by Kirby Crow
“As you wish.” Alexyin gave orders to one his Sul guards and sat back down. “Good to be out,” he said, a bit awkwardly. He gave Liall a curious glance.
“I’ve never told how it was for me in those years,” Liall ventured. “In the Southern Continent, after my exile.”
Alexyin cleared his throat. “I have wondered, sire. I didn’t want to ask, in case the memory pained you.”
“The only memories that pain me are why I was exiled, and how, not for what followed. Not anymore, at least. I was very young, and I was very alone. I made many mistakes in my first months in a new land, trusted people I shouldn’t have, and suffered the consequences for it. Once my gold ran out, I realized that I had no skills that would allow me to earn my bread among common people. I knew no trade, had no tools. The Morturii speak a difficult tongue called Falx and I could not comprehend it, nor could I find a teacher. I couldn’t sail or farm or hammer a horseshoe.”
“That’s grievous for me to hear.”
“I know, but I’m telling you so you’ll understand; I would not be alive right now if not for the kindness I found in Byzantur, from those very people you call enemies. I couldn’t speak Falx or Taluk, but I could speak Bizye perfectly. That meant that the only people I could turn to were the very ones I had been brought up to believe were evil sorcerers who wished us nothing but ill. I went south, to the great Hilurin city of Rusa. It is not like other cities in the realm. Many cruelties that are common in Kalaslyn are forbidden in Rusa, and that is solely because the Hilurin rule there. It is, perhaps, the last place in Kalaslyn that they have power, and that will not last.” He sighed ruefully. “It’s true that I have not always admired them for their gentle nature. What has kindness ever gained them? Every Hilurin village outside city walls serves as prey to thieves, outlaws, and even their own soldiers. They’re cheated, harassed, beaten, and in the worst cases, tortured and murdered for no crime other than being born Hilurin. Even the Aralyrin, who share their blood, scorn them as weak fools, and take whatever they can from them.”
“Then it would seem the accusation of foolishness is not unfounded,” Alexyin said callously. “You spoke of natures, my lord. The world devours the weak.”
“Then the world should not be so,” Liall snapped. Most of the rangers had moved away from the fire, leaving them alone with only a few guards close by. “Beasts need prey to live, it is true. We are not mere beasts. We are more than that, and the Hilurin are more than that. I never knew the value of their nature until I had need of it. Do not scorn a gentle heart, Alexyin. Despite how badly he has often been treated here, Scarlet has held no grudges. He has been more than willing to forgive and to offer his friendship. It takes more strength to extend a hand to those who despise you than it does to strike a blow. Scarlet knows that living in Rshan will never be easy for him.”
Alexyin looked away. The firelight illuminated the lines of his chin set in stubborn lines. “One wonders why you continue to ask it of him, then.”
“Because I’m a selfish bastard. I love him and I want him with me. I want that more than I want to be king, Alexyin. That’s the heart of your grudge, isn’t it? That the kingdom you love and the royal line you so revere has no hold over me, such as it may have had over Cestimir or Vladei.” Liall snorted. “Take a wife or they’ll take my throne? Let them. They can have it with my blessings.”
Alexyin stared at him in open shock, but Liall could not find it in him to regret his words. It all should have been said months ago.
“I did not come home to be king,” Liall said, low and urgent. “You know this. I came back to see my mother and my brother and to offer what service I could to them. Being offered the throne was never part of the bargain, but I accepted it because I knew that was what Cestimir wanted. Even in the short time I knew him, I could see he loathed the prospect of his future, and feared it.”
“Cestimir would have been a good king.”
“He would not,” Liall answered tiredly. “Gods below, man, the boy died like a sheep. He stuck his neck out for the sword without raising a hand in his defense. Have you never considered that Cestimir planned his own capture? A sleigh ride in the country with only a single guard for protection, with every power-hungry lord in the realm present at the palace? Not to mention Vladei openly challenging him for the throne; a prince every bit as royal as he, older, wiser and ten times as ruthless. In the midst of all that, Cestimir decided to put himself at risk, and not alone.” Liall’s jaw clenched. “He took Scarlet with him. Was there ever any wonder what I would do if Scarlet came to harm at Vladei’s hands? Whatever else he was, Cestimir was no fool. He was a better student than I was, true?”
“Far better,” Alexyin murmured, his eyes distant, as if coming to terms with a thing he wrestled with. “Especially in sums. He did not even need to use paper, calculated it all in his head.”
“As he calculated his death. Simply dying wouldn’t be enough, you see. Vladei’s claim to the throne was strong. He was popular and had many supporters. Cestimir needed to give me a reason to oppose him. If Scarlet had died that day, I would have killed Vladei for it. If he lived, then Vladei had insulted me mortally by kidnapping my t’aishka, and I still would have killed him. Either way, Cestimir would not have to be king and Vladei would be dead.”
“You forget Melev’s part in it.”
“None of us saw that coming. How could Cestimir?”
Alexyin closed his eyes and bowed his head. “Is this my doing? Am I to blame for my poor prince’s death?”
Liall felt a stab of pity. He touched Alexyin’s shoulder. “Perhaps in time, Cestimir would have found the strength to be the kind of man you hoped for, but the odds are that Ressilka and her father would have been the true rulers of Rshan, if civil war hadn’t broken out the instant the coronation bells rang. If you must lay blame somewhere, then put it on me. Everything would have been different if Nadei had lived.”
Alexyin turned a cold look on him. “That is true, sire.”
Well, you told him to blame you. But it pained Liall all the same. He took his hand away. “You should rest, old friend,” he said by way of dismissal. “Take sleep while you can. The days ahead will be hard.”
“My lord,” Alexyin said. He stood, bowed, and strode away.
The campfire crackled and sent up a plume of glittering embers as Liall watched Alexyin’s retreat. Blunt truth is a perilous tool, one not used lightly. His intent had been to bleed the wounds left by Cestimir’s murder, drain the poison of suspicion and direct Alexyin’s anger away from Scarlet.
Have I succeeded? Liall wondered, staring into the flames. Or had he just made everything worse?
Deception
SCARLET BROKE his fast with Jochi and spent the morning in the solar with him, drinking che and practicing his Sinha. His vocabulary was up to several hundred words but putting them together in the right order was the hard part.
“The baroness has quit the city, did you hear?” Jochi said casually in Sinha, his che cup to his lips. “Gone back to Uzna-Minor with the tide. Aboard a razka kul, no less.”
Shikhoza again. I’ve barely arrived in Sul and already I’m sick of hearing her name. Bad enough that he had lied to Liall, now must he lie to Jochi, too?
He hadn’t lied to Liall, though. Not really. He just hadn’t told him anything about the meeting with Shikhoza, which was as good as lying. Even worse, because Liall had obviously suspected something and refused to ask.
Scarlet sighed and struggled several times with his reply in Sinha before giving it up and switching to Bizye. “Isn’t that a warship?”
Jochi nodded and replied in kind. “With rough accommodations, as suits a military vessel. Very unsuitable for a baroness. She could have waited a day for a better berth. One might think she was in a hurry to leave. Her last meeting with the king was fraught, I hear.” He gave Scarlet an inquisitive look.
Scarlet tensed, expecting Jochi to question him. “Was it? You hear an awful lot.”
&
nbsp; Jochi shrugged. “It comes with being a Setna. One listens, but one cannot act. What we know, we cannot tell. We bide and we watch, and when we are called for, we aid the crown.”
“What about the people? Do you aid them, too?”
“Aiding the crown is aiding the people. There is no Rshan without the throne.”
Scarlet traced his finger on the edge of his cup. It was fine porcelain painted with gold. “The throne, or Liall’s family?” When he looked up, he saw Jochi gazing at him with a look of admiration.
“You sense it, don’t you?” Jochi asked. “The connection between the king and our past? The reverence my people have for the blood of Camira-Druz?”
“When I was in the palace with the Ancient in the room, with Liall and....and Melev.” Scarlet stumbled over the name, unwilling even to speak it. His memories of Cestimir’s death at the ruins and his own ordeal at Melev’s hands were still too raw. “I felt something happening. I thought it was just the healing withy Melev cast, but it was more. Somehow, Liall is part of them. Cestimir was, too.” He swallowed hard and did not name Alexyin and Tesk, who gave him the same strange feeling. “And so is she.”
Jochi let a moment pass. “Lady Ressilka?”
Scarlet nodded wordlessly, his heart aching.
Jochi rose from his chair and patted Scarlet on the shoulder. “I am a cousin of the king, but I am not descended of Lyran, as he is. Now you know why the Setna favor the match. We cannot lose the bloodline that connects our race to the Ancients, and through them to the Shining Ones. Whatever happens, the Camira-Druz must continue.”
Scarlet shook his head. “Isn’t there anyone else he could marry?” Why does she have to be so young and pretty?
Jochi was silent.
Scarlet looked away. “Of course. What you know, you can’t tell.”
“Unless the king asks,” Jochi said carefully.
WHEN SCARLET LEFT THE solar and returned alone to his rooms, all hell broke loose.
Jochi came running at the noise, Margun close at his heels. The door banged open as Scarlet stood holding Liall’s shirt in his hand and cursing Chos roundly in gutter Falx. Though taller and stronger, Chos’s head was down, his hands folded meekly as Scarlet railed at him.
When Jochi saw the problem, he dismissed Chos with a spate of cold words in Sinha. Margun left with a smirk on his face, and Scarlet slammed the door after them.
“Why is Chos here?” Scarlet demanded rudely.
“A king cannot travel without servants, ser,” Jochi said.
“I know that. I'm not daft, for Deva's sake. How long have I been living here? I know your people's customs by now. I mean why him so particularly?” He pointed at the door he’d slammed. He hoped Chos’s ears would burn all day, and wished he knew more curse words in Sinha.
Jochi gave him a pained look. “Ser, Nenos was in charge of forming the king’s retinue.”
“I’m un-forming it. Re-forming it. Something.” Scarlet threw his hands up, the shirt he held flapping like a wing. “Gods damn it, I know you can find another servant.”
“Very easily,” Jochi admitted. “But as the king left his House Marus behind, I cannot tamper with the king’s household without consulting the king himself. What shall I tell him?”
“That Chos is a prick!” Scarlet stormed. He kicked a chest and sank down onto a chair. “A sneaky prick at that.” He crossed his arms, still fuming. “I know what I saw.”
“Whatever Chos feels, surely it’s his burden and not yours?” Jochi suggested delicately.
“It’s my fucking burden when I find him pawing and nosing at Liall’s clothes like a cur scenting a bitch in heat,” he snarled. “Randy whoreson git.” He tossed the shirt onto the bed. He could still see the scene in his mind: opening the door, surprising Chos in the act, Chos’s eyes closed in an expression of ecstasy as he pressed his face to Liall’s shirt.
Margun and Jochi knew what had happened, too. Somehow, that made it worse.
Jochi flipped a length of his silver hair away from his shoulder “I thought Hilurin did not use those words.”
“Oh, shut up,” Scarlet grumbled.
“There’s no doubt that Chos acted improperly. If you want to dismiss him yourself, you can. You have that right.”
“And then I’d have to tell Liall why.” Scarlet sighed heavily. “This wouldn’t be so bad if the servants weren’t so damned close to us. They see everything, Jochi. I feel like a fish in a wine glass. Nowhere to hide.”
A knock came at the door. Margun entered and bowed. “Ser.”
Scarlet pinned Margun with a stare and looked him up and down, still angry about that smirk. Let's see what kind of man he is. “Can you fight with that thing?” he pointed to the sword at Margun’s hip.
“Of course.”
“Fight like a warrior?”
“Is there another way, my lord?”
“There are all kinds of ways. Don't play coy. If you're going to take Jochi’s place, then know that I don't like fork-tongued men who answer me with a question instead of saying what they really mean.” Once the words were out, Scarlet damned himself for his ill-temper. Margun wasn’t to blame for Chos.
Margun’s shoulders squared and he gave the door a sideways glance, as if he wished he could escape again. He reminded Scarlet of Annaya’s old tomcat. The tom had been a fierce mouser and the bane of all other male cats in the village, but he would fold his ears flat and hunch down passively while the dam of his kittens boxed his ears with her claws.
Scarlet was on the verge of apologizing again when Margun chuckled.
“A fine speech,” Margun said. “I’m pleased you don’t care for fork-tongues, probably in the same way that I don't care for boys who make a game out of being rude. Not a very bright game at that.”
Jochi gaped at the man. Scarlet, after a moment of staring and wondering whether to hurl a che pot at Margun’s head or just throw him out, laughed out loud. Nothing meek about ser Margun's words, at least!
“So I'm not bright, am I?”
“You could show better sense than to insult the man who’s been hired to guard your back.”
Hired? He wondered how much Liall had paid. Scarlet hadn't seen coin in so long that he'd almost forgotten that one needed it to get by. “Well, I hope Liall pays you well, because I don't have any money and I need to buy some boots.” He had plenty of boots. He had been outfitted quite well at the Nauhinir, but he and Margun both knew it had nothing to do with his wardrobe. It was almost noon, and it would take time to get down to the docks from the Bleakwatch.
“I can send for a man to fit you, ser,” Jochi began, but Scarlet rose from his chair and waved him off.
“No, I want to buy them myself. I can't wait days for a cobbler to finish them to my size. My feet are cold today. I'm sure we can find something in the shops by the water.”
Jochi looked uncomfortable. “I don’t think the king would care for you to go near the docks. It is not a part of the city I'd be comfortable taking you into.”
Scarlet slung a red jacket over his shoulders and turned to the door. “Then stay here.”
Jochi deftly slid his body between Scarlet and the door. “You put me in a difficult position, ser.”
Scarlet buttoned his jacket and slipped the heavy belt with his twin long-knives about his waist, buckling it low on his hips. “Because you've been ordered to keep me in here?”
“Because I've been ordered to obey you in all reasonable things. What you wish to do is unreasonable and yet you mean to disobey me—”
“Disobey?” Scarlet's eyes narrowed. “That's the wrong word to use with me.”
“I misspoke, of course.” Jochi gave Margun a pleading look. “Surely you do not approve of this?”
“It’s not his decision,” Scarlet said.
When Scarlet took a step forward, Jochi gave way and put his back to the door. “Ser, please. There are common men at the docks who have never seen a Hilurin. This is not wise.”
; “It may not bloody be wise, but I'm going anyway. I'm not going to start any fights or even speak to anyone besides the boot-maker. If your people make trouble for me, then it's on their heads, not mine. All I want is a quiet morning, and maybe to catch a look at the sea again.” He blew out a frustrated breath. Yes, the boots were a ruse, but Jochi didn’t know that! “Rshani men and women are not children, Jochi,” he said. “I won't be held responsible for their bad fucking manners, and I won't be kept prisoner by their lack of control. If they're really such blasted children, then send for more guards. I think Liall can spare them.”
Jochi stood staring and speechless, and even Scarlet was shocked at how he'd dared to speak out finally. But it's all true, he thought resentfully. It's not my fault for being born Hilurin. I'm not ashamed of who I am, and I won't be bullied for how I look any longer. I won't hide from them.
“This is my home now,” Scarlet said steadily. “You said so yourself. The king said so. You all keep telling me that I'm part of the royal family, that the Rshani are my people. If it's my damned home and my damned people, then they had better learn not to throw rocks at the sight of my face. Now is as good a time as any.”
Margun nodded as if the matter were settled. Jochi moved aside and Margun opened the door. “Kuran!” he yelled. There followed a spate of orders in Sinha. “I have sent for your guard, ser. We will have men who know how to deal with harbor louts and mariners, and who won't hesitate to begin cracking skulls if there’s trouble.”
“There will be mariners at the docks,” Jochi warned.
“Four months aboard a brigantine has taught me all I’ll ever need to know about mariners,” Scarlet replied. “Including that some are rapists and would gladly slit my throat with as little thought as gutting an eel.”
“If you are resolved to do this foolish thing,” Jochi said, “then be aware there may be blood to pay for it. Mariners, citizens, women... your guards won’t care. If at any time they believe your life is in danger, they will act. They will cut them down.”