A Mother's Secrets

by Tuppence Van de Vaarst

  Jimesseran’s face brightened as she handed it over. Eagerly, he bent over his maps, rustling through them and finally discovering where it fit. “There!” he exclaimed, pointing. Vinet saw that the map she’d given him extended the map he’d had of the land north of Hillsdale. He grinned up at her. “This will come in most handy, my lady…?” he looked at her questioningly.

  “Lady Vinet Rochelle of Ninaeva,” she answered. “And this is Lord Kamian Silas of Hinswold.”

  “Councilors!” Jimesseran obviously recognized their names, if not their appearances. He looked up hopefully. “Dare I hope you’ve come with an answer for my proposal?”

  Kamian shifted angrily, and Vinet glanced sharply at him. “A disappointing one, unfortunately,” she said. “The Council has… other matters to occupy them. But Lord Kamian and myself are quite intrigued by your expedition, and I believe both of us might fund you privately.’’

  “The others don’t understand,” Kamian growled. “Exploration for exploration’s sake should be enough. Otherwise we all stagnate and die.”

  Jimesseran shrugged philosophically. “It was a long shot, in any case. But if it brought you two to my door, I cannot say that it was in vain. Already you have helped a great deal, Lady Vinet.”

  Vinet smiled. “I just wish we could have convinced the Council to sponsor you. The kingdom’s coffers are much larger than mine or Kamian’s, or both of ours combined!”

  Jimesseran shrugged again. “As you say, they have things to deal with. And I am already indebted to the Council for accepting Venia into your fold. My people would have starved to death otherwise.” He glanced up. “Might I ask a question of you two, humble commoner that I am?”

  Vinet laughed. “Of course!” she said. Kamian nodded as well.

  “Have you ever heard of Utgard? Or perhaps Utheim?”

  Vinet frowned and glanced at Kamian. He shook his head. “No, I haven’t. Are they places?” She said.

  Jimesseran nodded. “"Old sailors' tales, while most certainly exaggerated, though likely based in truth, speak of two cities of giants divided long ago by the angry sea. One city, Utheim sat in glory amidst the plains while the other, Utgard loomed as a fortress with mountains for walls. I've wanted to find these places since I was a young boy on my first voyage. This is my primary motivation for making a map of the northern coastline."

  Vinet exchanged a delighted glance with Kamian. “But that sounds fascinating!” she exclaimed. “Oh, I hope you can find the cities, or at least what happened to them. Are these sailor stories written down anywhere? I'd love to read them. Or if you'd like to visit me in Ninaeva, you can have free reign in my library in exchange for telling me stories of your travels and adventures."

  Kamian laughed at Vinet’s exuberance, but Jimesseran smiled sadly. “I'm afraid I must harbor my energy, Lady Vinet. This will be my last voyage." He looked down at his desk and began ruffling through the maps and papers splayed out on it. "No, they are not written down, I apologize. Hopefully my survey of the northern coast and, as your map suggests, the other coast where Utheim might be, will provide the foundation for further exploration. I cannot promise hard gold from this expedition, obviously."

  Vinet nodded. "I understand completely. My hope is that you will meet other peoples and cultures that we could trade with and learn from. I know you cannot promise that either, but that would be fascinating."

  Kamian tilted his head. “Are you retiring after this expedition, then, Jimesseran?”

  "I'm dying," he said.

  Vinet started at the cartographer at this blunt statement. He didn’t look a day over forty! She boiled over with questions, but she didn’t want to press him.

  After a moment, Jimesseran sighed. "I would love to meet the occupants of these cities. The legends speak of nephelm, the children of both giant and man through ancient ritual. What a sight they would be."

  “I… I hope you get to see them before…” Kamian’s voice trailed off.

  Vinet’s imagination was captured. The children of giant and man? What kind of creature would that be? “I wish I could go with you,” she stated.

  Jimesseran smiled. "I am certain you would be marvelous company. It will be a long voyage with only the company of Yderdochter and she, well...she doesn't like talking as much as I." He stood up and bowed. "Is there anything else, Lady Rochelle, Lord Silas?"

  So Yderdochter is going with him! That’s good. She proved herself on the last expedition, Vinet thought. The female dwarf had given the Council a fine report of the ruined city.

  He was giving her a hint. No doubt he had to conserve his energy and was politely, if vaguely, asking them to leave. She bowed in return, a mark of respect. Kamian gave her a startled glance but followed her example. Vinet said, "No, thank you. I wish you all the luck in your voyage, Jimesseran. You will be certain to receive a donation from me before you sail."

  “From me as well,” Kamian said.

  They were silent as they left the house. Vinet could not help feeling sad at the thought of Jimesseran. He seemed too full of life to die.

  Kamian seemed to be feeling the same solemnness. He bowed. “I will take my leave of you now, Lady Vinet. I hope to see you at the next Council session. Don’t forget to put in your vote for Lord of the Council before you leave the capital.”

  Vinet stopped in her tracks. She had forgotten completely about that. Had it really been a year since she’d taken her seat on the Council?

  “Who did you vote for?” she asked, to cover her confusion.

  “Who do you think?” Kamian smiled at her. “You.”

  **********

  “Lady Vinet! I had hoped to find you here.”

  Vinet turned, slightly irritated at being interrupted. She had just been about to enter the palace library and archives, in the hope that someone might have written information down about Cossack raiders. Kamian had refused to accompany her, insisting that she was far more suited to such scholarly pursuits than he was.

  Pellalindra, on the other hand, was not someone who struck her as a researcher, but also not as someone who would avoid responsibility.

  She managed a smile. “Good afternoon, Lady Pellalindra. Can I help you with something?”

  Pellalindra raised an eyebrow. “I do hope I’m not interrupting,” she said.

  Vinet shrugged. “I was just on my way to the archives. I was hoping that there was something on these Cossack raiders to tell us more about what we are facing.”

  “Oh!” Pellalindra’s expression brightened. “Then you are taking this seriously?”

  Vinet frowned. “While I may think that haring off when our Warden states so clearly the matter is under control shows little faith in our own men, I am not about to ignore something we’ve committed to just because I think it was a bad idea,” she said. She suppressed a wince. She shouldn’t have snapped like that.

  Pellalindra didn’t even blink. “I am glad of that, Lady Vinet. Perhaps I could help you?”

  “I don’t see why not,” Vinet said. She glanced at Pellalindra, puzzled. “Although I have never heard you had much inclination for sifting through books and reports.”

  Pellalindra smiled. “I do when the fate of the kingdom is at stake,” she said.

  Vinet shrugged, declining to mention her own suspicion that Darkmane wasn’t really a threat to the kingdom. Instead, she gestured for Pellalindra to precede her into the library.

  “What do you want?” a grouchy voice from behind a bookshelf greeted them as soon as they walked through the door.

  Vinet smiled. “Good afternoon, Jaysk,” she said. “It’s Lady Vinet. I was hoping you could point me in the right direction for a little research.”

  “Lady Vinet! Why didn’t you say so at once?”

  Vinet refrained from pointing out that she had. She smiled as the old man poked his head around the bookshelf. He looked as disheveled as he had when he’d shown her his private collection.

  “Well, what is it? Something magical i
n nature again? Or another map I can help you find? Quickly, I have my own research!”

  Vinet winced, wishing he hadn’t brought up magic in front of Pellalindra. She tried to keep her voice casual as she answered. “I need information on the Cossack raiders in the northeast, Jaysk. Do we have any reports on their activity?”

  Jaysk waved a hand and started rummaging the shelves. “Of course, of course. Dates? Times?”

  “Recently,” Vinet asked. “If there’s any mention of a leader called Darkmane?”

  The effect on Jaysk was remarkable. He stilled, the frown completely fading from his face. “This is what you interrupt me for?” he asked. It should have been an annoyed question, but his tone was curiously flat.

  Vinet nodded slowly. “Yes. Is there a problem?” she asked.

  “It’s a fairy tale,” Jaysk said. “A child’s nightmare story.”

  Before Vinet could say anything, Pellalindra interrupted. “There is nothing imaginary when a child’s finger is sent to the Council!” she exclaimed.

  Jaysk blinked. “A child’s finger?” He ignored Pellalindra entirely and directed his question to Vinet. “Encased in clear wax?”

  Vinet nodded.

  Jaysk closed his eyes. “Was the letter signed?”

  “Lord Artosbern, Warden of the Bern Forest,” Vinet said.

  “My condolences to his family,” Jaysk whispered.

  Vinet couldn’t stand the suspense. “Jaysk, what is it? What do you know?” she demanded.

  His eyes opened. “King Andreas III forbade this tale,” he said. “Though it is likely still told in peasant households. I always viewed it as a fairy tale, a story to frighten children.”

  Pellalindra’s nose wrinkled a little at the mention of peasant households. Vinet sent her a quelling look. They needed to hear what Jaysk had to say.

  “The Cossacks might also be using the legends to boost the fear their men inspire. But I hope you understand that most fairy tales and legends have their basis in reality.”

  Vinet nodded, almost feeling the mark of Manyu burning into her skin between her shoulders. She knew that better than most.

  “Whoever receives such a finger, and signs his name bearing such a message, is marked to die by Darkmane’s hand,” Jaysk said. “But there have only ever been forgeries, wax fingers. Has Lord Artosbern’s signature been verified?”

  Vinet frowned in confusion. “What are you saying? That if Lord Artosbern sent the message, he is going to die? That doesn’t make sense.”

  Jaysk shook his head. “No, no, no. Lord Artosbern would never send such a mutilation along with his letter. If it is not his signature, then he is in grave danger.”

  Pellalindra cleared her throat. “It hasn’t been verified,” she said slowly. “Lady Vinet, I had not a chance to tell you, but Lord Conn went to Lord General Torainn about it. His reaction was… distressing.”

  Vinet blinked. “I thought Lord General Torainn was in Venia.”

  Pellalindra nodded. “He’d just returned yesterday. Lord Conn apparently knows him from the Tigrian War. But… he nearly broke down at the mention of this Cossack and called him a…a revenant.” She stared at Jaysk. “Was he right?”

  Jaysk shook his head. “No, no…fairy tales and legends! That is all it is!” He looked around frantically and started scribbling something in a ledger.

  Vinet bit her lip. “Is there any of these legends you could show me?” she asked. Much as she hadn’t believed this was serious, she wasn’t about to not investigate it if both Jaysk and Lord General Torainn were reacting so strangely.

  Jaysk nodded. “I’ll find them and send them to you, Lady Vinet.” Without stopping for farewell, he disappeared back among the bookshelves.

  Pellalindra stared after him, clearly shocked. “The nerve!” she exclaimed. “To just leave!”

  Vinet had to stifle a laugh, despite the gravity of Jaysk’s news. “That’s just his way,” she explained. “He’s old enough to have earned that right.”

  Pellalindra shook her head in clear disapproval but said nothing.

  Vinet sighed. “He’ll send the reports to me when he’s ready, and not before. Are you heading anywhere now, Lady Pellalindra?” Inwardly, she hoped Pellalindra was returning home. She didn’t want to be polite to fellow councilors anymore.

  To her disappointment, however, Pellalindra just tilted her head to one side. “Would you join me in a stroll about the gardens, Lady Vinet? The flowers are beautiful this time of year.”

  There was no way to gracefully back out of it, so Vinet nodded. They walked in silence through the palace and into the gardens.

  The flowers were gorgeous, Vinet had to admit. Mazda’s Rise had dawned with full force, and the flowers were taking full advantage of the sunlight.

  “Have you cast your vote yet for Lord of the Council?” Pellalindra asked casually. Too casually.

  Vinet blinked. Ah. So, this was what this conversation was about.

  She shook her head noncommittally. She should have been thinking about this, true, but she’d had other things on her mind.

  Pellalindra smiled. “I have spoken to both Conn and Dannan, and they have announced their desire to vote for me.”

  Vinet blinked. She had not been expecting that. “Congratulations?” she asked.

  Pellalindra shook her head. “Neither our high priest or Kamian will vote for me. That leaves the deciding vote in your hands. I want to call in that vote you promised me.”

  Vinet caught her breath. She stopped and turned to stare at Pellalindra, crossing her arms over her chest. “And what did you promise them to get their votes?” she asked. “I owe you, yes, but if I vote for you on this, I give you twice the power for an entire year, while you’ve given me one vote. Hardly a fair exchange, you must admit.”

  Pellalindra’s lips tightened. “I am the only option that will not cause strife on the Council,” she said. “Everyone else is too firm in their own beliefs. I am at least willing to compromise. If you will not support me, I will let it be known you broke your promise and name you oath breaker.”

  Vinet stared at Pellalindra, her mouth nearly falling open. “That’s a little extreme!” she finally exclaimed. “Especially as I hadn’t declared one way or another yet!” She hardened her tone. “I promised you a vote for a vote for a decision, Lady Pellalindra, not for Lord of the Council!”

  Pellalindra waved her hand dismissively. “Will the others see it that way, I wonder?” she asked.

  Vinet narrowed her eyes. “And will they see it my way or your way, I wonder, when I tell them how manipulative you were in bringing this about? You still haven’t told me what you promised them.”

  Pellalindra hesitated, and Vinet felt a moment of satisfaction. It vanished quickly, however. Pellalindra’s threat was not to be taken lightly.

  “I promised them nothing more than I could offer,” she finally said.

  “As you will promise me,” Vinet said, pressing her advantage. “I vote for you, and you promise me to avoid potential war, and to seriously consider exploration. I do not think that too much to ask for the disparity of our votes!”

  Pellalindra’s jaw dropped. “Of course, I would avoid war!” she exclaimed. “I am not like Lord MacTir!”

  “You threatened to call me an oath breaker,” Vinet kept her voice low. “That is something Lord Conn would do. I would not have expected it of you.”

  “I did not threaten you, Lady Vinet,” Pellalindra said. “But you did promise me a vote. You do not get to decide how it is called in.”

  Vinet glared at her. “I did not expect to have to word my agreements with you as if I was dealing with fae creatures,” she said. She didn’t care how harsh she sounded. She was tired, angry, and had suffered too many disappointments already that day.

  Pellalindra straightened her shoulders. “You gave me a tool, Lady Vinet. I am merely using it.”

  Vinet nodded. “As I said, manipulative,” she said. “I will vote for you, but only if you g
ive me your word on the exploration.”

  Pellalindra hesitated. “As long as there are not situations that directly endanger the stability of the kingdom,” she said.

  That was all she was going to get, Vinet realized. She nodded shortly. “Then done,” she said. She turned to start walking away.

  “Lady Vinet…”

  She almost didn’t turn back, but the hesitation in Pellalindra’s voice made her pause. She looked over her shoulder.

  Pellalindra seemed uncertain, but she continued. “I am intending to host a ball in celebration if I am elected. Everyone on the Council will be invited, of course. Perhaps, if this is the case, you would like to arrive a few days early? I would like to meet your niece, and perhaps she would like to meet my son.”

  Vinet wanted to refuse. She really did. But that was her anger speaking, and it would not be wise to make an enemy out of Pellalindra. Besides, this was a peace offering, at least as Pellalindra knew to give them.

  She nodded slowly. “I will come,” she said and forced a smile. “Niara loves seeing new lands, and Duskryn is much farther south than she’s ever traveled.”

  Pellalindra looked relieved. “Then I look forward to welcoming you to Duskryn.”

  Vinet nodded, more courteously this time, and walked away.

  As soon as she was out of sight she leaned against a wall and clenched her hands into fists. Mazda’s light, she hated aristocracy and politics!

  Chapter 6: Masquerade

  “Remember what I told you.”

  Niara nodded. “Yes, Aunt Vinet.”

  Vinet bit her lip. She’d tried to teach her daughter how to properly greet nobility, how to talk, how to act, but…she glanced sideways at Gwyn.

  “Don’t ask me. I certainly don’t have any advice in this manner,” her faithful guard and friend declared with an amused glimmer in her eye and a shrug.

  Vinet sighed. Aside from the MacTir children, this was the first time Niara was going to meet any of the other nobility, even in an informal setting, and the MacTirs were hardly typical nobility. And meeting Lady Pellalindra and her son… she wasn’t certain Pellalindra was capable of being informal.