Ardent

by Florian Armas

  “Is this the same person you mentioned?” Cantemir asked, his finger tapping my name on the paper, and I nodded. “Do you know what a Fracture is? Not the common word,” he added, in response to some inadvertent body signals from me. I was not so stupid as to misunderstand what a fracture meant. “The historical event named ‘Fracture’.” I didn’t want to stop the flow of his words, so I just shook my head, even when I knew about the two Fractures which engulfed our continent some hundred years ago. “When I arrived in Arad, after that little misadventure with Boar, I found a letter from... Do you know about the Wanderers?”

  “Yes.”

  Cantemir stared at me; opened his mouth to continue, then closed it, moistening his lips. “The letter is from their First Light.” He searched for a while in his desk, and pushed another paper over to me. “Read it aloud,” Cantemir said. “I want to remember it.”

  “Cantemir,

  I foresee the occurrence of a new Fracture in the remnants of the old Empire. Fate was sparse when speaking to me, so I don’t know when and what would trigger it. Only that it will start at the edges: Arenia and Frankis. The third Fracture in more than six hundred years, the first being the Alban Empire’s dissolution. The political destruction of the continent will make the civil war in Frankis look like a pleasant dream.

  Farewell Master Sage.

  Fate has asked me to join her, so this will be my last letter to you. For sure you will live in interesting times. May Fate bless the Circle when choosing the new candidate King.”

  “Complicated things,” I said, scratching my head.

  “I need a favor from you,” Cantemir interjected, still walking, without looking at me. “My purse is open...”

  “Let’s keep it as a personal favor,” I said.

  “You are a greedy man,” he protested, with a trace of a smile on his lips. “I owe you three personal favors for saving my life. There is an important woman who seems to have vanished without a trace, for six months already.”

  “A Wanderer.”

  “Yes, a Wanderer.” His hand gestured vaguely between impatience and indifference. “Her name is Lena.”

  “Perhaps I should know her Wanderer name too.”

  “Dochia.”

  “She went to Silvania at the end of last autumn.” I recalled, a bit hesitantly, what Varia had told me. “It was a hard winter. Still is,” I glanced through the window at the sparse snow. “She may be on the road or in one of their Hives in Silvania or Frankis.”

  “She has not returned. Two days ago, I received a letter, from their new First Light, asking if I know anything about Dochia’s whereabouts.”

  I moved slowly toward the window, trying to hide my concern. “Let’s hope it is the snow’s fault. It was not easy for me to arrive in Arad from the Long Valley. I had to take the longer route through Dorna. The mountains between Muniker and Frankis are taller and the main road passes through the Cursed Forest. Why is Dochia so important?”

  “She warned me about a ... mistake the Circle was going to make. It seems that she was right. I need to know more. They are so tight with their knowledge. The Wanderers,” he added. “They rarely tell you the whole thing. Maybe that paper will open her lips.” He pointed to the letter from the First Light that I was still playing with, unconsciously, between my fingers. I stopped playing, and settled it on his desk.

  “And you think that this ... mistake may start the Fracture.” What could Aron’s role be in this? He is too small to start a Fracture. He was just a Knight, even less important than Boar. Duke Stefan protected Aron... I remembered why I was far from Severin and Saliné in the middle of the winter. Cantemir nodded awkwardly; his lips tighter than a Vistier’s purse, and he wove his fingers together under his chin. “Last autumn, Duke Stefan interfered in Severin in Aron’s favor.”

  “Yes, yes, the Duke is involved in many things.” Cantemir’s answer came quickly, maybe too fast. “Would you look after Dochia?”

  “Yes,” I said, unable to guess past his words. What is the real Duke’s interest in Severin? Aron must be just a facade for something more obscure. And more dangerous? “Certainly I will look after her.” I just need to know where to look. Is she really in danger? “Give her some credit. The Wanderers are good fighters, and she doesn’t travel alone.” I tried to calm both Cantemir and myself. “Should I understand that the fear about this Fracture will, at least for a while, stop the war Orban wanted to start this year?”

  “War is an unpredictable creature,” Cantemir shrugged, looking blankly at me, as if wondering about his own future.

  “War or Orban?”

  “Both. With the new candidate King, things will not be the same for Orban. Neither will they be for me,” he murmured after a while. “The decision about war will not be made here.”

  A turn later, I left Arad for Severin, where I arrived a week after the Spring Solstice.

  At home, I found a letter from Cernat, asking me to visit him as soon I was back. It was dated almost three months ago, and that worried me. Without even changing my clothes, I mounted Zor and rode down toward his house.

  “Codrin, why has it taken you so long to get back?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper.

  “I was caught by a Mother Storm in the mountains,” I turned my hands up. “I left as soon as it was possible, and the road was long. I had to travel through Dorna. What happened?”

  “Nothing,” he shrugged, “we were just worried.”

  What are you hiding? Cernat looked like a man worried by many things.

  “Let’s go to Severin.” He gestured toward the valley, visible through the open window.

  “Something bad has happened?” I asked.

  “They want to see you,” Cernat said, his voice flat.

  We did not exchange many words on the road down, and most of them were just banalities.

  Inside Severin, on the small path from the gate to the castle, we met Saliné – she was walking arm in arm with Bucur. Unconsciously, my hand grabbed the hilt of my sword, and I slowed down when I realized it, to calm myself. With some effort, I unclenched my hand from the cold steel, and walked further, at a measured pace. My eyes could not tear themselves away from Saliné, and as I got closer, her calmness pressed on me, the calmness of a walking marble statue.

  “You are back,” Saliné said, her voice neutral. Then something flashed in her eyes, or maybe I fantasized that it did.

  “You are healed,” I answered. Catching a trace of a malicious smile on Bucur’s lips, I forced myself to ignore him.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Please excuse me, I am expected inside,” I gestured toward the castle, and walked further, without waiting for an answer. Cernat walked beside me without saying a word. He did not even glance at me. I did not talk either. We left the horses in the barn and went to the Guard Tower, to wash and change my clothes. I still had the small locker from the time I spent there before the war in Mehadia. Cernat waited for me and together we went up the stairs into the castle. Again, we did not speak, for different reasons though. It happened that we arrived in front of the dining room at the same time as Saliné. Silently, I opened the door for her. Jara, Vio and Mohor were already there. As she did each time I returned from a long journey, Vio jumped into my arms, and I turned her a few times in the air.

  “You have grown,” I ruffled her hair. “You are almost a lady now.”

  “That place is free.” Vio smiled with child happiness, pointing at the empty chair on Saliné’s left.

  “Thank you, Vio, but that is no longer my place.”

  “You know.” Vio bit her lip, and I just nodded. “I am sorry,” she said, her eyes filled with tears that did not fall. “I promised you I would keep Bucur away from her. I failed.”

  “You did not fail. People’ feelings may change in time. I am glad that Saliné found the man she deserved. Pretending to look at Vio, I watched Saliné from the corner of my eye. It was like speaking to a statue. I could not say the same about
Jara; her hands gripped the table, and even Mohor narrowed his eyes. The only one matching Saliné in his cold indifference, if I could name it that, was Cernat.

  The lunch lacked any spark, even when I recalled the story of the Mother Storm and the wolves that attacked us. Only Vio was really interested. All the others seemed to be waiting for the end of a lunch that had transformed itself into a kind of mandatory social event, and I felt that I no longer belonged there. At the end, Saliné was the first one to leave, and when Vio asked for more stories, Jara sent her away.

  “We have to talk.” Jara grabbed my arm when everybody else left the dining room, and I could not but observe how this looked like a well prepared scenario.

  What else could be worse than this?

  “Saliné has changed,” she said as if I had missed the closeness between Saliné and Bucur. “She was threatened by Sage Aurelian, who sneaked inside the castle without our approval. Something changed in her after that, and Bucur… I could not learn what happened, she refused to speak.”

  “I remember a similar discussion after I found her and Bucur walking together in the castle corridor, before I left for Mehadia. We know what happened after that.”

  “You know that she was drugged,” Jara scolded me.

  “Jara,” I tried to calm myself. “Saliné has chosen. It’s her life.”

  “That’s what I was trying to tell you,” Jara said vehemently, “that she did not choose. Bucur was imposed on her by the Circle, and we have to stop it.”

  “Did she tell you that?”

  “No.”

  “Then?”

  “Codrin, listen to me. I know Saliné well. She was coerced with something so powerful that it made her accept Bucur and hide the reason, even from me. Please talk with her. She hates Bucur. Until that day, the main subject of discussion we had was when you would return home, and that she doesn’t want to talk to Bucur again. He tried to importune her almost every day.”

  “What can I do that her mother cannot?”

  “You can do more. Please, Codrin,” she grabbed my arm. “Saliné has loved you from that late evening when you carried her in your arms to the girls’ bedroom. It was your second week in our house.”

  I blinked, and my mind slid back in time; carrying Saliné, her auburn hair so close to my eyes, then I was again with Jara. It took just a moment. I hated and loved it at the same time.

  “I will try,” I whispered, trying to hide my bitterness.

  “Thank you,” Jara touched my face. “It’s hard for everybody. Let’s go to the council room. Mohor and Father are waiting there.”

  Mohor was playing absently with a quill when we entered. On the opposite side of the room, Cernat was leaning against the window. Sit, Mohor gestured to me, and the screeching of Jara’s and my chairs on the floor was the only sound in the room.

  “Duke Stefan’s soldiers left Severin three days ago,” Mohor said.

  “I met them on the road.”

  “Except for that gambit of the Sages with Saliné at the beginning of the year, nothing notable has happened here. There was some horse trading with the Knights of Severin. I am trying to tie them to us; Aron tries his game too, but that is still nothing. It’s too calm. Much too calm.” Mohor’s fist hit the table. “I don’t like it,” he growled, in a way that it was not the Mohor I knew. “Even the Duke’s soldiers were present by being mostly absent. They did nothing apart from harassing some women and starting duels. They lost almost all of them.” A touch of pride flashed on Mohor’s face. It passed fast. “Stefan’s soldiers were here to pressure me for a thing that I still don’t know about. Did they succeed?”

  “Any other message from Duke Stefan?” I asked, and Mohor shook his head.

  “I may be too much involved in this, as Saliné is my daughter, but it looks to me that this entire circus has just been part of this game between the Sages, Saliné and Bucur. I don’t see the importance of all this. Apart from ruining Saliné’s life.”

  “Saliné may become Midia’s heir,” Cernat said, and all the eyes in the room turned toward him – until that moment, he had been a ghost. “Veres is just an expendable fool for Aron. Used and discharged when the need arises.”

  “So,” Mohor breathed, his brown brows knotted. “You think that Aron plans to take Midia for Bucur. From Orban?”

  “In exchange for Severin, maybe,” I said.

  For a moment, Mohor was so angry he could not speak. He stood up and strode across the room, whirled, went back, his face dark and angry. “Exchange,” he blinked rapidly. “Give Severin to Orban in exchange for Midia.” Mohor had not raised his voice, yet his fingers gripped the empty wine glass in his hand as if trying to shatter it. “I wished you had never spoken those words. I did not say that you shouldn’t have warned me.” He threw his body in his chair and remained silent.

  Jara sucked on her lower lip for a moment, staring at me. “Codrin, would it be too dangerous for you to talk with Cantemir? I am sorry, I should not have asked that,” she added hastily.

  “I’ve talked with him, before coming here.”

  “You are still alive,” Mohor joked, his anger still not fully subdued, and his eyes probed me eagerly.

  “You know me, Cantemir knows the Wraith,” I shrugged. “We discussed this before I went into exile. The only useful thing I learned from Cantemir was something weird. Aron told everyone that Bucur commanded Severin’s army last year. The purpose of this was unclear to him too, and he was even ... upset. I don’t know why.”

  “So, no war this year,” Mohor said after a little silence, and his brows went up.

  “I can’t make promises; but, the decision will be taken once the new candidate King is elected at the Summer Solstice, and Orban will be nothing more than one of the many pawns in the new game. A powerful one, of course. And who knows where the war will start?” I glanced at him, thinking that it was the best time to tell him. “The main problem is that you have no alliance with Devan. He was forced by the Circle and Orban to sign the alliance with your group. I don’t yet know why.” And there will be no wedding between Saliné and his son. We will have another wedding.

  “I trusted Devan,” Cernat said bitterly, sitting stiff and still.

  “It may be more an issue of leverage than trust,” I shrugged. “There is nothing more I can tell you now. If you don’t mind,” I stood up, feeling suddenly tired.

  “You promised.” Jara stared at me, and I nodded before leaving the room.

  It took Jara three days to create a situation that looked like a chance encounter with Saliné. I was so surprised that the only subjects of discussion I could find were some banalities, which sounded boring even to me. At least Saliné was a polite person; she did not protest my lack of wit.

  “Saliné, I heard about the Circle threatening you,” I finally found the courage to talk. “Let them growl. Things may change soon for the better. Remember this. Always.” I said the word which bonded us under the cherry tree, and watched her eagerly, waiting for a reaction, ready to take her in my arms. There was none.

  “My fate is sealed with Bucur. I am sorry Codrin, but it can’t be changed.” Her voice was light, and seemingly untroubled. “It’s my choice, and I want you to respect it. Vio loves you like a sister, but she will grow and blossom. I wish you to be happy together. Now please excuse me,” she said, with that dreadful coldness that gnawed at me from the day of my return, and turned away.

  I stood like an idiot, watching her walking away, and it was not easy to talk with Jara about my failure either.

  “Codrin, don’t give up.” Jara rubbed her hands in a show of nervousness. “I will try to find some way to let you talk more together.”

  “Like when you invited Bucur to parties to stay with Saliné and keep me away from her?”

  “You know how it was.” She stared at me, and I just shrugged, and left the castle.

  The next day, I was on the road to Orhei; there were too many unexpected things around me, and I hoped
that Calin might have some answers. As had become customary, Pintea joined Vlad and me. What happened in the Long Valley had hardened him, but Pintea was still young, and at fifteen, everything was just another adventure for him.

  ***

  We arrived in Orhei under the rain, not the kind of powerful short shower which leaves you refreshed, but something slow and monotonous, a drizzle finding its way down to your bones through every clothe you wear. It was like this from the morning we left Severin. There was at least the advantage of riding mostly alone on the road. That cold drizzle numbs your senses, or at least it did mine. With all my experience, I always found traveling for a long time through rain to be part of my most precarious journeys. I avoided such journeys when I could. In a way, I was lucky; the caravan season started in late spring and ended in mid-autumn. During the winters, I stayed in Severin, and there were no people asking for Tudor the Wraith’s services who might find out that I was Codrin and where I really lodged.

  The gate was closed when we arrived in front of Calin’s house. It was late in the evening, and almost dark. There was no one in the yard, and I had to knock for several minutes. In the effort to hit harder, my body contorted, and my hood slipped down. Cold water from the gate’s small roof went down my spine.