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by Robin Roseau


  That took little more than a gesture. When I turned, Ralalta had her own hood in place, and so the four of them approached. The Altearan royal family offered quizzical expressions, but I only said, “Please don’t unwrap my surprises prematurely.”

  “Of course not, High Priestess,” said the queen. I was sure she’d been considering just that very thing.

  It took a few minutes for two servants to help us all, but with our boots now lined up beside the door, and the worst of the mud brushed from our clothing, we stepped inside.

  We ended up using the ballroom. The other obvious rooms were either impossible to reach without treading across rugs, or were layered in rugs of their own. But it was stone in the entrance, and the floor of the ballroom was wood. All could be cleaned of any dirt we tracked in, and while the servants might not appreciate even that much work, it was far better than if we’d ground our mud into the carpets.

  Upon reaching the ballroom, Ralalta lined the girls up along one side, well clear of the Altearan royal family. Mesenorié, Tradódid, and Prodótar were clearly curious, but they let me do this my way.

  Alta stood to the side and smirked.

  “Let us start with the most unexpected of my surprises,” I said. “Lamarta, please step forward.”

  The tallest of the girls walked across the room and took my offered hand. I pulled her to my side, facing the king and queen, pleased that her hood still covered her head. Then I paused. “I’m sorry,” I said in Framaran. “This is the daughter of my original maid in Framara. She speaks little Altearan.”

  “The woman Queen Ralalta sent to you,” Mesenorié clarified, now also speaking Framaran.

  “Quite so,” I said. “Mellara gave birth to this girl only a few weeks after I returned to Marport six years ago. She was in court the day I arrived, and I found opportunity to bless her and the child she carried.” I felt a tear in my eye, remembering that day with pleasure. And then, with a squeeze of her hand, I stepped behind Lamarta and carefully pulled back her hood.

  “Oh, Good Goddess!” Mesenorié said immediately. “Oh my, oh my!” She smiled broadly, an expression soon matched on her husband and eldest offspring.

  “Lamarta,” I said. “I would like to introduce you to Queen Mesenorié and King Tradódid of Alteara, and their son, Crown Prince Prodótar.”

  “Am I supposed to curtsey?” she asked, sotto voce.

  “Yes, but briefly today.”

  The girl offered her curtsey and then looked at the floor.

  “What does this mean?” Prodótar asked.

  “That is a very good question,” I said. “And when I have an answer, I’ll tell you.”

  “Of course,” he replied. “This is good, yes?”

  “I believe it is very, very good, Prodótar, and the Goddess seemed pleased with herself when she spoke briefly to me.”

  The three nodded and then looked past me. “Four new priestesses?” Mesenorié asked.

  “Not exactly,” I said. I turned and held out my hand, returning to speaking Altearan. “Let’s go with the youngest next.”

  Nissi stepped forward. I didn’t feel the need to say anything. I moved her in front of me and pulled her hood back. “Nissi, you remember the king and queen.”

  She offered her own curtsey. “Grandmother. Grandfather. Hello, Uncle.” Her Altearan was impeccable.

  “Oh,” said the King. “On your birthday?”

  “Yes, Grandfather,” she said. “I’m going to be a priestess!”

  “We see that,” he said, offering a grandfatherly smile. Then he looked her over carefully. “How is your cloak clean but the rest of you is not.”

  “Um. I’m not supposed to say,” she said.

  “You’re not, hmm?” said the queen. “Well, give me a careful hug!”

  Nissi hugged her grandparents. She didn’t have a hugging relationship with her uncle, but he fingered her hair, smiling, but saying nothing.

  “Next,” I said.

  Mandi stepped forward. I couldn’t tell if they were surprised, but she got her own hugs, and there were a lot of smiles. “So I didn’t exactly bring four new future priestesses,” I said. “I brought a future priestess and two future high priestesses.”

  “I like your surprises, Yalla,” Mesenorié said. “And yet there remains one cloaked figure. Is this also a future priestess?”

  “Not exactly.” While we were talking, Ralalta stepped forward and waited. I chuckled and moved behind her, pulling her hood back. “A priestess, two high priestesses, and a queen of Framara.”

  “Surprise,” said Ralalta.

  The three of them stared; they stared for a long time. It was Tradódid who broke the silence. “Queen Ralalta. How... unexpected. If we had known...”

  “If you had known, the diplomats would have had to negotiate for months. My advisors, and I imagine some of yours, would have said, ‘It’s too soon’. Plots would hatch. We would have had to negotiate the size of my honor guard, and the discussion for every moment of every day.” Ralalta made a face. “It has been too many years since the three of us spoke face-to-face, and it is long since time that I visited the parents of my daughter-in-law. And most importantly, at least for me, I wish to meet the Goddess for myself. This is family business, and perhaps business for the high priestess, but I did not want a state visit. Am I welcome in your country?”

  “Protocol,” Prodótar began...

  “I invited her,” Alta said. “I am still a princess of Alteara.”

  “And Yalla’s agreement with the Goddess grants her the right to travel throughout Alteara freely, accompanied by whomever she wishes,” added Mesenorié, looking at her son. “Protocol is satisfied.” She turned back to Ralalta. “Yes, Ralalta. You are quite welcome.”

  “Well, that explains the size of the honor guard,” observed Tradódid.

  “Quite so,” said Ralalta. “And you can imagine Juleena was somewhat insistent.”

  * * * *

  As part of the negotiations between the two countries, six years ago I had been granted a title: Duchess of Indorítanda. This went along with my Framaran title, Duchess of Havenshade. I was rich, with both properties generating far more income than I knew how to use. I actually used very little for my own needs. Of the remainder, I allowed my advisors to reinvest much of the income, and I used the rest to advance the goals of the Goddess.

  Or that was how I put it, anyway.

  I have a point, and none of that was it, however.

  The Duchy of Indorítanda was vast, or so it felt like to me. Oh, on the maps, it appeared small, but it took hours to ride across my duchy, and these years later, I still hadn’t seen all of it. And within Indorítanda, I owned most of the land, although it was leased to tenants, and as long as they remained good stewards of the land they held and worked, neither I nor my managers interfered.

  And so while much of the land was mine, the portion of the duchy I really considered “mine” was much smaller and consisted of the manor home and surrounding farm as well as two other, smaller farms within the duchy. Each was devoted to raising horses.

  You can imagine how much that pleased me.

  But it all gets more confusing. To use the name Indorítanda, one could mean the entire duchy. Or one could mean the town that served as the heart of the duchy, or one could mean the manor home located just outside that town. It was through context that one would understand which one meant.

  And so, imagine Alteara. Locate Lopéna, the capital. If one looks at a map, one’s eye will be naturally drawn to the capital, as all roads led to Lopéna, it seemed. Travel south for two days, and a little east, and one finds a minor duchy named Indorítanda. If one were a bird, one would see green, rolling fields broken here and there by forests and the occasional village. In the summer, it was green and beautiful, with good rainfall and mild weather, perfect horse country.

  As the bird travels the rugged roads into the town of Indorítanda, one sees a small town like one might see anywhere, bisected by a
small river running to the southwest. If one traveled that small river far enough, it would eventually reach the river that defined the border to Framara, but it took its sweet, meandering time getting there.

  Indorítanda had one inn and two more pubs. There were shops and craftsmen and an open market. And two public bathhouses. I’d visited both.

  But that day, it was not the public bathhouses for us. No. We would receive private baths in the manor home while our traveling companions visited the public baths. And so I soon found myself in one of two bathing chambers. There were three tubs, and I held the center, Ralalta to one side of me and Alta to the other.

  Féla and Naddí saw to my needs, but the queen loaned us two more maids to see to Ralalta and Alta. Alta seemed to know them and chatted quietly with hers. Ralalta soaked, saying little, but she wore an expression of bliss as she let the hot water work its magic. When she did speak, it was in Arrlottan, her accent thick and barely recognizable, and so we both spoke slowly when using that language.

  “Whose idea was this?” she asked.

  “The bath?”

  “For me to travel like this?”

  “Mother,” I said. I’d been calling her that in private for years. “I am so sorry. We should have come by ship.”

  “I know how much you hate traveling at sea,” she said.

  “It is only a few days, but instead you are to spend two weeks on the road, each way.”

  “I would have had to spend half that inside Alteara, anyway,” she replied.

  “Do you wish you hadn’t come?”

  “No.”

  “What are you two talking about?” Alta asked.

  I reached over and squeezed her hand. “I am sure if we wanted you to know, we’d speak a language you knew.”

  “You’re being rude, my wife.”

  “I know. Tough.”

  She lowered her voice enough Ralalta probably wouldn’t hear. “Is she all right?”

  “She’s fine,” I said. “Oh, my, Naddí. That feels divine.”

  “I know,” said the little imp.

  “Do you wish you hadn’t come?” I asked Ralalta again, returning to Arrlottan. She’d already answered, but I didn’t think the conversation had reached conclusion.

  “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to do this again,” she said quietly. “I didn’t want to wait any longer.”

  “Well, I do not believe the Goddess will be satisfied only meeting you once,” I replied. “And so we will simply make arrangements of some sort or other.”

  “I’d like that,” said Ralalta. She switched to Altearan. “Please speak slowly, Yalla. What is she like?”

  It wasn’t the first time Ralalta had asked that, but to ask in Altearan was unexpected. But I noticed the borrowed maids turned their attention to me. I cocked my head. “I’ll answer that if the two of you can continue to see to their needs.” Then I leaned and whispered to Féla, “Ralalta hurts. Do you think you can help?”

  “Of course.” She slipped to the side and began directing Ralalta’s maid. The queen gave me a look, but then she closed her eyes and accepted the attention.

  “The Goddess,” I said. “I may not teach any of you her language, but there are some words I can teach you. Ralalta, you know some of those words.”

  “Prestainamatta,” Ralalta said. “Tell me what it means.”

  “It is the word for God or Goddess,” I said, “but it is a little like My Lady or My Lord. I may be Lady Yallameenara, but no one in Marport rightfully calls me My Lady.”

  “Only here,” Alta said. “And in Havenshade.”

  “Where is Havenshade?” asked Ralalta’s maid.

  “It is in Framara,” I said. “I am Duchess of Indorítanda here and Duchess of Havenshade there.”

  “Oh,” she said.

  “And so, Prestainamatta does not mean Goddess, but it means My Goddess, and it implies love and devotion. To me, it is the goddess I revere and hold in my heart.”

  “Prestainamatta,” Ralalta said. “Am I saying it properly?”

  “Probably better than I do,” I said with a smile. “The Goddess says I have a horrible accent.”

  “In Framaran, you have an enchanting accent,” Ralalta said.

  “You are very kind, Your Majesty,” I said, not believing her for one minute.

  “You do!” she insisted. “I cannot judge your accent in Altearan, however.”

  “Well, then,” I said. “We have five here who can. I cannot believe a single one would say my Altearan accent is enchanting, and the Goddess covers her ears when I speak her language.”

  “She does not!” said Alta with a grin. “I would not say your accent is enchanting, but I would say you are enchanting, and your voice is a part of that.”

  “Said her wife diplomatically,” said my mother-in-law, who I called Mother.

  “There are in total nine words that describe our devotion to the Goddess,” I said, returning to the earlier conversation. I listed them, saying the words in three languages, not only two. Of course, my household knew the words, and I thought these maids did, too, but I taught them carefully, anyway.

  “But I asked what the Goddess is like, and you teach me words,” complained Ralalta.

  “That is because to understand her, you need to understand these nine words,” I explained. “She is these nine words.” I paused. “Physically, she is beautiful. Perfect. Her skin is fair and without mark. Her hair is long and supple.”

  “Like yours,” Alta said.

  “Like mine ten times over,” I said. “Oh, not ten times the length, but it shimmers, and I don’t know how to describe how it feels to touch.”

  “You can touch her then,” said Ralalta.

  “Yes.”

  “And the other priestesses?”

  “No. Only me.” Then I smiled. “And perhaps my daughters. I guess I assumed. I shouldn’t assume.”

  “I think you can assume,” Alta said. “I am married to one high priestess and mother to another. Imagine that!”

  “Imagine that,” Ralalta said.

  “I want to point out, Alta,” I said, arching my eyebrow, “that you are mother to two others. Do not play favorites!”

  “You’re right!” she said quickly. “Oh, I can’t believe I said that!”

  “What else can you tell us?” Ralalta asked.

  “She is life,” I said. “And love.”

  “And a little lust,” Naddí added.

  “Yes,” I said with a laugh. “Perhaps more than a little. But perhaps that’s not something I should explain to my mother-in-law.”

  Alta snorted, and Ralalta flat out laughed. “Joy,” she said.

  “Yes. It is joy.”

  They kept me talking for a while, the maids growing increasingly brave.

  But I began to wind down about when I knew I couldn’t remain indolent much longer. But that was when Féla said, “Alta?”

  “Féla?”

  “Naddí and I have never asked a favor of you. Never.”

  “I am not sure that is true,” Alta said. “I believe you have asked me to pass the salt on more than one occasion.”

  “Alta.”

  “What did you want to ask, Féla?”

  “Do you think you could obtain one, or possibly two more maids while we remain in Alteara. I fear Naddí and I would be pulled too thin to see to all three of you.”

  She began to open her mouth, but then she saw Féla’s eyes glance at Mesenorié’s borrowed maids. “Oh,” said Alta. “Let me see what I can do.”

  “Ralalta,” I asked. “Will you remain here tomorrow, or will you tour Indorítanda with us?”

  “Oh, I will definitely take a tour,” said the queen. “Alta, do you know what your parents will do?”

  “They haven’t joined us here before,” Alta said. “But I imagine they’ll take as much of Yalla’s time as they can get.”

  “Well, I think I’ve been indolent as long as I can,” I declared. “I have children to check on and I s
uspect Mesenorié and Tradódid want to talk to me.”

  “Not to mention my brother,” Alta said. “Yalla, I’ll take care of the girls. You can see to your other duties.”

  * * * *

  We actually went together, dressing casually, gathering in the corridor, then finding the children. Larien and Terél joined us.

  All the acolytes were together, freshly scrubbed and in clean clothes. Mellara and Riesa, the girls’ nanny, were with them. They were seated in a circle, playing some game I didn’t recognize. I was impressed to see the older girls playing with the younger ones; Nissi was only freshly six years old, after all, and even Lamarta wasn’t yet nine.

  “They’re so young for this,” I said quietly to Larien. “Does the Goddess normally take them so young?”

  “Usually not at her age,” Larien said. “But she is very mature for six.”

  “She can’t expect me to leave them here, can she?”

  “You’ll have to ask her,” Larien replied. “I don’t think we can make decisions based on how we used to do things.”

  We stood and watched the children for a minute or two. They noticed us, but continued their game.

  “Give me a minute,” Alta said. She stepped past us and then leaned down behind Mellara. She spoke briefly then returned to me. “Everything here is handled. Mellara knows where we’ll be if we’re needed.”

  I smiled, warmed. I had missed the way Mellara used to take care of me, and now, at least for a little while, she was back.

  That felt good. I let my wife take my arm, and we led the way through the home.

  One of the servants told us where to find Mesenorié and Tradódid, waiting in the parlor. When we arrived, they stood. “Oh, so much better,” Mesenorié said. “Now I can have proper hugs and kisses.”

  We crossed the room and shared those very hugs and kisses. Over the years, I had finished forgiving nearly everyone for my initial arrival in Alteara, and my in-laws treated me very well. I couldn’t say I loved them, but I liked them and had grown very comfortable. And I thought they might love me, possibly even Prodótar, although of him, I wasn’t sure. And so, hugs and kisses were passed around, even a little peck with Prodótar, which always amused Alta.

 

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