Bishop (The Pawn Series Book 2)

by Robin Roseau

  "I'm not. I understand your honor guard is somewhat larger than I wanted. I suppose they're for you, not me."

  "They won't impede us. I'm sorry, but it's mixed gender, and they're all in uniform. Father was feeling protective. Of both of us, I’ll add."

  "It's fine," I said.

  "You didn't really need a guide.”

  "No, but I am happy to meet." I paused. "Oh no, I am a terrible diplomat. I haven't provided introductions."

  She smiled. "I know... Larien." She hesitated before saying the name, and I was sure I knew why.

  "You know her by another name."

  "That is her name now. Terélmarestra and I have met."

  "I must tell you, Princess, that I go nowhere without the immediate members of my household."

  "Of course. It is to be the six of us."

  "I'm glad you understand."

  "Actually, I have a little business I must perform before we go anywhere. First," and then she reached to her belt and withdrew a purse from inside a larger pouch. She held it out to me. "Modest Altearan funds." I took it from her and she continued, "You should quietly ask, outside of my hearing, whether the shopkeeper prefers Framaran crowns. Most will, as long as the guards aren't watching. Some will be too nervous. If this isn't sufficient, I have more."

  I opened the purse and looked into it. "How much do I owe you?"

  "This is a gift."

  "Princess-" But she held up a hand.

  "Can we drop titles? And if I could call you Yalla, you could call me Alta."

  "Alta," I said. "That is easier."

  "As for the purse. It's a modest amount. At old exchange rates, it is the equivalent of about forty Framaran crowns. It's not worth that now. We've had inflation. And it is a gift."

  "I'll pay you," I said. "At the old exchange rate."

  "I'd rather you didn't. Frankly, it's a diplomatic nightmare. We would be forced to officially recognize the difference in exchange rates. Please don't."

  "If I accept this, it is an equal diplomatic nightmare."

  "No. If it were a significant amount, maybe you would be right. This is a personal gift from me, but if you feel uncomfortable about it, you can buy lunch for us. I can direct us somewhere that will happily accept your crowns."

  "I will ask Lady Margaletta about this," I said, "and if she asks, I will reimburse you forty Framaran crowns. Either way, thank you."

  She smiled. "You are welcome. I have a one more item. Do you mind if I address your maids? I saw Resaírelteena in the hallway."

  "Not at all. But who is Resaírelteena?"

  "She means Féla," Naddí offered.

  "Ah, yes. You learned comfortable names before you learned our language," said the Princess. "Yes. I would speak with Naddiqualestra and Resaírelteena."

  "We'll step out and wait in the foyer."

  "I'd rather you stayed, High Priestess."

  "Oh, it is one of those conversations," I said. "Of course."

  The princess turned to the doorway. Naddí must have summoned Féla, as both of them stood near the doorway. At a gesture from Alta, they stepped forward and curtsied to her, holding it.

  "Get up," she said. "Mother was most displeased by your last letter to her."

  They stood to attention, but neither of them said a word.

  "Since, but only in private, she has admitted the two of you did the right thing, as vexed as she might be about it. She is pleased the High Priestess has such loyal care as the two of you offer."

  I snorted. "Loyal care. I've seen them fight, Alta."

  She glanced at me. "Good. But do you know not to rely on them too openly? They are your last line of defense, not your first, and certainly not your only."

  "It hasn't come up," I said. I smiled. "But I did accept an honor guard."

  "Yes, but you wanted them subtle. These two are subtle. Do you see?"

  "I thought I was universally loved." I said it with an imperious air and hoped she realized I was making a joke.

  "There are always those who covet power," she said. "Surely you know that."

  "I suppose I do. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt."

  "That's fine. I was done." She smiled. "Were you ready to go?"

  * * * *

  We had a lovely day. I did what I could to ignore the stares, some for me, Larien, and Terél, some for the princess. The shopkeepers were all very polite. My Framaran crowns seemed to go further than I thought they should, and it seemed I wasn't expected to bargain, as all the quoted prices were lower than I would have paid after hard bargaining in Marport. I quietly asked the princess if they were losing money selling to the high priestess.

  "No," she said. "You are being given very good prices, but they are fair for both of you. No one in Alteara tries to bargain with a priestess. You are offered the best price they can offer, although perhaps your crowns are more coveted than even I realized. I am forced to pay in cartas."

  Shopping in Lopéna was quite different than Marport. In Marport, there were shopping districts and streets lined with a wide variety of stores. But due to the colder climate, Lopéna’s shopping areas, or at least the ones we visited, were enclosed. Oh, they were still streets, but it was as if the roofs between buildings were connected, one roof to the next, with large windows in the ceiling to let in the light. It was still cold, as it would be impossible to heat such a large space, but it was protected from the wind and elements, and so we required no more clothing than we would need in Marport during the winter.

  As Alta had promised, the guards were no impediment, excepting incidental if I were to make a sudden change of direction. I went where I wished and saw what I wished. But I wasn’t sure the shopkeepers necessarily appreciated them, as the guards preferred to empty a shop before letting either Alta or me enter.

  The third time they did it, I complained to Alta. "The merchants will hate us."

  She gestured in our wake, and I saw a stream of people entering the shop we had just left. "I think you might be wrong."

  "I don't understand."

  "The high priestess was just there," she said. "She touched things. Our train has grown since we arrived. You didn't notice?"

  "No. They're not buying things just because I touched them!"

  Alta laughed. "They might be. Or maybe they're just looking. But I don't think the shopkeepers can complain of our presence."

  "Does this happen every time you come here?"

  "Sometimes, but not like this," she said. "This is for you, not me."

  "It's ridiculous. You know that, right?"

  "No, I don't know that."

  "The Goddess isn't going to bless someone just because she bought something I just touched."

  "No, but when someone comes home and says, 'The high priestess held this', she has stories to tell."

  "Ridiculous stories."

  "Perhaps so. But you can't stop it, so you may as well accept it."

  "And not worry about it."

  "Worry about the things you can control," she said.

  "Good advice," I agreed.

  It wasn't until we sat for lunch that I grew vexed with the guards. We were seated outside, so to speak, still protected from the elements and with a fire beside us for warmth. The guards set up positions around us, giving the six of us privacy. It took perhaps fifteen minutes before I realized they also were keeping the tables nearest us empty, and also preventing anyone from coming too close.

  It wasn't until they tried to send a mother with two young daughters away that I decided to do something about it. "Do they have to do that?" I gestured, and Alta followed my gaze.

  "If they don't, we'll be mobbed."

  "They're only curious."

  "They all want to touch you, Yalla. How would you feel about that? Wait; don't tell me. Ridiculous, right?"

  "Well, yes, but I've met the Goddess. I think I understand. Larien, if Alta doesn't stop you, will you go invite that mother and little girls over? Or is that a bad idea?"

  "I
think it's a lovely idea," Terél said. "We can go together, Larien."

  The two stood up, and then they hurried as the mother turned away and began to withdraw, pulling a child by each hand. The guards didn't try to stop Terél and Larien, and I watched as they moved through the line of guards and past the woman before kneeling down, one before each of the girls.

  "Have I upset you?"

  "Of course not," she replied. "Surprised. I was given to believe you didn't care for this kind of attention."

  "They're children," I said. "And..." I trailed off, considering. "I don't know what I should be doing, Alta. Did your parents tell you what happened in the Heart of the Goddess?"

  "Yes."

  "I don't know if I really believed. Oh, part of me did. But until my hair grew, and the Goddess was there before me, I don't know if I really believed. I don't know what to do now."

  She said nothing as we watched Terél and Larien hold out their arms to the little girls. A moment later they both stood, each of them holding a little girl, and when they began walking towards me, the mother turned, and I saw her expression.

  "Alta," I whispered. "She's crying. Why is she crying?"

  "I can make guesses, Yalla," the princess replied. "Two of your priestesses are carrying her daughters to meet the high priestess. This can't be any more surprising than Mother kissing your feet."

  "I suppose not."

  "Wait; don't tell me. Ridiculous."

  "Yes."

  But then Larien and Terél approached, each holding a girl. They were young, perhaps five, one a year older, or perhaps the other a year younger. They each had curly, brown hair, not quite tamed by a headband, and cute, little dresses.

  "They're darling," I said. Then I rose, and the princess with me. We turned to the girls, and everyone came to a stop.

  "High Priestess," Terél said. "This little girl is Marr. She is four and a half years old."

  I stepped closer. "Hello, Marr." I held out my arms, and Terél transferred the girl to me. She hugged me tightly but seemed to have suddenly turned shy, as she said nothing, and she buried her face against my shoulder. But I held her for a long hug before setting her on her feet. Terél was immediately ready to take the girl's hand.

  "This is Deela," Larien said.

  "I'm six!" the girl said. "Down please."

  Larien set Deela on her feet, and she ran to me and hugged me tightly. I hugged her back as best I could. But then she released me and ran to her mother, grabbing one hand.

  "Princess Lásenalta," I said. "These little girls are Marr and Deela."

  "I heard," said Alta. I could hear the smile in her voice. "But they are here for you, not me."

  I nodded and turned to the mother, stepping up to her. She brushed her tears away. "I'm new at this," I told her. "What do I call you?"

  "Parameníalarteen," she said. Or something like that.

  Behind me, my household chuckled. It was Féla who said, "She's never going to remember that."

  "Oh," said the woman. "I am sorry." She started to stammer, but I put my hand on her arm.

  "Is there something shorter I can use?" I asked. "I know, I shouldn't comment on the length of Altearan names, as mine is Yallameenara."

  "Nía," said the woman. "You could call me Nía."

  "Nía," I said. I took her hand and held it. "Your daughters are beautiful." Then she took her hand back and covered her mouth. "I didn't curtsey. You said. But."

  "Nía," I said gently. I took her hand back. "We weren't quite finished with our lunch, but we can pull another table over and shift around. Have you eaten? Are you in a hurry?"

  "We couldn't."

  "Nonsense, unless you are on a schedule." I pulled her towards the table, and I didn't have to do more than that before the maids had summoned two of the guards, and the four of them had a lengthened table arranged before I could say another word. I headed for a seat, and the remnants of my meal were shifted for me. I kept the woman with me. Larien and Terél took the girls to the other side of the table, the four of them facing the two of us, and everyone else settled in. In another instant, the server returned. "Nía, have you eaten? The stew is wonderful, but I do not know what young children of Alteara eat."

  "We have child portions," the server said immediately, "and served at a more gentle temperature."

  "Mama, I want..." and then Deela used a word I didn't know.

  "I do, too, Mama," said Marr.

  "High Priestess."

  "I won't insist, Nía, but if you have time, you are welcome."

  "But you- And the princess-"

  "Don't mind me," said the princess. "I'm here to spy on the High Priestess and am fascinated by what happens next."

  "Alta!" I complained. In response, she simply laughed. "She's nervous enough already, you know."

  "She's fine," said Alta. "The stew is good, and the bread is fresh."

  "Then... Stew," said Nía. "And bread." She spoke to the server for a moment longer before he departed.

  "What is it the children asked for?"

  Nía used the word again. "It is. To drink."

  "Lora juice," Naddí provided for me in Framaran.

  "Oh," I said. I barely avoided making a face. I turned to the girls. "When I first came to Framara, Princess Juleena made me drink lora juice." I said those last words in Framaran. "Um. Could you say it again?" I learned the word. "I had never had it before, of course. I hadn't even heard of it before. Can you imagine?"

  The girls' eyes grew wide, perhaps wondering how anyone could not have had lora juice before.

  I talked to the girls for a few minutes, trying to make conversation with a girl of six and another only four and a half. But then the meal arrived, and it felt safe to return my attention to my own food. We all ate quietly for a while, and I was impressed at how well behaved the girls were, although Terél and Larien both helped them from time to time, especially ensuring glasses of lora juice were not perched precariously at the edge of the table.

  "Well," I said after a few minutes. "Nía, will you tell me a little about yourself?"

  She took a moment to finish what she was eating and asked, "What did you wish to know, High Priestess?"

  "Well, I suppose we begin with the basics. Are you married? To a man or woman? What do you do? What does he or she do? What do your parents do? We can go from there."

  "You want to know all that?"

  "Is it all a secret?" I asked. "I am about to turn twenty and one years old. I am not married, but Princess Juleena has asked permission to court me. She is, well, the princess, and she has complex duties I don't fully understand. I am the queen's foster daughter, so I have my own duties for the queen and for the princess, and I am learning what it means to be the high priestess." I smiled and thought. "Oh. My parents. My father is of the horse people, and my family lives upon The Hippa, members of the nomadic tribes."

  Nía stared at me, saying nothing. It was Marr who asked, "What does no-no-no..."

  "Nomadic?" I prompted, and she nodded. "It means we don't have towns or villages, or even farm houses. Instead, we live in homes that we pack up each morning and carry with us."

  Their eyes grew wide again. "You can't do that!"

  "It is like..." I sighed. "Another word I don't know. Can one of you explain?" And so Larien explained the Arrlottan huts for me. The girls listened to her and turned back to me. I nodded. "You see? It is hard work, but if we're in a hurry, we can pack everything we own and be gone in less than a half hour."

  "You're serious, aren't you?" Alta whispered into my ear. At that, I nodded. "I'd like to know more, later."

  "Later," I agreed.

  "So, Nía. That's me in a nutshell."

  "I-" she stammered. "I'm not married. I had a, well, rebellious period."

  "Ah. Do they know their father?"

  "No. He decided two children was at least one too many."

  "I'm sorry."

  "I'm not. My parents welcomed us back. We were lucky." Then she laughed. "I
think they were lucky, too. I'm better with numbers than Father."

  "What do they do?"

  "Mother and Father were tailors," she said. "Now we have tailors who work for us. Mother still does the designs. Father more directly oversees the tailors. My younger sister manages the storefront, with a little help from me and two cousins."

  "And you do the books."

  "And I do the books," she agreed.

  "What kind of clothing?"

  "We mostly serve the working classes," she said. "Or very casual clothing for the upper classes. It's all off the rack. We don't do custom clothing."

  "It sounds like a good business," I said.

  "Times are difficult," she said. "But yes. It is a good business."

  "I used to make my own clothing," I said. "Nothing as well crafted as you are wearing now."

  "You were a tailor?"

  "On, no," I replied. "I wouldn't put it that way. I would say that a girl of the horse people must see to the needs of her family, including skinning the animals, curing the hides, and then turning those hides into clothing. We used bits of bone for needles and..." I didn't know the word for sinew. "Um. We made thread from other parts of the animals we hunted."

  She lowered her head. "It sounds like I shouldn't complain about life being hard."

  "Life everywhere is hard. Life on The Hippa is hard. Life in Framara is also hard. It is only a different type of hard. Is life in Alteara always hard, or is it only recently?"

  "Recently," she whispered. "Since..."

  "Will you tell me?" I asked quietly.

  She glanced past me at the princess. I didn't look over at her, so I don't know what signal was given, if any, but Alta didn't actually say anything.

  "We are not as rich as Framara," Nía said. "We can buy the supplies we need, but they are more expensive, and there are shortages. And that's true of almost everything. So everyone feels it. People wear their clothing longer, so business is down, and they bargain harder. We have to work longer hours for fewer sales."

  "I think I understand," I said. "I cannot predict the future, but I have asked the monarchs of both our countries to please try to heal this rift between friends. It may take time." I paused. "Do you know how I first came to Alteara?"

  "Everyone knows," she said. "Queen Ralalta wouldn't let you come, so you snuck away aboard one of our ships."