The Deceit of Tongues

by N M Zoltack

  “He said he might buy me something,” Maxene continued. “I told him he doesn’t have to, of course. He’s so sweet, though. Whenever I tell him he doesn’t have to do something, he doesn’t.”

  “And when you do ask?” Rase pressed.

  “Oh, I don’t think I ever have,” Maxene said. She held out her skirt and twirled her dress. “He had this made for me. It wasn’t premade, and it didn’t have to be resized. A sewer came to the house and took my measurements. This gown fits me and me alone! Isn’t it beautiful?”

  It was a lovely enough dress, Rase supposed. He wouldn’t really call it a gown, but then he didn’t really know what was the difference between a gown and a dress. A pretty blue color. No lace. A few beads along the neckline. That was it.

  But Maxene seemed happy, almost too happy. He didn’t think Maxene ever cared about her clothes before staying at the Snells. Even the way she was talking seemed different. It was almost as if she was trying to sound more like a noble instead of the peasant she was.

  “Do you know when you might be able to leave?” Rase asked.

  “I’m not sure.” Maxene shrugged and twirled again. Her feet stumbled, and when she righted herself again, she touched her head and closed her eyes. After a few deep breaths, she opened them again. “I still get dizzy spells,” she said. “The physician said they should be gone for a week before I can leave.”

  “How often do you have them yet?” Rase asked.

  “A few times.”

  “Every few days?”

  “Oh, no, every day.”

  “Oh.” Rase paused. “You’re going to be here for a long while yet.”

  “Yes indeed.” Maxene beamed and sat back down. “You should be going soon.”

  “Right. Can’t have the precious Lord Radcliff seeing me here.” Rase scowled and shuffled his feet. It didn’t escape his notice that Maxene, who was normally bare foot like Rase and Leanne, wore slippers.

  Maxene fluffed her pillow and said nothing. Had she already forgotten about him?

  Rase crossed back over to her. “Maxene, have you forgotten about someone?”

  “No,” Maxene said immediately.

  “Leanne,” Rase reminded her.

  “Leanne,” Maxene repeated slowly. Then she smiled. “I have so much to tell her!”

  “Do you want her to come visit?” Rase asked and then winced inwardly. He did not want his sister here.

  Maxene shook her head quickly, her face turning pale. “No, no. I don’t want her to see me like this.”

  “Of course,” Rase muttered, wondering if it was more that Maxene wanted to keep Lord Radcliff away from Leanne.

  Maxene brightened considerably. “I know! I’ll send a note to Leanne. How does that sound?”

  “Wonderful,” Rase said, but for some reason, he wasn’t entirely sure if he could trust Maxene.

  He awkwardly waved and climbed through the window. This time, he managed not to fall and landed on his feet. As he headed back home, he couldn’t help feeling sad. Sometimes, when Leanne had been in a good mood, the three of them would spend time together. He had always liked Maxene. She used to talk to him even if Leanne would sometimes ignore him. Maxene might’ve been Leanne’s friend, but Rase considered Maxene a friend too.

  All he could do was hope that Maxene knew what she was doing. Oh, and his pa too with his mysterious job.

  11

  Sir Edmund Hill

  By the time Edmund was risking being late for his duties, he remained there in the training field. Most of the bystanders had left. He rolled his shoulders, tweaked his neck this way and that, and headed toward the barracks. At this point, he might not even have time to break his fast.

  The sound of obnoxious laughter and harsh voices greeted Edmund as he approached the front door. He winced inwardly. For the most part, the other guards ignored him, but it seemed that day, he had gotten their attention.

  Jurian turned and narrowed his eyes at Edmund. The knight stiffened. Why would Jurian be treating him poorly?

  “He’s right here,” Jurian announced before stalking off.

  Confused, Edmund watched Jurian hurry away. If Edmund didn’t know better, he would think the guard was frightened. Nothing frightened Jurian.

  Except when Edmund would bring up the subject of the woman his brother Dudley was to marry. Tatum Whittemore was a female alchemist, and Jurian believed every last one of them should burn in dragon fire, as they had when the dragons three flew overhead. Edmund had been more than a little worried himself at first, but he had watched Tatum at work. She was good and kind, and Edmund hoped Dudley and Tatum would be very happy together.

  He hadn’t hoped to find Tatum here as the source of the commotion, but there she was, standing in front of the barrack, clearly waiting for him.

  Her steely blue eyes brightened when she saw him, and her chestnut-colored locks bounced on her shoulders as she marched over to him.

  Before she could say a word, Edmund grabbed her elbow and steered her over to the side. The crowd hadn’t dissipated any, and the comments about Tatum’s looks and what they wanted to do to her continued. It disgusted Edmund that some knights thought they could speak to a woman in such a way. Perhaps that was why they were merely guards.

  What, then, did that say about Edmund himself?

  Shaking his thoughts away, Edmund focused on his brother’s betrothed. “What is it?” he asked urgently. “Is something wrong? Has something happened to Dudley?”

  “Oh, no, nothing like that.” Tatum beamed. She always looked so happy whenever she spoke about her love.

  Edmund felt a pang in his chest. He had given up love for the sake of his shield, and for years, he had assumed he would never wed. It wasn’t until Edmund met Tatum, his brother’s future bride, that Edmund found himself reconsidering matters.

  “Dudley is fine, and he sends his love.”

  “That doesn’t sound like him,” Edmund grumbled.

  “I’m sure you’re wondering why I have come here, and it’s because I need your help. I… I don’t have anyone else to ask this of, and—”

  “Why can’t Dudley help you?” Edmund asked, more because he was curious than because he was looking to refuse her.

  “Because of what I wish to find. I would ask you to accompany me to fetch a rare herb for a potion. This is not just any potion, and I mean to give it to Dudley on our wedding night.” She bit her lower lip and blinked her large eyes up at him. She was not a short woman, but Edmund was tall for a man.

  “Where exactly are we to go to find this herb?” he asked.

  “That is the problem,” Tatum said softly. “It would require some time away from the barracks, and I do not know if you will be allowed to venture away for so long.”

  “Where exactly are we heading?”

  Her eyes glittered in the sunlight. “Stokeford Swamp.”

  Edmund almost smiled to hear that. Hadn’t he just been hoping to be reassigned to another locale? Yes, the swamps weren’t the most wondrous of locations, but still, it was a journey to reach the swamplands, and Edmund wished to see the world, and that included Stokeford Swamp.

  Truly, this could not have come at a better time. After all, it was possible that he would be told he could not have his post reassigned. The chance to accompany Tatum on her little quest at least gave him the chance to see more than just the boring city of Atlan day in and day out.

  “I must have some time to rearrange things,” Edmund said.

  “Oh, but of course. I never intended for us to go off this very moment.” She held out the skirt of her simple green dress with faint gold stitching along the collar and sleeves as well as a line around her waist and down to the bottom hem.

  Edmund nodded and rubbed his chin, musing. “We will need supplies and—”

  “I can gather most if not all. I… Thank you so much for this, Edmund. Normally, I would not mind rushing off and finding the herb myself, but—”

  “The swamps are said to be
dangerous.”

  “You’ve never been there before?”

  “No,” he admitted. “Is that an issue?”

  “Oh, no. I am merely surprised. I thought you might have seen a great deal more of the world than I have.”

  “Unfortunately, no,” he said glumly.

  Her lips fell into a perfect “O.” She shook her head sadly. “I did not mean to cause you great pain.”

  “I am not in pain,” he said stiffly, “great or otherwise.”

  Without warning, she seized his hand and ran her fingers along the lines on his palm. “I foresee a great deal of good things to come to you,” she said.

  “You can tell one’s future now?” he asked as he awkwardly pulled his hand away. He felt disquieted. Edmund did not like knowing just how soft the hands of his brother’s future wife felt.

  Tatum threw back her head and laughed. “Truly? No, but I sense… You will help to change the world. I fully believe that.”

  Edmund just shook his head. If he weren’t careful, he would start to think that she was going on about nothing but nonsense and begin to think ill of her again. That would never do if they were to travel for a week together, if not longer.

  “It can be said that all knights can help to change the world,” he said. “I am one of many.”

  “No, Edmund. That is where you are wrong. How many others have seen their dream come to reality? You rose up and achieved your dream. You are far more than merely the son of shoemakers.”

  “All I have is because I was able to procure a favor from a duke,” Edmund said. “Without that…”

  “I would like to hear that story one day,” Tatum said. “Perhaps on the way to the swamp.”

  Her gaze shifted over his shoulder, toward the barracks.

  “I will not keep you from your duties any longer. Thank you, Edmund. What you have given me is worth more than I can repay.” She squeezed his hand and sauntered away, walking leisurely, ignoring the cries from the few guards who remained outside the barrack’s door.

  Edmund watched her go. All he had given her was some time. It truly was not that much to ask.

  But as he made his way to the barracks to prepare to start his day, Edmund wondered if perhaps he had given her something more without intending to.

  12

  Princess Vivian Rivera

  For ten entire days and nights now, Vivian and Ulric had been travelling. She had given up asking him where he was taking her, but she could tell by the sun’s rising and setting that they were heading westward. Soon, they would hit the Olacic Mountains. Although they were called mountains, the range was more massive hills than even short mountains. The mountain range farther north, near Maloyan, was far more impressive in its height.

  Was Olac his destination? Or would they turn northward to Cilla? Did it matter?

  Perhaps it should matter. One day, Vivian planned on returning to Atlan. She had promised herself every night that she would return to her sister. By now, Noll would have been laid to rest within the mausoleum. Twice now, she had missed family funerals, first with the baby Bates and now with her brother Noll.

  Bates had not even been a blood relative. Her father’s second wife, Aldith, had cheated on him. Bates was the result of that unauthorized union, but Noll especially had loved him just the same. Vivian had too. The baby had brought her comfort and peace, both of which Vivian desperately needed at the moment.

  It was nighttime, and the stars twinkled down on her. The horse was quietly grazing nearby. Ulric was whittling some wood, or maybe he was sharpening his dagger. She wasn’t certain. The sound was soothing enough. Vivian knew she would sleep. Most likely, they had many more miles to go in the morning. One would not think riding horseback would be so tiring, but day after day, it truly was.

  But Vivian did not want to close her eyes. She could not help but begin to fear for her life. Death had touched her so many times recently, and she was so desperately afraid that her life would be claimed next. This sensation was worsened greatly by the return of her nightmares.

  Before the baby’s death, Vivian first began to dream of boats and storms and water and drowning. To avoid sleep, she had taken to rocking and soothing Bates. She had bonded with the babe then. Now, she had no distraction from her slumber, and her body was betraying her. Despite her desire to remain awake, her eyelids felt as if they weighed five-hundred pounds.

  Vivian shook her head violently to keep herself awake. She was convinced that one day, she would drown, and she did not wish to experience that through a dream at the moment. Still, sleep stole over her, and she slumbered.

  Darkness was all around her. Vivian lumbered to her feet, but the ground tilted and shifted beneath her, unsteady and uneven. She walked to the right and grabbed onto a railing.

  She was on a boat. Another nightmare. She knew, but she could not stop the dream. She could not stop the clouds from rolling in, stealing away the warm light of the sun. She could not keep at bay the wicked, vicious winds, and torrential rain drenched her within seconds. Her feet slipped from under her. The rain made the railing slippery. Unlike some other dreams, Vivian managed to maintain her grip, by wrapping her arms around the railing.

  Not that it mattered. The boat capsized in the storm. Vivian tried to hold her breath, but her lungs were already burning, and she could not find a way out from under the boat, and she could not tell if she was swimming toward the surface or toward the ocean floor, and she opened her mouth in her panic. Water flooded her mouth and down into her lungs, and she could not breathe. She struggled mightily, and then something grabbed onto her, jerking her, shaking her violently.

  “Vivian. Vivian! Wake up!”

  Vivian gasped and sat up with a start. Her forehead connected with Ulric’s nose, and the servant jerked back a few paces.

  “Are you all right?” he asked her.

  “Are you?” she asked, trying to steady her furiously racing heartbeat and also trying to keep him from noticing just how flustered the nightmare had made her.

  “What happened? You were whimpering.”

  “I don’t whimper,” she said crossly. “I was sleeping. Why did you wake me? It’s still nighttime.”

  Ulric pursed his lips, displeased and annoyed with her. The stars shone down on him enough to make those emotions as well as his frustration plain.

  “You were having a nightmare,” he said.

  “I was dreaming, yes. I was whimpering because I was so pleased that I had gotten rid of you!”

  He appraised her and shook his head. “You dream of me?”

  She flushed with embarrassment. At least it should be too dark for him to notice.

  “Only about killing you.”

  Ulric smirked. “So you say.”

  “Are you calling your princess a liar?”

  He glanced around suspiciously even though they had yet to see other travelers. They weren’t following the path, so they should be safe.

  “You shouldn’t call yourself that,” he said crossly.

  “Regardless,” she said, lifting her chin into the air.

  “Sleep more or not. Your choice. We leave at first light.”

  “‘We leave at first light,’” she mocked. “We leave at first light every morning. I know already.”

  “Well, then, you know you need to sleep.”

  “Yes, yes,” she grumbled.

  Thankfully, this time, she rested without any more nightmares. For once, Ulric had fallen asleep. Since they had left, she had not seen the man rest much at all. That he had taken her under his wing still bothered her, but that was most because she wished she had never left Atlan. Then again, if the murderer truly was going after Riveras, the guards would now all worry about protecting Rosalynne instead of being split between her and her sister. Vivian surely did not want anything to happen to Rosalynne.

  It’s only the two of us now.

  Vivian debated allowing Ulric to sleep and then stood and kicked his boot.

  “Come on,�
� she said crossly. “Let’s get going.”

  Without a word of complaint, Ulric stood and gathered their horse. Vivian climbed up and then Ulric did.

  “You know,” he said casually, “we both would have more room if you sat with a leg on either side of the horse.”

  “My skirt would get in the way,” she protested.

  “We could rip it,” he suggested.

  “Because that would be ideal,” she retorted. “Let’s keep on keeping on.”

  Ulric sighed and complied.

  By the time the sun was directly above them, Vivian was starving, but she knew better than to complain. Once she spied a berry bush, she would force him to stop. Until then, there was no point in griping.

  For the first time since they left Atlan, Vivian finally spied a small village in the near distance an hour later. She sat up tall, doing her best to suppress her excitement.

  “I take it you want to stop here,” Ulric said dryly.

  “I do,” she said, still cautious.

  “I only have many enough coins for one meal for us both,” he warned. “Do you really want to use it up here?”

  Vivian licked her lips. “Yes.”

  He sighed. “As you desire, Princess.”

  “I thought you weren’t going to call me that.” She twisted around to glare at him. He couldn’t dare risk saying that in the village.

  Ulric grinned and winked at her. “You’re acting like one, though.”

  “Harrumph.” She turned back around.

  It did not take long for them to reach the village, and immediately to the right was the town tavern. Ulric tied their horse to a post, and they walked inside.

  Vivian glanced all around. She had never been to a tavern back in Atlan. She hadn’t a reason to. If she wished to have ale or wine, she could have some at the castle. Likewise with food.

  The stank of smoke, food, and alcohol lingered in the air, along with unwashed bodies. Vivian wrinkled her nose.

  “Go on,” Ulric murmured in her ear.