarded her with a guileless expression. “Lady Vinet! So good of one of the Council to take an interest in the proceedings here.”

  Vinet smiled. “It is in everyone’s best interests that this is over as quickly as possible, and that the integration of Venia into the kingdom is smooth.”

  Torainn blinked. “I believe you mean New Venia, Lady Vinet. That’s what my boys have been calling it, anyway, and the locals seem to be following suit.”

  “New Venia?” Vinet looked at him, nonplussed. “Why? It’s still Venia.”

  Torainn shrugged. “Oh, it’s part of a new kingdom now, new beginnings, you know, that sort of thing. It’s good for morale.”

  Vinet frowned, but decided to ignore the nonsensical reason. “So, how are things here? Is everything secure?”

  Torainn nodded. “As secure as they can be, right now. Blockade’s still out there, but they’ll leave soon enough now that the city’s ours. Jyria doesn’t have an army, not a large enough one to challenge us at least.”

  Vinet nodded in satisfaction.

  Torainn blinked again, seeming to be struck by a thought. “Say, the Venian nobility are hosting a little get-together this afternoon. I’m sure they’d love to have a Saemarian councilor as their guest. Someone to show their gratitude to.”

  Vinet could almost hear Gwyn’s suppressed chuckle. Her eyes widened briefly in alarm. “Actually, I’d rather not,” she said hastily. “I just came to assess the situation, talk to the merchants, that sort of thing. With your permission, I’d like to tour around the city a bit.”

  Torainn shrugged. “As you wish. I’ll designate a patrol to keep you company.”

  Vinet raised a hand. “I was thinking just my guard and me,” she said. “I think people would be more willing to talk.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  She was taken aback by the shift of his tone. “Excuse me?”

  Torainn flushed. “Pardon me, Lady Vinet, but that is out of the question. There are still Jyrian agents in the city and having a Saemarian noble wander around alone would be like placing raw meat in front of a wolf. They aren’t as… straightforward as you or I. So, like it or not, you will have a patrol with you.”

  Vinet stared at him, trying to read how serious he was. His eyes were dark and unflinching, and met hers straight on. She got the feeling that even if she refused, there would still be a patrol following her.

  “My lady…” the warning in Gwyn’s voice was clear.

  She glanced sideways at Gwyn. Gwyn was shaking her head slightly. She sighed. While she would have ignored the general’s advice, she was not going to avoid Gwyn’s. “Alright,” she said. “But make it as small as possible. I want to talk to people, not frighten them.”

  Torainn smiled thinly. “As you say, Lady Vinet. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  She shook her head. “That will be all, General. I will tell the Council of your accomplishments here.”

  He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m sure Lord Conn will visit me as soon as I return. He ha
s quite an interest in military matters, that one.”

  Vinet couldn’t read his tone, so she simply took his words at face value. “That he does. Have you met?”

  Torainn nodded. “He was interested in how the Regulars were run. As Lord General, I believe I know that as well as anyone else!”

  “I’m sure you do.” Vinet was losing interest. “I’ll leave you to your duties, Lord General Torainn.”

  He saluted as she turned to leave. He was already settling back at his desk as she walked out the door.

  “I am not going to get any information this way,” she hissed at Gwyn as they exited the keep.

  Gwyn didn’t back down. “If he says there are Jyrian agents here, then I believe him,” she whispered back fiercely. “It’s my job to keep you safe. I have no experience with anything Jyrian agents will do.”

  Vinet looked skyward and tried not to roll her eyes. If she heard the term ‘Jyrian agents’ one more time she was going to scream.

  Her desire was not tempered when they exited the keep. Already, somehow summoned by the general, there were a good dozen Regulars waiting to swell her own guardsmen. She was not going to get anywhere to talk to anyone.

  Nevertheless, she was determined to try. She led the retinue along the docks, trying to ignore everyone except Gwyn. No one else tried to do the same thing, however. People scurried out of her way long before she came within reasonable hailing distance. None of the shops looked open, either. Everything was shut down.

  After wandering down the entire harbor and up two streets, she gave up. She shifted her focus, looking instead for an inn. An innkeeper would have to be open. And if they couldn’t be persuaded to talk immediately, then perhaps staying the night would loosen their lips. Coin tended to do that.

  To her relief, there was an inn just a block ahead. She walked towards it, her steps purposeful. She heard Gwyn’s intake of breath as she realized her goal. She suppressed a smile. Gwyn knew what she was thinking. The Regulars following her didn’t, however. To her relief, most of them waited outside, only their captain following her into the inn.

  The place was nearly empty. Only a few fishermen sat in the corner, and they turned away from her as she entered. The innkeeper looked as though he would like to do the same, but sighed and asked, “Can I help you, my lady?”

  “Lodging for me, my bodyguard, and six guardsmen,” she said, naming her personal retinue. The Regulars were not staying with her overnight.

  The innkeeper’s eyes widened, but he nodded. “Very good, my lady.”

  “Lady Rochelle,” the Regulars captain tried to interject.

  Vinet turned to him and gave him her best noble glare. “Yes?” she demanded.

  He shrank back but persisted. “I am sure Lord General Torainn would be more than willing to host you in the keep.”

  “I am sure he would,” she said sharply. “And yet my guards and I will stay here.”

  She didn’t leave any room for further questions. As she turned away, she noticed Gwyn sidling up to the captain and whispering something in his ear. Whatever it was, she hoped that it would satisfy him.

  She looked around and sighed. “Is there a library in this town?” she asked the innkeeper.

  He nodded warily. “There is. Two streets down, a right, then three blocks and a left. Large wood building. You can’t miss it.”

  Wood? Vinet refrained from shaking her head incredulously. Who would keep books in a wooden building?

  “That’s where I’ll be the rest of the day,” she told the captain. “If you want your men to stand around watching me, you’re free to.”

  He nodded stiffly. “I have my orders, my lady.”

  “I’m sure you do,” she grumbled. Well, she’d be rid of them tonight.

  **********

  It was late when she and Gwyn finally turned in for the night. Gwyn was sharing the room with Vinet. She had absolutely insisted on it and damn any rumors they might be starting. They had faced those before and likely would again.

  Vinet closed her eyes, trying to call up sleep. She hoped another nightmare wouldn’t claim her. She didn’t want to deal with one, not when she was here, so far from home. The nervous tension in the air was starting to get to her, and she needed her wits about her.

  Sleep did not come to her easily. She tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable. The bed was harder than she was used to, despite it being an upper-class inn. The air felt stuffy and oppressive as well, as if the city was waiting for the Jyrian blockade to break.

  Finally, she drifted off, but her dreams were not restful either. A giant skull with dozens of eyes dancing around it floated towards her, laughing an evil laugh as it got closer and closer. She couldn’t run, as much as she tried. She opened her mouth to scream.

  Her eyes flew open at the sound of a shout. She nearly screamed again at the glint of steel in the air above her. The blankets were tangled about her, no doubt from tossing and turning. She couldn’t move!

  The sword froze above her, and she heard a choking sound. The dark figure next to her bed began to double over, and she saw the tip of a sword sticking out of its chest. Blood started to drip to the floor.

  She finally freed herself from the blankets and scrambled to sit up as the body slumped to the floor. Gwyn tore her sword from the body and hissed a little in disgust. Vinet stared at Gwyn, wide-eyed.

  “Assassin,” Gwyn said succinctly.

  Vinet stared at the body slumped on the floor. It was impossible to determine what gender it was, layered as they were by many robes and scarves. The face was entirely concealed.

  “Jyrian agents?” she managed to whisper. She hadn’t taken the General’s concerns about them seriously.

  Gwyn shrugged. “Only one way to find out.” Without waiting for Vinet’s questions, she turned the body over, wincing as she got blood on her hands. She began unwrapping the scarves.

  Vinet started at the pounding of feet on the stairs and a heavy knock on the door.

  “My lady! Are you all right?”

  “I’d better deal with that,” she managed. She shook her head, trying to clear it.

  “Wait,” Gwyn’s voice was sharp, a tone that Vinet rarely heard her use to address her. She stiffened, immediately on alert.

  “What is it?” she asked, dropping her voice to a whisper.

  In answer, Gywn beckoned. Reluctantly, Vinet moved to where she had a view of the face that Gwyn had just revealed from the scarves.

  Bright green eyes stared up at her, still clear in the shock of death. It was like looking at a mirror of her own. But the face…

  Sharp angled cheekbones, slanted eyes, and bright golden hair did not distract from the one feature that made identification certain. The long, swept ears of an elf were prominently visible on the assassin.

  “An elf?” she whispered. “How is that… why…” she stared at the elf woman, trying to process her emotions. This woman had just tried to kill her, and she should be glad she was dead, but still…

  Gwyn shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “But look at that,” she pointed to the elf’s forehead. Right in the center was a tattoo of a single teardrop, ringed by thorns.

  “What does that mean?” she whispered.

  Gwyn shook her head but was prevented from answering by a pounding on the door. “My lady? Forgive me, my lady, but are you alright?”

  Gwyn rolled her eyes and stood up. She walked over to the door and threw it open, pointing her sword at the entrance.

  “Gwyn,” Vinet began.

  The innkeeper stared at the sword in Gwyn’s hand, his eyes wide and terrified. “Forgive me, my lady, but… the shout, the scream…”

  “Gwyn, stop threatening the poor man,” Vinet said.

  Gwyn backed up a step to let the man have a clear view of the room but didn’t lower her sword. When the innkeeper saw the body on the floor, his eyes widened even further.

  “Go summon the town watch, or the Regulars, or whoever is in charge of
this sort of thing,” Gwyn snapped at the innkeeper. “And send someone with an urgent message to Lord General Torainn in the keep. Now! Someone just tried to assassinate my lady!”

  The man’s eyes looked like those of a fish. He babbled something unintelligible, then turned and ran. Vinet could hear his feet pounding down the stairs as he shouted for someone named Mara.

  Vinet stared at Gwyn. “Was that really necessary?” she protested weakly.

  Gwyn glared at her. “Someone just tried to kill you, Vinet. I am not letting that go unnoticed. Someone had better investigate this, or they’ll have me to answer to.”

  Vinet sat back on the bed. She wasn’t certain whether she was up to dealing with the questions of Lord General Torainn or any of the Regulars or Venian officials.

  Gwyn’s gaze softened. “I’ll answer all the questions. You try to get some rest before the hoards descend.”

  She tried not to roll her eyes. Gwyn’s description was far too apt.

  **********

  Despite Vinet’s protests, they were escorted out of Venia the very next morning. Gwyn was no help, siding firmly with Lord General Torainn’s opinion that the sooner Vinet left the city, the better. Vinet supposed they were right, but she disliked the almost condescending way the lord general had talked to her, just because she didn’t have any military experience.

  They stopped for the night in a town a hard day’s ride out of Venia. Normally, Vinet would have stopped in the market, talked to the innkeeper, and tried to discover everything she could about the surrounding area. Tonight, however, she barricaded herself in her room, telling Gwyn not to let anyone in.

  “What are you up to?” Gwyn demanded.

  Vinet met Gwyn’s eyes. “I’m trying to figure out who that assassin was,” she said.

  Gwyn stared at her. “And how do you plan on doing that?” she asked.

  Vinet didn’t answer, but she thought it. The Book of Truths was packed in her personal belongings. It rarely left her side. She didn’t feel comfortable leaving a magical artifact like that out of her reach.

  Gwyn knew her too well. “Vinet…” she began, her tone cautioning.