Respectant

by Florian Armaselu

  “Grab her,” Orban’s son ordered when they surrounded Vio. This time, he had brought three strong soldiers with him. They had been paid in advance, one year of their pay, and they were to leave Arad, after Vio had been raped.

  Two of them were already behind Vio, bending to catch her arms and immobilize her. She turned and slashed her knife across the face on the man on her right. The tip of the knife cut through the man’s left eye, and he howled in pain. In his hasty retreat, he bumped into the second man behind Vio, and both fell behind the sofa. She rolled to the floor and passed behind the man in front of her, who tried in vain to stop her; Vio was too quick. Behind him, she slashed his thigh, and that stopped him running after her. She could not avoid the staff Orban’s son hit her with.

  “I’ve got you, bitch,” he growled. “You will not escape this time. I will have you here.”

  Bent in pain, she rolled further, evading a second blow. The third one caught her arm, and the knife dropped from her hand. On her bottom, she retreated fast toward the fireplace, her eyes on him. Panicked for the first time, Vio stumbled as she attempted to stand, ending up on her behind again as he rushed toward her. Her hand chanced upon the poker lying beside the fireplace just as he descended on her like an animal. The combination of their rapid movements drove the head of the poker right through his chest, piercing his heart. Orban’s son was dead before he hit the ground. Vio sat on the floor, gasping with shock and terror, while the three men tried to leave the room as fast as they could. She closed her eyes and retreated inside.

  It took her several long moments to realize that the man at her feet was no longer a threat, and she half calmed until realization came to her: she had killed Orban’s son.

  Trying to leave, the three surviving assailants bumped into Orban, entering the library.

  “What happened?” Orban asked, and then he saw his son lying in a pool of blood on the floor. “Arrest these men,” he ordered the guards behind him.

  “I told you that Vio would kill him,” Sybille, the Third Light of the Wanderers said, when they came to the other end of the room she had seen in her Vision.

  “Yes, yes, you told me, but why should I have believed you? Last time she came here, Drusila told me only stupid things. Her Vision was totally false.” Walking slowly, he stopped when his foot almost touched his son. “You lived like an idiot. You died like an idiot. Take him,” Orban ordered to the guards. He looked at Vio, and their eyes crossed. “So, in the end you did it.”

  “A servant came to take Lanya away, and then they tried to rape me.”

  “I didn’t think they had come to read you a book, even though this is one of the finest libraries in Frankis. You killed a man. Well, I can’t really say that he was a man. I can accept evil, but I can’t accept stupidity. Even so, he was my son. You killed my son.”

  “He tried to rape me,” Vio repeated, and moved half a step back.

  “I would have done the same in your place, but I am the Grand Seigneur of Arad, and I must do my duty.” He looked around and found a poker, lying alongside the body of his son. “You did not even use a weapon to kill him. I don’t resent that; a sword would have been too noble a thing for this halfwit.”

  “I demand a council to judge me.”

  “That will take too long, and we are in a difficult situation. Arad will have new masters tomorrow. I’ve already passed judgment, and you will be punished now. Sybille, take her, and do what we’ve already agreed.”

  Vio stepped back until she felt two hands grabbing her shoulders. She wriggled, trying to escape, but the hands were too strong, and another grabbed her by the arm. Escorted by the two Wanderer guards, she was taken out of the room.

  “Prepare the pyre for my son,” Orban ordered his men. “Hang those three men you found here. Find the servant who made Lanya leave the library. Hang him too.”

  Silent, Orban stood in front of the pyres. They were almost consumed, no more flames, just thin stripes of smoke rising quietly toward the sky. The sun was close to its zenith, a huge red sphere. “Let them come.”

  The guards parted and allowed Jara, Cernat and Cantemir to come to the pyres too.

  “The one on the left is for my son; the other one is for Vio.”

  Jara already knew that Vio was dead, but the shock left her breathless. “Monster,” she finally said, her voice cracked and loud. She tensed and stepped forward, ready to strangle Orban, who had his back to them. Cernat stopped her, seeing the guards prepared to intervene, weapons ready. At Orban’s signal, the guards moved away, leaving only the three in front of the pyres.

  Without turning, he spoke again. “I will tell you a story, Jara. I am sure you will find it interesting. I was still a boy when my mother was poisoned. My father was assassinated when I was sixteen. An arrow during a hunt. My first wife was poisoned too, only a few months after my son was born. It was bad luck; she took my plate by mistake. I made a decision then, that I no longer wanted to suffer, that it was better for others to suffer in my place. A long time ago, a philosopher – I forgot his name – said that he had decided to be happy because it was good for his health. I decided to be evil because it was good for my health. With the next assassination attempt I was lucky. I captured the man myself, a well-trained mercenary. I was only twenty years old but good with a dagger. He had miscalculated. Then I captured his family and killed them all in front of him, children, wife, siblings, parents. All of them. He is still alive in my jail. An old man now, but I took good care of him. I did the same for the next one who tried to assassinate me. They share the same cell in my jail, so they can talk about the good old times. Guess what? Nobody tried to kill me again. So you see? It served me well to be a monster. There was only one glitch, when my first born, Bernd, vanished without trace. Mischance, I suppose,” Orban shrugged. “My second son was a failure, and he deserved his death. I even feel relieved that I will not see him again. He was my biggest failure, and it was hard to see that each day. My daughter is an intelligent girl who I love. She doesn’t know that. Nobody knows that. It was my way of protecting her, keeping her safe from assassination, yet she hates me. I don’t blame her. In all this world, you and Cernat are the only ones who know of my love for her, and that she is my only weakness. This is the gift I leave in your hands, Jara: my daughter. Tomorrow, I will lose my power. Your will rise, and my daughter will be in your hands. You will have the power to avenge Vio. It’s a poisoned gift, isn’t it? If I am still alive, in three years, I will tell you another story. You will find it even more interesting. You should not worry if I die; I have taken measures to ensure you will still hear it. My mourning has ended. If it helps you, it was not my son that I mourned. I will leave you alone, now.”

  “Did your decision, to live like that, made you happy, Orban?” Cernat asked.

  “I can’t say that. I can’t say that at all, but you can’t have everything you want in life. You know that well, Cernat. We are so much alike in our old sorrows.”

  Chapter 23 – Codrin

  “I was within my rights as Grand Seigneur of Arad. Vio killed my son, and the punishment was appropriate.” They were gathered in Orban’s office on the day Orban was to hand Arad over to Codrin.

  “You executed the victim,” Codrin said. “Your son tried to rape her.”

  “I won’t deny that, but it changes nothing. If she had not killed him, I would have taken the appropriate measures. We signed a treaty. Both sides suffered a similar loss. Almost similar, as I lost a son, while the new Duke of Arad lost only a family friend. Despite this, I will still recognize my signature on the treaty.”

  Codrin was caught on the wrong foot. Legally, Orban was right, even Codrin’s allies were of the same opinion. Everybody believed that the treaty would avoid a siege, and everybody wanted to stay alive and go home. And as the newly proclaimed King of Frankis, breaking his first signed treaty would only weaken him.

  “I need some more time for consultation,” Codrin said. “Jara, Cernat, Manuc, Cantemir,
Panait and Vlad will stay.”

  “Do you need any help?” Orban asked, dismissively.

  “Don’t push your luck, Orban.” Codrin’s voice was flat and menacing.

  Vlad went out with Orban and returned with a man whose face was hidden. The man bowed before revealing his face. There was a stunned silence in the room, and the man flashed a large smile before saying, “A lot of familiar people, I see.”

  “Verenius,” Manuc said, “I would really like to know how you escaped from that noose around your neck. It would be a useful trick in such an unstable world.” So this is how Codrin has manipulated the Circle. He is quite sophisticated for his age.

  “I cut it with my teeth.” Walking toward the place Codrin had pointed to, he flashed his smile again – Verenius had strong, large teeth.

  “We are complete now. Almost. Cleyre and Costa are missing. We need to find a solution.” He stopped, unable to find words good enough to soothe Jara.

  In the end, Cernat was the first to speak. “My family has suffered a great loss but, legally, Orban is right. The treaty stands. Breaking it will not bring Vio back to us. It will bring nothing good. Only more death.” He glanced at Jara, who nodded. “We agree to end this and move on.”

  Her eyes blurred, Jara thought back, filled with bitterness. That night, Drusila promised me she would save Vio from Orban. I even allowed her make to Vio a Wanderer. What went wrong? Did she let me down on purpose? Are the Wanderers so treacherous these days? Even if they are, that doesn’t absolve me. Vio counted on me and I failed her. I failed Saliné too. I have failed everybody. I am a failure. Unable to think straight, she stood up and went to the window, followed by all the eyes in the room. She met Codrin’s stare and nodded at him.

  “There is more,” Codrin said, feeling Jara’s pain, which mirrored his own, but he needed to continue. “Some of you already know that a Fracture is coming; the Lights of the Wanderers foresaw it in their Visions. I think all of you know what that means, and what we say now, stays between us. Only Cleyre, Costa and Vlad are aware of what will follow.” He looked around until all of them nodded. “When there is a Fracture, there is also a Seer. This time, I am the Seer of the Realm. We must unify Frankis and gather the other kingdoms under my command for the next nomad invasion. No one knows, yet, when they will invade us.”

  “From what I know, that’s more a burden than a favor. Since when are you...?” Manuc asked, rotating his forefinger a few times.

  “Yes, it’s a burden. It happened less than two months ago, the day after I took Severin. I suppose you want to know if my victories happened only because I am Seer. My power is limited. No, not my power, but the knowledge of how to use it. I am Seer only because I have the potential. It takes a few years to develop. You are the first ones to know, and the first to share my burden. As both your King and Seer, I am expecting you to act accordingly. Jara, Cernat, thank you for your understanding. Vio was dear to me too. Together with Cleyre and Costa, you will be my Council of the Realm. If any of you wants to leave, speak now.” He looked at them, and one by one, they nodded their agreement. “Tomorrow, you will take oath. You will also keep secret the fact that Verenius is alive. Vlad, bring Orban here.”

  Verenius covered his face again, and when the door opened, Codrin said to Orban, while he was still in the doorway, “The treaty stands. You have two days to move to the old palace. You may leave now.” He gestured at the guards visible through the open door.

  “I know the way,” Orban said and left the room for the second time.

  ***

  Walking absently through the palace, Codrin found the library. Still grieving for Vio, he was too troubled to read, and entered without realizing it, a wandering mind and old habit. After a while, he heard a faint noise coming from a distant corner. Nothing dangerous; it resembled a muffled cry. In the farthest corner from the main door, he found a girl, sitting with her back against the wall, knees to her chest, clasped very tightly with her arms, her head leaning on them. She was sobbing.

  “What happened?” Codrin asked gently.

  The girl tried to answer, but her words were drowned in tears. He pulled the girl up, and took her in his arms. Unconsciously, she placed her arms around his neck and embraced him tightly.

  “What happened?” he repeated.

  “Vio,” the girl cried. “I lost my Vio.”

  Codrin bit his lip, pain returning to him. “I lost her too, and she was my friend. Was she your friend too?”

  “Yes, she was my only friend.”

  “Would you tell me your name?”

  “I am Lanya.”

  “Ah,” Codrin said. “Would you walk with me?”

  “Yes.” But she only tightened her arms around his neck, and he walked away, carrying her in his arms.

  In the corridor, people moved aside, making space for them to pass. Behind them, they looked both surprised and pleased. They liked the shy and furtive Lanya, though they tried to hide it when Orban still ruled Arad, afraid of him. Codrin gestured toward a woman he had spoken with before, asking her mutely how to find Lanya’s room. He pressed a finger to his lips. Silent, the woman curtsied and gestured to follow her. Just when he was about to enter, another woman came out of Lanya’s room.

  “Your majesty,” she whispered, “I was looking for Lanya. We lost... We haven’t seen her since yesterday.” Codrin did not like to be called majesty, but Cantemir had a different opinion. He had instructed all the servants to act that way, and they all were accustomed to obeying the Secretary, who was now the Chancellor of Frankis.

  “You didn’t search too hard,” Codrin said coldly. “Lanya, I think that we should go and eat something.”

  “Yes,” the girl said, and Codrin carried her into the kitchen, where she ate for almost half an hour, everything the Chef put on her plate.

  In the evening, upset about her behavior, Codrin asked Cantemir to replace the woman who took care of Lanya.

  “She cares about Lanya. I understand that you are upset, but her father died two days ago. Give her another chance.”

  “I did not know that, and you know her better. From now on, Lanya will move to the S’Arad suite and will eat with us.”

  Jara and Cernat were the closest people to Codrin and, in the new arrangement, Jara and her toddler son, Mark, kept the suite of the Signora while Cernat took the one which had belonged to Bernd, Orban’s son, a long time ago. They ate together, each trying to reenact their past in the hunting house at Severin but, without Vio and Saliné, it was just a pale imitation. To their surprise, Lanya recovered well, and soon, a strange thing happened, as both Jara and Codrin started to act as if they had adopted Orban’s daughter. She became a kind of replacement for Vio. Even though Lanya was a year older, she was smaller than Vio, and there was not much physical resemblance between them, apart from their large blue eyes. The year the girls had spent together in a palace where both felt unwelcome, and Vio was a prisoner, pushed them together, and each learned from the other. Unconsciously, both Jara and Codrin found those similarities and their longing fed on them.

  It took Codrin two weeks to decide that Jara was ready to hear the news about Veres.

  “He did that to Cleyre?” she asked, incredulous. “I can’t believe it. Well, yes, I can believe it, yet I can’t believe it. Codrin,” she said, taking his arm, her voice pleading. “What do you want to do? Please don’t execute him. Veres has a simple mind, and most of his sins are only because Aron perverted him. And he may be the only child I still have from Malin. Give him... No, give me a chance...”

  “A chance for what?”

  “For a grandson. Keep him in jail while I try to find him a wife. She will know everything about him, and she will lead the house until their eventual son will be old enough to take over. Malin was too good a man to lose his line. Tudor’s line has also vanished, and they don’t have other siblings alive.”

  “We can try,” Codrin said, not really convinced, but he did not want to upset Jara even more.


  ***

  The caravan from Poenari entered Arad a month after the city fell to Codrin. People moved both ways, in and out of the city. This reorganization kept Codrin occupied and his bad memories in the back of his mind. Sava came to take over the Guard of Arad; Boldur returned to Poenari – his clan was now settled in the mountains around the fortress, and he was both Chief of his clan and of the Guard of Poenari. Varia was named governor of Poenari, and she kept Livia with her. Valer left to take over his fiefdom, Cleuny, and the governorate of southern Mehadia. Vlaicu returned as governor of Severin and remained the Spatar of the kingdom. Damian went to Dorna as the Spatar of the province.

  Mara, her children and her father came too.

  “You have grown,” Codrin laughed, and raised his son up in his arms. He was greeted with a loud cry that made him frown.

  “Radu is just hungry.” Mara laughed at the helpless look Codrin threw at her, and took the child in her arms. “But is also afraid of this big stranger.” She sat in a chair and put the child to her breast. That gave her some respite, as she did not know how to handle Codrin. On the road, she had learned about Vio’s death, and she knew how much Codrin was attached to the little girl. She was no longer a little girl, she thought, but for him she still was, and that will hit him even harder. It’s all about perspective. And she had her own worries, about her relationship with him. He is vulnerable now. Saliné seems to be lost, and if I get too close to him, he may become too attached to me. He may even propose marriage again. This must be avoided. Little Radu finished his meal and fell asleep, a moment later. She placed him in his bed, and spent much more time than was needed to arrange his small body. Codrin watched them from close proximity, a smile on his lips – the first one more than in a month. When she could no longer pretend, Mara turned to face Codrin. She embraced him, hiding her face in his shoulder, so he could not kiss her. He embraced her too.

  “I am glad that you are here.”