by Kate Elliott
Menoë’s tinkling laugh sparks above the silence.
“Are you guests all still here? Come to bid Kal good-bye as he marches off to war?” Her derisive tone carries easily over the expectant audience, which is no doubt hoping for a scandal or at the very least something scrumptious to gossip about tomorrow. “Here he is! I have brought my darling brother to receive your accolades and good wishes. I am sure that with my brilliant husband, General Esladas, to guide him he will prove to be a mighty warrior and a dazzling strategist.”
Kalliarkos stares straight ahead. Father steps up beside him and, with the easy patience of a man who has outlasted battles far more brutal than this weak mockery, he beckons to a servant to bring gold goblets for brother and sister. These contain the nectar that only the nobly born are allowed to drink. For himself he snags an ordinary glass goblet filled with cloudy-white palm wine and raises it in the traditional salute of military men.
“Under the eyes of the three gods who shower fecundity, martial prowess, and justice upon our ventures, let sister and brother prosper as Efea prospers. May all the undertakings of Garon Palace and its noble patroness, Princess Berenise, bloom as fields after the spring flood. Let my sponsor, Lord Gargaron, stand high among the lords of the land as he sends his precious nephew to the Eastern Reach to battle our implacable enemies, this unprecedented alliance between the kings of East Saro, West Saro, and Saro-Urok.”
His audience enthusiastically hisses and stomps to show its hatred. When the noise dies down, Father goes on.
“May the gods judge these kings who once kept faith with our rulers and have now turned treacherously against us.”
The gathered Patrons salute with the required response: “As the gods will it, so will it be.”
They drain their cups.
A man dressed all in gold—the color of the royal palace—steps out of the crowd with a laugh. He is Prince Nikonos, the popular younger brother of the unpopular king and queen, and a soldier like my father. Because of his exalted rank he leads the Royal Army of Efea on behalf of his siblings.
He raises a golden cup. “To the glory of Lord Kalliarkos and his military career!”
A wave of dizzy revelation overtakes me. His distinctive, rich voice is that of the man who was embracing Menoë earlier in the garden.
“Dear cousin Kal, may your trials in battle end better than your trial at the Royal Fives Court today.”
The taunting words fall like hot spikes, and the Patrons go so still that I can hear every scrape of a sandal on the marble floor. People look at Kalliarkos, wondering how he can possibly answer this blatant ridicule delivered by a prince pretending to chuckle as at a shared jest. Kal’s cheeks redden under the assault. Even Father looks stymied. He cannot cross weapons with his commanding officer.
Fury boils up so strongly it sweeps me forward. I stride into the pavilion with the confidence of a victorious adversary, pulling all eyes away from Kal’s embarrassment. Servants and highborn folk alike make way, for they cannot help but goggle at the brawny Efean girl who dares to walk in their midst. Kal goes even more red as the Patrons murmur with glee, sensing disaster or maybe an ugly fall as on the Fives court.
“Isn’t that the adversary Spider who defeated Lord Kalliarkos today?”
“Look how tall she is!”
“She vaulted from Novice to Challenger in one trial, and gave Garon Stable something to brag about after all this time as the least victorious palace!”
“Did you see her flair and timing? She’ll be an Illustrious someday, mark my words.”
A man cuts in front of me and halts me with his thin smile alone. He extends a hand and I take an instinctive step away as from a scorpion, but Lord Gargaron never intended to touch a person like me. He gestures like an orator, demanding the crowd’s attention.
“So! I have summoned my newest Challenger, whom you all know as Spider. I am sure you saw her triumph this morning at the victory games at the Royal Fives Court. Take a good look now, and start placing your wagers, because I predict she will rise from Challenger to Illustrious faster than any adversary before her.” His gaze snaps to me like fire to tinder, offering no mercy and plenty of punishment. “As long as she does not fall and break her neck with those unexpected spins she uses.”
I stand my ground, but it isn’t easy not to run. This is the man who buried my family alive in a tomb so that Father could never find them. If he discovers that Kal and I rescued them, he’ll not rest until we are all dead. What if my deeds are somehow written on my face?
My expression stays a mask. I wait for the whip to fall.
“Let the adversary known as Spider kneel before Princess Berenise and accept a share of the winnings she has earned with her victory today. A pretty stack of coin, as you can imagine, for the king and queen shower rewards on those they favor and scourge those who anger them, do they not?”
Kalliarkos’s grandmother sits on a couch lavishly embroidered with vines and butterflies. The gold fabric of her gown proclaims her royal blood. Her hands are folded on her lap to display long nails painted in alternating red and orange. With a tap-tap-tap of her cane, she beckons.
But when Kal walks over to stand behind the couch, I hesitate.
“Spider!” Lord Gargaron’s caustic tone hits like a slap. “You cannot wish to insult Princess Berenise by refusing her summons, can you?”
I approach cautiously. She has the look of a person who has just opened a treasure chest and isn’t sure if the contents are precious or merely trash. Although she is a tiny woman, the weight of her regard presses me down to my knees before her. What she thinks of me I cannot guess as she measures me from the top of my scarf-covered head to the puddle of my jacket’s skirts on the floor around me. Even kneeling, I do not have to look up very far to meet her eyes, and then I realize I ought not to look such an exalted person in the face at all so I look away.
My glance falls again on Kalliarkos in time to catch him suppressing a smile, eyes crinkling as if he is inexplicably pleased by the meeting. I instantly know that he is remembering a joke he made comparing my ambition to that of his formidable grandmother.
For an instant or forever I can’t hear, as joy roars like wind through my flesh. However angry he is, I’m sure he doesn’t quite hate me. If I am putting this all behind me, then I shouldn’t care.
But, oh, I do care. I do.
“Spider,” says the old princess. I must wrench my attention back to her, for to snub her would be the stupidest thing I could do. “You have brought distinction on Garon Stable by leaping from Novice to Challenger in your first trial. I am pleased to present you with a full half share of the winnings.”
The gathered Patrons gasp at this shocking generosity, since usually only Illustrious receive a half share while lesser adversaries—Challengers and Novices—are glad to accept a quarter or tenth share respectively.
“The coin will be delivered to your trainers tomorrow. It is my recommendation as a businesswoman of some renown that you immediately deposit it in the Queen’s Bank for safekeeping.”
A general laugh greets this unexceptional statement, which of course is not advice but rather a command I can’t disobey. Her brilliant gaze flashes to Kal with a warning, for he is staring at me. I sense a light in his face that makes me tremble. Surely he knows my feelings for him haven’t changed.
She pitches her voice so that everyone can hear. “You were given your chance at the Fives as I promised, Kalliarkos. Now the gods will it that you take your turn with the army, like your noble and courageous father before you.”
He stiffens, shoulders tight, aware of the people watching and listening and judging.
“I wasn’t given a fair chance! I needed more time to train, like all real adversaries get,” he retorts in the voice of a spoiled lordling, exactly the sort of behavior I would have expected from a young man like Kalliarkos before I actually got to know him. Now his tone makes me cringe.
“Don’t be childish, Kal,” she r
eplies. To my horror, she turns to me. “What do you say, Spider? Would more training make a difference in my grandson’s prospects as a competitive adversary?”
I did not expect this deadly spin of the Rings—using me against him—but I won’t be bullied. “Of course more training makes a difference to any adversary’s chances in competition, Exalted Lady.”
Implacable, she goes on. “You didn’t answer my question, Spider. Only truth serves a prince. Else you are nothing more than a flattering courtier seeking preference and favor with false honey. Can he defeat you on the court? Yes, or no?”
“No,” I murmur in the hope only she will hear.
But everyone hears. Kalliarkos holds his ground, jaw rigid, chin high. Around us people cover their mouths to hide smiles and laughter as mortification deadens his face.
I wish my tongue had fallen out of my mouth before I was compelled to speak.
Lord Gargaron runs his lord’s whip through his fingers as he considers me kneeling on the hard floor.
“Here stand father and daughter under a roof where neither could ever have hoped to walk,” he says in a voice that flows as smoothly as oil. “Learn from their example, Kal.”
“What do you mean?” Kalliarkos glances from me to his uncle as if he is finally seeing the chain that links Gargaron to me.
“She cleverly used you to gain the attention of people who would not have looked at her otherwise. Now the whole city knows her name, just as General Esladas has reached the pinnacle of a distinguished military career, the only lowborn general in the Royal Army. You would do well to emulate father and daughter’s bold and cunning maneuvers. They have climbed the ladder of ambition without regard to what—or whom—they had to leave behind on their way up the victory tower.”
Shame burns in my heart as Kalliarkos studies the gold victor’s ribbon tied to my jacket, the most visible mark of my newfound success.
“Is that why you did it, Jessamy?” he asks in a low, hoarse voice.
“Of course not! I told you why!”
Lord Gargaron presses the whip to my cheek, the lash flicking against my mouth to sting me to silence. Kalliarkos sucks in a shocked breath. Father takes an abrupt step toward me.
“General, the tide turns at dawn,” says Gargaron with a brusque nod that stops Father in his tracks. “You and my nephew must be on the ship.”
“If I may be permitted one last word with my daughter, my lord.”
“No, you may not. It is time for you and Kalliarkos to leave. Efea is in mortal danger, however peaceful it may seem to us here in the royal city where life goes on as usual. War does not wait.”
Emotion shudders through Kal’s body as he struggles to accept his uncle’s pitiless words. He looks at his grandmother but she nods with cold finality, sealing his fate. At last he walks away, not looking back, just as I did not look back on the Fives court.
Father meets my gaze. All my life, every time he left home to go to the wars, I’ve known each farewell might be our last. I nod to let him know that I will fulfill my obligations, strive to excel, and protect my family. He nods back and follows Kalliarkos, two men headed for the dangers of an unpredictable war.
As I rise to follow, two guards step up on either side to block my path. Lord Gargaron has anticipated me.
Truth is the most brutal defeat of all.
This morning I thought I would be part of Kalliarkos’s life, that we would be together. I was so sure.
I was so wrong.
And now he is gone.
Lord Gargaron taps me with the whip. I am almost as tall as he is, but I feel small when he presses the hard leather knot up under my chin into my throat.
“What precisely you thought to accomplish by entering palace grounds that you are expressly forbidden from, I do not know, but do not pretend you came here to collect your winnings.” His whisper scalds terror right down to my bones. “You do him no favors by stoking a fire whose flames can only distract him when he marches into battle, as he will soon. He and your lauded father are leaving to fight, Jessamy. Never before in the history of Efea have the three old Saro kingdoms combined against us. If your father cannot defeat the invaders, then all Efea loses. If he does not win, he dies. If our army does not win, Kalliarkos dies. Is that what you want?”
“Of course not, my lord.” I dare not look away from his flat stare.
He adjusts the whip to prod so painfully that I can barely breathe. “Reflect on their urgent situation as you consider your own. You remain an adversary in Garon Stable on my sufferance. I have a great deal of prestige and money riding on your ability to make a swift climb up the Fives rankings and bring glory and applause to Garon Palace. The day you stop winning I will have my stewards send you to the mines where we send criminals to die in the bowels of the earth. Do you understand me, Jessamy? Win, or die.”
Whatever hatred boils in my heart, there is only one answer I can give.
“Yes, my lord.”
4
After the blare of the trumpet announces dawn, the adversaries of Garon Stable line up on the training ground for our morning practice. Trainees so inexperienced they have not yet run in public trials are called fledglings; they stand in the back ranks. Novices are the lowest of the three ranks of competing adversaries. They take their places in the second row, lined up in order of their number of victories. Out of respect they leave an empty space where Kalliarkos used to stand. Two days ago I stood at the end of their line because I was the newest and least experienced Novice, but after yesterday’s victory I am not sure where I belong.
Still, when my friends Mis and Dusty and Gira and Shorty nod encouragingly at me, I take my old place with them.
Dusty punches me on the shoulder.
Gira elbows me. “You’re looking taller today, like having a famous name stretched you out.”
Shorty falls in with the needling: “You need to work on your grip strength before you start getting cocky, Spider.”
I force my lips up in an answering grin because I am happy to be with them, I truly am, and I don’t want them to think otherwise. But I can’t rid my mind of the vision of Kal’s rigid back as he walked away. His grandmother knew exactly how to trap me into saying the one thing that would hurt him most.
Mis squeezes my hand as if she guesses what a turmoil my thoughts are in, and gratefully I squeeze back.
In the front row stand Challengers—Garon Stable only has four—and our sole Illustrious, Lord Thynos, who happens to be Kalliarkos’s actual uncle, unlike Gargaron, who is related to Kal through Princess Berenise’s marriage.
Our trainers, Darios and Tana, walk up and down the ranks, looking us over.
“Garon Stable had a good showing in the victory games yesterday,” says Darios. The old Patron man has spent his whole life involved in the Fives; what he does not know about trials and obstacles and Fives strategy could fit into a drinking cup. “Lord Thynos managed a solid finish, coming in second at his Illustrious trial. His strong performance gilds Garon Palace’s status at the Royal Court. As you naturally recall, our own Spider won the first Novice trial of the day.”
The others stamp their feet amid whistles and cheers. I try to keep my face expressionless but I can’t help but bask in their approval like a lizard in the sun. So gratifying!
Darios goes on. “By doing so she brings glory and honor to Garon Palace. As is customary, any Novice who wins a Novice trial at the Royal Fives Court immediately jumps to Challenger status even if she doesn’t yet have the ten victories usually required. Therefore, Spider, move forward to the front rank.”
Mis elbows me, and Dusty punches me on the shoulder again. All the impressed fledglings stamp enthusiastically a second time, for the newest trainees surely hope they will make such a sudden mark on the Fives as I have. Only one person in the fledgling ranks stares grimly straight ahead: the young woman named Talon. With her pale skin and straight black hair bound up in a topknot, she is the only girl of pure Patron ancestry I have ever
seen training for the Fives.
I take in a deep breath and walk forward. I am acquainted with Lord Thynos, of course. He has taken an interest in me because of my skill, and he also risked his life and his reputation to help Kalliarkos and me rescue my mother and sisters from the oracle’s tomb. He’s not my friend, but I think I can count him as an ally, someone who will help me find Bettany.
Darios goes on in a solemn voice. “As you all know, Lord Kalliarkos has left our ranks.”
Everyone glances at me, then away.
“Duty has called him to the defense of Efea against our most bitter foes, the armies of our ancient enemies from old Saro who have attacked our eastern borderlands. Let us offer a prayer. To Lord Seon, the Sun of Justice, that the gods’ will shall prevail. To Lord Judge Inkos, that the worthy receive their just reward. To Lady Hayiyin, Mistress of the Sea, that the wind and the waters favor the righteous.”
We answer in response: “The gods’ will shall prevail. The just shall receive their reward. The gods favor the righteous. As the gods will it, so will it be.”
But a dark fear washes through me. What if the gods will it that our army loses? What help can our prayers be then? Father always said to pray to the gods only after making sure all your preparations are sufficient to the task.
What if the gods will it that I lose? To protect my family I have to win because they need all the money I can funnel to them. To win I have to prepare. I have to keep my head in the game because the moment I lose focus I will be crushed.
Darios leads the entire stable of adversaries in the long warm-up known as menageries, a sequence of moves designed to make stronger and more flexible all parts of the body. It flows from one animal to the next: cat, ibis, elephant, snake, dog, falcon, bull, wasp, jackal, butterfly…
The butterfly is a soul given substance. I think of my mother. What if she isn’t recovering from the terrible events we barely survived? What if she is dying and I’m not there to help her?