Respectant

by Florian Armaselu

  “Do you trust her?”

  “She is Reymont’s spy, but she is not as bad as him. She helped me, I don’t know yet why.”

  “While you bathe, I have to leave you alone with her. There are no women in my troop, but I will place two guards at your door.”

  “I will survive. What happened to Ferko?”

  “He is dead.”

  Cleyre nodded, and there was neither anger nor satisfaction in her face. “And...?” She did not finish her question on.

  “Veres is in chains. I wish I could hang him, but his mother is the woman who sheltered me when I first arrived in Frankis. I can’t execute him without at least talking to her. I am sorry.”

  “I don’t like to kill people, but I don’t want to see him again. The memory is quite enough,” she whispered.

  There was a knock at the door, and a soldier entered. “The old woman is making noise in her room,” the soldier said. “She wants to bring Lady Cleyre her potion.”

  Let her come, Codrin gestured, then turned to Cleyre. “Maro read my thoughts about food.”

  “She’s not bringing food. It’s a special potion. The last thing I want is to have Snail’s child.”

  “I did not know about such things.”

  “Why should you? As far I know, men don’t get pregnant.” Cleyre laughed yet, later, Codrin got the recipe from the old woman. Like any trained Assassin, he was also a healer who understood that any concoction could help someone, sometime.

  Maro was content to give him the recipe for the Bloody Moon potion. She had seen how Veres, who was a large man, looked when the soldiers dragged him out of Cleyre’s room. She feared a man who could do that so easily, even with a wounded arm; he looked strong in a way that she had not seen in anyone before. She had seen many things in her sixty-two years, and Peyris did not lack tough fighters. Why does he need the Bloody Moon? she wondered when Codrin left her alone. Maybe he has more mistresses. Does Cleyre know? She has had other lovers in the past. Perhaps she will not marry him. He seems to be a man of power. Maro asked Cleyre his name, but she got no answer. He looks like a southerner. A Knight? A Seigneur? Patience, Maro. Patience.

  Properly dressed after her bath and breakfast, Cleyre looked like her former self again. Almost. She was thinner, her face was still swollen, and she still felt weak; there was pain everywhere in her body, and her dark red dress contrasted with the pallor of her face and her blonde hair. Her left arm was tied in a sling, but she felt alive again. Nicolas was the first to visit her room after her transformation.

  “Oh, now this is my Cleyre,” he smiled, forcing himself to ignore her bluish, swollen face.

  “Thank you, for saving me, Nicolas. I am glad that there still are people who will not betray me.”

  “There are more than you think now. And less than I’d hoped. But it was Tudor who saved you. He had both the men and the right mindset to take the Eagle’s Nest. I would have never thought to bribe the guards with a barrel of good wine from Tolosa. Of course he is a Wraith, but he seems more than that too.”

  “That is how you got in?” Cleyre smiled. It pained her, but the sparkle in her eyes made her look almost healed. “Yes, he is a resourceful man,” she said prudently, remembering Codrin’s wish to keep his two identities separate.

  “What do you want to do now?”

  “To claim the Duchy. It will not be easy, and there is no guarantee that I will succeed. Anyone who helps me might come to a bad end.” She paused and looked away through the window, to let Nicolas make up his mind.

  “I am with you, and I can bring between six and seven hundred soldiers. They will not be enough,” he sighed.

  “Thank you,” Cleyre said and placed her hand over his. “Beginnings are always hard, but I have seven hundred more soldiers than I had yesterday, when I had none. And one fewer chains.” Involuntarily, she glanced at her foot. She shook her head, and forced herself to suppress the awful memory.

  Thoughtfully, Nicolas looked at her. “There is something I need to talk to you about. It will not be an easy subject.” He paused for a while, to find his words, and she waited. “It’s about Tudor. He is a strong man and it seems... It seems that there is a relationship between you two. But he has less strength than you need now. Would you consider marriage to Codrin? If he is with us, Peyris will be yours sooner than you think. And he would make a redoubtable Duke; no one will dare to attack us. In a dangerous world, strong alliances matter more than our feelings. And as we all know, Codrin is a man of quality.”

  “You think that Codrin would agree to marriage. With me.”

  “Why not? Cleyre, you are a desirable woman, beautiful and intelligent and, in a year, you can bring him four thousand soldiers, and a much stronger power base than he has now. Both of you have strength and, together, you can dream of more. Frankis is still without a King.”

  “We shall see...” she said and stopped, as Codrin entered her room.

  “I have to leave.” Nicolas stood up, nodded discreetly to encourage her, and left them alone.

  Codrin seated himself in the free chair and fixed her with an appreciative look. “You are quite a sight in that dress. Until now I always seem to see you in riding costumes.”

  “Or almost naked in a torn shift,” Cleyre laughed.

  “You are a sight for sore eyes, no matter how you are dressed. Nicolas seemed a bit ... strange.”

  “He is uneasy about the future, like all of us are. He also thinks that I should claim the Duchy, even though our army is still small.”

  “How small?”

  “He can bring six to seven hundred soldiers.”

  “That would make almost one thousand five hundred, if I add my men.”

  “Have you decided to help me?”

  “Yes. We have been helping each other for some time, already. I don’t see why we should not continue.”

  “Thank you, Codrin. If you want to go further, Peyris will be behind you. If it’s up to me,” she added.

  “Did you have a Vision?”

  “A brief Vision. You were talking about the kingdom, but I am not really sure what you meant.”

  “I hoped for a clue from you,” Codrin said, rubbing his chin. “I get the impression that Fate teases me with the Visions she sends. Like she is trying to put me on a different course. I really don’t know.”

  “By seeing into the future, we have a great advantage compared to most people, but you are right, sometimes a Vision decides our next step, and who knows how it came to us? Or why. Would you consider telling Nicolas about Codrin?”

  “His army changes my plans. I can’t hide from him anymore, if we are to talk about battles and taking Peyris. Do you feel well enough to leave tomorrow, in a carriage?” He looked at Cleyre, who nodded. “Good. I will get Nicolas and Vlad.”

  “It seems that we all agree that Peyris needs a new Duchess,” Codrin said when they gathered. He was sitting at the table with Cleyre, while Nicolas and Vlad sat on the edge of the bed.

  Nicolas frowned when he saw Codrin sat in the chair he thought was his to take, but he said nothing. I was expecting Cleyre to lead the discussion. “Let’s see if we agree on the means too,” he said, looking at both Cleyre and Codrin. She can’t tell him right now, but I hope that she took into account what I said about her marriage. And I can’t let Tudor lead this. It may create problems later.

  He is rattled by something, Codrin thought, and his eyes strayed around the room, registering both Cleyre and Nicolas. I think that she knows what it is. “Cleyre told me that you can bring six to seven hundred soldiers.”

  “Yes. We will make our plans starting with her soldiers. The best course of...”

  “I can bring eight hundred more,” Codrin cut in. “That will be enough to defeat any army Albert can gather. It may not be enough to take Peyris, though. We need help from inside.”

  “Eight hundred...” Nicolas said, staring at him through narrowed eyes. Unconsciously, he rubbed at his own temple, as though Codrin�
��s words were giving him a headache. “How can a Wraith have eight hundred soldiers?”

  “They don’t belong to the Wraith; they belong to the other me, Codrin.”

  “What do you mean?” Nicolas asked, then blew out a deep breath. He understood well Codrin’s words, but his mind was not yet prepared to comprehend it.

  “Nicolas,” Cleyre said gently, “Codrin and Tudor are the same person, and there are only a few people who know about his twin identities. You are one of them now. He was forced to play this game. Things have changed lately, and Tudor will soon vanish.”

  Nicolas exhaled suddenly. “You knew...”

  “Yes, and I am sorry for misleading you, but this was not my tale to tell. Codrin’s life depended on secrecy. And my life depended on him.”

  “Well...” Nicolas shrugged, “I guess that I have to get used with that.” And I don’t have to worry about her marriage anymore. Codrin will be the next Duke of Peyris. Damn, if he will not be the next King too.

  “It should not be hard,” Codrin smiled. “Tudor and Codrin look quite similar.”

  “Well,” Nicolas repeated, “I suppose you already have a plan.”

  “Not exactly. We must rely on information you can provide. It would be preferable to take your capital without a fight. That would make it easier to unify the Duchy. In times like these, there will be factional thinking, and it will be helped from outside. Don’t forget the Circle either.”

  “What do you mean by taking it without a fight? They will not give the Duchy...” Nicolas protested, still unable to consider Tudor as Codrin and their leader.

  “We will do some chest beating, parading the army to scare Albert and some of his vassals. There are always people who wait until the last moment before joining a party. And Albert is not exactly a fighter, so we might not meet on the battlefield. Parading our army may help some of his people join the undecided, and some of the undecided to join Cleyre. Taking the city would be a different matter, and that will be mostly your action, but one step can bring the other.”

  “How long this will take?”

  “The longer the better, but I don’t think that we can afford more than three or four weeks. We are past the equinox, and winter is coming. Bad weather may come even earlier.”

  “Where will your army join us?”

  “It will not join you, exactly, but I will give you a hundred mercenaries led by the Black Dervil of Tolosa. The moment they learn about my presence here, the Circle will act. We don’t want that. Loxburg, Orban and all the Seigneurs around Peyris will be persuaded to join Albert and attack us. Together, they can bring more than five thousand soldiers. Our best chance is to keep this as an internal issue for Peyris, Cleyre against Albert, and even then some may try to interfere. We will follow you through the forest but stay hidden. You will parade your army south of Peyris, through the roads that pass close to large forests. We will join you in battle, if there is one, but I hope to avoid that.”

  “This is only a preliminary phase,” Cleyre said and stood up. Struggling to gather her thoughts, she tried to walk around the table, but the room was too small, and she returned to her place. “If I am right, you hope to drive Albert out of Peyris.”

  “Albert, or most of his army. Everybody considers him weak, and if he stays there and hides, many will think to join you. He must do something. Reymont will act, in the end. Of course, they may surprise us and do nothing, and then we have to decide how to take Peyris.”

  “I don’t think you can bribe the guards at the gate with a barrel of good wine from Tolosa,” Cleyre said, amused, but there was a note of hope in her voice.

  “No,” Codrin laughed, “Peyris is not a small fortress built in a forgotten place. I think Nicolas knows better what your guards at the gates might do.”

  “Costa,” Nicolas said, abruptly, and a moment of silence filled the room. Cleyre began to say something, and thought better of it. Codrin did not speak either. “With some luck, he might be able to open the gate for us.”

  “I don’t like to depend on luck, and I don’t want to expose Costa in such a desperate act.” Cleyre closed her eyes for a few moments, trying to visualize the western gate. It looked so imposing and impenetrable, though it was the smallest in the city.

  “Nobody likes it. How many soldiers are guarding the gates?” Codrin asked. “Let’s say the western gate, which is the smallest,” he added.

  “Twenty-five, whatever the size of the gate. If there is an emergency, the number can grow to fifty. And there is always a captain to lead them.”

  “Costa.” Codrin looked at Nicolas.

  “When I left Peyris, he was no longer allowed to command a gate. They thought him too close to Cleyre.”

  “You had something in mind, though, when you mentioned him.”

  “An attack against the gate from inside, like we did it after we got in here.”

  “Does Costa have enough men?” Vlad joined in for the first time.

  “He has his own company, but how many of them will join in a fight against the Duke, I don’t know.” Nicolas turned his palms out; he had nothing more to add.

  “Vlad is right, we need to find out, and if necessary, we need to sneak people inside, to help him take the gate,” Codrin said. “We will leave tomorrow, but first I have something unpleasant to do.” He nodded at Vlad, who went out and returned a moment later. “They will bring Veres here,” Codrin said, looking at Cleyre, and she flinched, but said nothing. You need this, Cleyre.

  Ten minutes later, two soldiers brought in the prisoner. He was chained; his face was swollen, and no one had washed the blood from him. Supported by two tall Mountes, Veres, who was a large man too, looked like a crumpled doll.

  “Bring him here,” Codrin pointed at the middle of the room, and the soldiers dragged him over. “Snail, you always had a disturbed mind, but now you have gone lower than I thought possible, even for you.”

  “I am under the protection of the Candidate King and the Master Sage,” Veres said. “I demand to be freed.”

  “Ask them to free you, then. Maybe I should hang you.” His voice flat, Codrin looked at Veres, in the indifferent way one looks at the worm in the grass.

  “That would be a good idea,” Nicolas said.

  “You can’t do that,” Veres breathed. “Bucur will hang you too.”

  “Aron and Bucur killed an Itinerant Sage, and they have more pressing issues now than helping their adopted fool. You are less than a common thief. Cleyre, what should I do with him?” Codrin looked at her this time, his eyes no longer indifferent but warm and heartening. You need this, Cleyre.

  “He is an animal.” She struggled to keep her voice under control, and even harder to look at Veres. Jaw clenched, she repressed a burst of evil memories, and turned a tough stare upon him, so that he nearly recoiled.

  “See, Veres? No one gives a damn about you. Beg her for your life, or I will hang you.”

  “Please Cleyre,” Veres sobbed. The soldiers let his arms free, and he fell on his knees.

  “Take the snail out. He makes me vomit,” Cleyre said.

  “Vlad, you know what to do. He will stay chained all the time, on the road to Severin and in the jail there. He will be treated like any other robber or rapist.”

  “I still think that hanging him would be better,” Nicolas said, as the soldiers dragged Veres out of the room.

  “I know his mother, and she is a fine woman. It’s only because of her that I have let him live.”

  “You seem to be close to many people in high positions.”

  “Sometimes it’s my luck to know them, sometimes is their luck to know me.”

  Alone again with Cleyre, Codrin kissed her hand. “I know that upset you, but I thought it was necessary.”

  “I have mixed feelings right now, but some of my pain vanished when I saw him kneeling at my feet. The pain inside.” Cleyre patted her chest. “Does that make me an evil woman?” She shrugged at her own question, one which did not require
an answer from Codrin. “Some medicine is bitter.” Her thumb played over his fingers, in a tacit mark of agreement. “And I hear that you are a good healer. Maro told me that.”

  “What should we do with her?”

  “We will keep her until I am able to find a maid. Then we will free her. Or maybe I will keep her. I will see. She is a strange woman. Intelligent.”

  Damian’s wound stopped him fighting for a month, but did not stop him riding. He was sent with five men to Severin, where he would become Ban’s deputy, during Vlaicu’s absence. Veres was with him, chained on his horse, and they met Vlaicu halfway to Severin.

  “Snail,” Vlaicu spat, glaring at him. “Good that you caught him. He has to pay for Mohor’s death.”

  “He has to pay for more, now.” Damian’s lips drew back in a sort of grin, the one that usually comes from tasting rotten food.

  “There was some fighting.” Vlaicu pointed at Damian’s right arm, held in a sling across his chest.

  “We took a fortress to capture Snail and free Cleyre Peyris. Don’t worry, you will have your own battles. You are going to capture the Duchy of Peyris. It may prove more of a headache than taking the Eagle’s Nest, and more rewarding too. Great things are taking Frankis by storm. You will see. People may be even write some songs about us.” Damian burst into laughing, and the men laughed along.

  “Most of the songs I know have bad words.” Vlaicu grinned and pushed his horse forward.

  Chapter 16 – Octavian

  After more than three weeks on the road, Octavian was cursing his position as Primus Itinerant of the Circle. As soon as the Conclave elected him, Maud sent him to Peyris and Loxburg. He could not use the shortest road through Severin; there were gallows waiting for him there. The road through Deva was longer, and passed through the mountains. For three days, the drizzle wet him to the bone. From Peyris he went to Loxburg, and from Loxburg, he was now heading back to Peyris. It was raining again.

  At least I convinced Manuc, he bragged inside, to lift his morale; the Duke of Loxbug was not an easy man. And Peyris is now in sight. Tonight, I will sleep in a bed. That’s some consolation, he almost laughed. After a last steep curve, out of the forest, the large city was visible in the valley, as was the Seines, its water glinting in the sun. It was still raining, but the clouds were finally broken. I had forgotten how much I love Peyris. A gust of wind caught his sodden cloak and set it slapping around him. Fate take Maud. He spurred his horse to a faster canter. The wind gusted again and whipped the rain into his eyes. His wet cloak did no good against the cold; his shoulders and back ached from the weight of his ring-mail.