Beneath the Veil

by Megan Hart

  Back in Daelyn's chambers, I helped him dispose of his ruined clothes and ran a hot bath for him before I tended to myself. By then I could barely think, barely move. I paused to look out the window but could see nothing. I could only imagine the forest and the mountains beyond, and the travelers who made their way there while I'd returned to warmth and safety.

  I sent up a blessing for them to the Invisible Mother, and I wept for the boy because he had been unable to do it for himself.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  I didn't expect to rise in time for my fight lesson that morning, but the sixchime found me wide-eyed in my bed. I moved my stiff body from beneath the covers, thought about trying to sleep some more, then decided against it. I'd slept little enough already, tossing and turning with vivid and nasty dreams. I didn't wish to continue on that path.

  Instead, I bathed and dressed, and went to the kitchen for food though my belly felt shriveled and useless. I choked on the soft bread, gulped down some water, and refused the eggs the fat cook tried to offer me. The cook himself wore a frown instead of his usual plump-cheeked grin, and though I didn't wish to ask for awful news, I did anyway.

  "Hadn't you heard? Some of Lord Rosten's men went missing last night. He's on a rampage this morning, sure enough, because they didn't report to the barracks."

  "Deserters?" I asked, as though I had no knowledge of the night's events.

  "Oh, no." Cook shook his head so fiercely his white cap slid over one eye. He pushed it back and left a smudge of flour on his red face. "More follies went missing last night. The men of their houses reported it this morning. Rosten already had his men out combing the streets looking for them, and for the men who didn't show up last night. He thinks someone killed them."

  "How can he be sure they're dead?"

  Cook whinnied. "Laddie, they'd better hope they're dead. If they deserted or just didn't show up, what Rosten will do to them is far worse than a cold earthen bed."

  They didn't sleep in the earth, but under the frigid water. I didn't tell him that. I gulped the rest of my water and held out my cup for more, but the pitcher was empty.

  "Water froze last night," Cook said as he hollered at the kitchen folly to fetch some more water from the well. "We're in for a harsh winter, lad."

  I left without a further drink, but didn't go to the fight field. The sky had turned so gray overhead the sun looked like naught more than a pale disk behind the clouds. The wind whipped around me, and I pulled my hood up around my face.

  The streets were busy despite the weather, and as I walked along Regent Square I stopped to grab one of the newspapers a small lad was selling on the stoop of one of the shops. I gave him the only coin I had in my purse, a gold regent, which would have bought me a hundred papers, had I wanted. The boy's eyes lit up, but I didn't stop to hear his thanks.

  The news had been printed on soft, cheap paper that fell apart in my hands when the first wet snowflakes hit the pages. Normally advertisements and stories on the latest fashions filled the columns. Today the entire front page was a letter from Rosten to the city, telling of his plans to "eradicate this menace."

  I threw the paper to the ground and watched it disintegrate as the snow fell. I lifted my face to the sky and let the beauty of the white flakes calm me as best they could. All around me, little boys laughed and threw handfuls of snow at each other while men did their errands and the women moved in pairs about their business.

  Two of them moved down the walk toward me, and I expected them to duck past as all follies did, heads down and silent. Lost in my own thoughts, I ignored them, until the shorter of the pair moved in front of me. Startled, for her behavior would have warranted a trip to the House of the Book if I'd been a different person, I stepped aside to let her pass.

  Deliberately, she countered and stepped in front of me again. "My lord."

  I looked around quickly, to be certain she hadn't been overheard, then grabbed her by the arm and marched her toward the small alley between the cheroot shop and the cobbler's store. "What are you doing?"

  A flash of brown eyes caught me from the slit in her kedalya. "I have to talk to you."

  "Galya?"

  She hissed and pulled me further into the shadows. The other folly, still silent, moved behind to pen me in. Galya stepped up closer to whisper in my ear.

  "Your mother, Aeris."

  I remembered my vow of the night before. "What of her?"

  Galya's fingers dug into my arm just below the elbow. "You should go to her."

  "How do you know this?" I had to force my voice to remain low and calm. I took a deep breath. "Do you know my mother?"

  "I've never met her, no. But if there's something that needs knowing, we follies know it." She tugged my arm. "When I got the message she was trying to reach you, I knew I'd have to be the one to tell you. Come on."

  I didn't understand what she meant by message, but I understood her bravery. She could approach me because she knew me, knew how I'd react. A woman who didn't know me would have been too scared to address me. Still, Galya had taken a risk. If any man had seen her stepping up to me...

  "Come on," she repeated with another tug on my arm. "Before it's too late."

  That stopped me again. "Too late? What's wrong?"

  She gave an impatient sigh and spun to face me, her eyes glittering. "She's sick, Aeris. Probably dying. Now you'd better hurry to get to her before she goes."

  Dying? A fist squeezed my heart. I hurried after Galya and her unnamed companion as they wove through the narrow alley. I had thought I well-knew the way back to the house I'd spent most of my life in, but Galya and her friend took me through streets and alleys I'd never known. I didn't pass another man on the way, though follies in groups of three and four congregated on stoops and sat in windows.

  "What is this street called?" I asked her as we passed the back wall of a brick building.

  "It doesn't have a name," Galya said. "This is Folly Town. Back doors and back streets."

  She spoke in a normal tone of voice, clearly unafraid of being overheard, though she didn't remove the kedalya.

  "Folly Town?"

  The bright sparkle of her laughter drifted back to me. "There's a lot you don't know."

  That was true enough, but I didn't have time to ask her more questions because I recognized the high fence, topped with dried joba melons, surrounding my uncle's small square patch of back yard.

  I'd never noticed the gate in the fence, but Galya motioned for me to go through it. "She's in her quarters."

  I waited a minute before I went through. "Galya. Thank you."

  She nodded. "Hurry, now."

  I slipped through the narrow gate and hurried to the back door of the house. I'd never ventured into this section of the house before, the kitchen and folly quarters. The hall was dark enough I had to stop and blink my eyes before I could see. The smells of cooking and soap scented the air. I heard a baby cry and the laughter of a small child. One my uncle's girl children peeked at me from an open doorway, her hair a tumble of dark curls around her shoulders. She couldn't have been more than two, since her hair was still long and her face uncovered. She smiled. I smiled back.

  "Whist," came Myrna's voice. "Linda, get inside here!"

  The old woman caught sight of me and her hands clutched spasmodically on the girl's shoulders. "My lord!"

  "I'm here to see my mother," I told her, not caring if my use of the affectionate term shocked her. "Where is she?"

  Myrna pointed across the hall to a closed door. "In there."

  I pushed it open. The stench of illness assailed me, and I coughed. The hall had been dim, but this room was even darker, lit only by a single, cheap candle in a wall sconce. A sagging bed, piled with blankets, was the only furniture.

  "Mother?"

  She groaned, and the blankets shifted. "Aeris?"

  I knelt by the side of the bed, found her cold hand and pressed it to my cheek. "Mother, what's wrong? What happened?"

&nbs
p; She took a deep, shuddering breath. "Sick."

  Tears stung my throat. "Has Akadar called a medicus for you?"

  She didn't answer. I pulled away the blanket, then tugged the kedalya's hood to expose her face and give her air. Her face was pale but for the flushed cheeks, her eyes sunken and dark. Her hair hung in lank strands over her forehead, and I brushed them away.

  She smelled sour. Each breath rattled in her lungs. I pushed her flat pillow into a sad excuse for plumpness and helped her sit, which seemed to ease her breathing by a little.

  "What happened, mother? Why hasn't uncle called a healer?"

  "Says it costs too much," spoke Myrna from the doorway. She shut the door behind her and came to the bed. "He sent her out in the rain to buy Rinder a new pair of breeches, but Rinder didn't like the cut or the fabric. He sent her back. Five times they made her go back and forth, like it was a game or somewhat. When she came back, she collapsed, and she took sick that night. my lord will not pay for a medicus, as he says Amerada is too old to bear more children. She's been poorly this past fivemonth, anyway."

  The last sounded disapproving. "Because of me?"

  "She's missed you somewhat fierce," whispered Myrna as she ducked as though expecting a blow.

  I kissed my mother's hand again. Her eyes had closed. "I know."

  "She's going to die."

  A sob escaped me. "I know that, too."

  "Better she do it now, than drag it out. Every day she lays here is one more day to give my lord the chance to put her out."

  I didn't doubt the bastard would do it. "I have money. I'll pay for a medicus to come...."

  "No, Aeris." My mother's voice, raspy but coherent, stopped me. "It doesn't matter, now. I just wanted to see you again, love."

  I looked into her eyes, the same color and shape as mine own. "A lot has happened, Mother. There are changes in Alyria."

  "And I won't see them," she whispered. Her hand came up to stroke my cheek. "But you will, my child. You will."

  Foolishly, I thought her smile meant she'd experienced a brief respite from her pain. When her hand fell onto the blankets, I knew I was wrong. A sob tried to rip from my throat, but I held it in. I clutched the blankets, my mind awhirl with grief. I got to my feet, unsteady. I put both shaking hands to my face to keep the scream inside, but some of it leaked out, anyway. The growl was feral, full of agony, and I bit it back again and again until I swallowed it.

  Dry-eyed, I turned to Myrna, who'd cowered against the wall. I raised my hand to point to my mother's corpse, and Myrna flinched and whimpered.

  "See that she's taken care of," someone said, and though I knew it was me who spoke, the words seemed to come from a stranger. "Don't let him hurt her any more."

  "No, my lord. We'll see she's treated proper."

  I bent low and closed my mother's unseeing eyes. "Thank you," I whispered to her deaf ear. "For giving me a life."

  Then I turned on my heel and left the room that had begun to stink of death.

  Chapter Thirty

  I found Fiesco waiting outside of Daelyn's door when I returned. He greeted me with a puff of his cheroot and a sorrowful look. I paused before opening.

  "The prince is inside?"

  "Aye." Fiesco dropped the cheroot and ground out the ember. "Got him a fresh folly this time, I did. Not one of mine, but to tell you the truth, lad, Rosten's made it near impossible to keep any follies in my stable."

  "So you took another man's?"

  "Took?" Fiesco shook his head and glanced at the closed door. "No, lad. She was offered. 'Tis an honor, you know, for a folly to bear a prince's get. Lots of nobles and common men, too, offer their follies for the prince's use, in hopes if she catches his seed, he'll reward them."

  "I'd better go inside."

  He reached out a hand and stopped me. "I'd wait a bit, lad. The Book Master's been real strict with me about this. Protocols must be followed."

  "And Daelyn? What's he have to say about it?"

  "The Prince Regent was more'n happy to follow my suggestions," said Fiesco, face still pulled into a grievous look. "Thank the Invisible Mother. I didn't want to have to...well, I didn't want to get between him and the Book Master is all."

  Thinking, I looked at him. Invisible Mother? That was not a common plea. I'd seen how Fiesco treated the follies under his care. He didn't hate women.

  Wine and blood still stained my tunic. My body ached, and my soul did too, for the loss of my mother. I wanted to bathe myself and go to sleep, but I had no idea how long it would take Daelyn to finish his duties. I didn't wish to get between Daelyn and the Book Master, either.

  "I guess I'll go to the kitchen and get something to eat," I lied, and left the Folly Master.

  As soon as turned the corner, I ducked beneath the tapestry and into the concealed doorway. From there it took me a few moments to orient myself toward Dae's chambers, since the access to that was hidden even in the hidden passage. I found the notch for the opening and thumbed it open, but hesitated before stepping out into the dressing room.

  I'd heard voices. Two male voices. Daelyn was supposed to be alone.

  I put my eye to the crack. From this angle I could see directly through the dressing room and into Daelyn's bedchamber, though the bed was hidden. What I saw made me bit my lip.

  Lir, bare chested. And beside him, unveiled, Galya. Daelyn, fully dressed, sat in a chair in front of them. I pulled back into the darkness and pressed my hands over my mouth. Lir and Galya and Daelyn, together.

  I put my eye to the crack again. Daelyn had risen and was kissing Galya while he stroked her body up and down. Over her breasts. Between her legs. She moaned and tilted her hips against his touch, and heat flooded me.

  My own breasts ached, as did the spot between my legs. My breath was short in my lungs, and I had to swallow hard to clear the tightness in my throat. I blinked and blinked again, wanting to turn away but desperate to see.

  Daelyn took Galya by the hand and sat her in his chair, then spread her thighs. Kneeling, he put his face to her belly and licked and kissed it, then moved lower. She gasped and moaned and writhed, while Daelyn spoke softly to her between kisses.

  Her body tensed and arched, and I felt mine wanting to do the same, though toward what release I wasn't sure. Every part of me filled with liquid fire. My nipples burned against the binding cloth. The crotch of my trousers pressed and rubbed against me so I wanted to rock my hips in search of something I couldn't name.

  Galya, head thrown back, gave a breathless cry and shuddered. Her hands clutched at Daelyn's head and pressed his face against her. Then she went still. Her eyes opened, and she looked down and smiled. Daelyn rose on his knees to kiss her mouth.

  Through it all, Lir had watched, face flushed. Now he waited until Daelyn took Galya's hand and urged her to stand. Then Lir, the Fight Master, my Fight Master, my Lir, kissed her. I clearly saw the sweep of his tongue as he put it in her mouth and she opened to take it.

  My knees went weak. The wood of the doorway splintered under my fingernails as I clenched my fists. He kissed her, and my heart twisted and tore inside my chest with jealousy.

  I'd thought maybe Daelyn wanted Lir there to support him in friendship, but this clearly made me understand the real reason. It had become important enough to Daelyn he spawn a son, and since for whatever reason he thought he couldn't, he was asking Lir to do it for him.

  I couldn't bear to watch the man I loved and the man I'd thought I hated make love to the girl who'd become my friend. I wanted to be there, with them, part of their group, being loved by them...and I had no place in it.

  Lir picked up Galya, tiny and petite. Not like me, the great and hulking beast I was. She was small, and soft. She was beautiful, and I...I wasn't.

  I closed my eyes when, still kissing her, he took her out of my vision. Daelyn followed. I put my hands to my ears, not wanting to hear the sounds of their lovemaking. I forced my feet to move, because even in my grief, I knew I had to leave. Lir w
ould be using this passage to leave without Fiesco knowing.

  I went back through the dark, hidden hall and stumbled into the corridor more carelessly than I should have. I went to the fight field and worked myself to exhaustion. Then, when I thought they would be finished, I crept back to Daelyn's now-dark, now-empty rooms and I put myself to bed.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  I woke the next morning at my usual time. I'd slept better than I expected to. I washed, dressed, looked in on the sleeping prince, and left his chambers.