Rook

by Robin Roseau

  “So it doesn’t matter you have to protect me from the intrigue at court?” I asked eventually.

  She stiffened for a moment, but then relaxed. “I do no such thing.” She paused. “That’s what Naddí, Féla, Larien, and Terél are for.”

  “And you, and Juleena, and Alta, and even Malta.”

  “Oh, definitely not Malta. She wanted to throw you right on in and watch what happened. She thought the sharks would bite a few times but was sure you’d bite right back. But I’ll point out I’m the one who made you take suitors.”

  “You’re also the one who sent the guards after me when I disappeared for a few days.” I sighed. “I suppose that’s an example of how I respond when sharks bite.”

  “Perhaps it was, but we both learned something from it, didn’t we? Yalla, you know, you’re as perfect for Juleena as anyone could ask. But now it’s my turn. Why did this come up?”

  I considered ducking the question. “Saroo and Alta know each other.”

  “So they do,” agreed Ralalta carefully. “Years ago.”

  “Eight years ago,” I said.

  “I’m pretty sure you were as surprised as I was, Yalla.”

  “Yes, but you didn’t go looking for your wife and overhear her conversation with her former lover.”

  “Ah. Tell me the rest, Yalla.”

  “I think I should talk to my wife about it first, Mother.”

  “You don’t want my advice?”

  “We’re fine. Alta chose Juleena and me. She loves me. She loves Juleena. She loves all our children. I didn’t come to our marriage with no experience, and they’re both older than I am. Of course they have history before me.”

  “But it can be hard to learn about it this way.”

  “It’s fine, Ralalta.”

  “Your questions weren’t about discovering they were past lovers. What did you overhear, Daughter?” She stressed the last word, using a tone that was difficult to ignore.

  “I think perhaps Saroo is bitter, and she has a casual relationship with honesty,” I said. “And I think my wife ended their relationship suddenly, and it was after we met. I’m rather surprised she found the time, given that we were together every evening. Do you suppose she sent a note?”

  “I find that quite unlike Alta, who has never struck me as someone to avoid a difficult task. Are you going to jump to conclusions?”

  “No. And ultimately it doesn’t matter.”

  “No, it doesn’t.”

  “But I don’t believe I’ll invite Saroo to future dinners.”

  Ralalta laughed. “Perhaps not.”

  * * * *

  They returned to the pavilion not long after, walking together but apart at the same time. My heart soared when I saw their body language. But they walked towards me, and Ralalta slipped away before they arrived.

  “There you are,” I said. “Have a nice walk?”

  “Quite lovely,” Saroo said brightly. “But I should be going.”

  “Let us walk you out,” I said. I collected her arm and then Alta’s, and the three of us turned for the road leading back to town. I said something about enjoying getting to meet her and other such simple phrases. A few minutes later we handed her into her carriage. Alta and I stood and watched her roll away.

  “So,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “Inviting your former lover to dinner. I had no idea.”

  She stiffened and then said, “Yalla-“

  “Shhh,” I said, my fingers on her lips. Then I leaned in and offered a quick kiss. “Ancient history.”

  “When did you figure it out? Did someone tell you?”

  “I think I should have guessed over dinner, but it wasn’t until later. I went looking for you.”

  “How much did you overhear?” Her voice was like a ghost.

  “Alta,” I said. I turned her to face me fully. “If you said anything you wish I hadn’t overheard, know that I didn’t hear it. And if she said anything I shouldn’t have overheard, don’t worry about it. But I have two questions, and I hope you’ll answer.”

  “I can try.”

  “Were you going to tell me?”

  “I was only looking for an opportunity.”

  “Does she have reason to be jealous?”

  “She thinks she does. I’d been trying to end things with her before we met.”

  “Did she know that?”

  “She was good at hiding from the facts.”

  “Did you ever tell her you didn’t want to see her anymore?”

  “Yes, but she was better at convincing me to reconsider than I was at standing up to her.”

  “So, I rescued you from her?” I offered a smile.

  “I suppose you did,” Alta said, returning the smile. “Yalla...” she trailed off.

  “I have two former lovers living in our household,” I said. “And then there’s my relationship with the Goddess. I don’t even know how to categorize that. We deal with Lady Malta quite often. And not once have you expressed jealousy or dismay. Either you’re very good at hiding it, or you’re just as confident in our relationship as I am.”

  “I love you so much,” she declared.

  “Good,” I said. I leaned in for another kiss. Then I took her hand and led her towards our tent.

  The Goddess was waiting for us. I brought us to a stop. Alta looked at me and then said, “Prestainamatta.” She smiled, slipped from my arm, and stepped past the Goddess. She opened the flap of our tent and said, “Did you care to join us?”

  I didn’t translate. The Goddess looked at Alta, holding the flap open, then turned to me. She smiled broadly before slipping inside the tent.

  * * * *

  Féla and Naddí were at breakfast. Alta, the Goddess, and I arrived together; I had an arm around each. Seeing my former maids, I brought the three of us to a stop for a moment but then stepped forward. “Good morning,” I announced. “I hope everyone slept well.”

  It was later, while I was saddling Zana for the Goddess, that I felt more than heard someone step up closely behind me. “Yallameenara.”

  I didn’t turn to her but continued to see to Zana. “How are you this morning, Féla?”

  “Not very good, Yalla.”

  At that, I turned to face her. She was biting her lip, which wasn’t something I’d ever seen her do before.

  “Do you hate me?” she asked.

  I opened my arms. “How could I possibly hate you, Féla?” I asked. She didn’t come to me right away, so I shook my arms a little to make my point. Féla stepped closer, but I had to reach out and pull her the rest of the way.

  She didn’t struggle, and she laid her head against me as we held each other.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Shh.”

  “I should have told you.”

  “You don’t owe me any explanations.”

  “For years I’ve thought about going back, and going back at the head of this troop would have been as close to perfect as could be.”

  “And?”

  “Going back at the head of this troop with my hair this color and the Goddess along would be the rest of perfect.”

  “And?”

  “I’m a runaway. I was ten and two when I left. This is the closest I’ve been since leaving, and no one even knew where I was for a decade.”

  “Why did you never tell me?”

  “My job is to protect you, Yalla. And that includes from my past.”

  “Perhaps,” I agreed. “But I have a job, too. My job is to nurture you. And if you need her help, to talk to the Goddess for you.”

  “She’s given me my greatest dream.” She reached up and fingered her hair. “I used to think she had a hand in how I reached Lopéna, how I came to be noticed by the queen. I used to think she had a hand in growing to love Naddí. It was the queen and Naddí that really saved me.”

  “Who did you meet yesterday? I know you didn’t go to Redlarik. You stayed in Garsínia’s Ferry.”
<
br />   “I confronted my mother.”

  “I bet that was difficult.”

  She started crying. I tightened my arms and silently called for the Goddess. She arrived in moments, and then she stood behind Féla, stroking her hair.

  “She’s here, isn’t she?” Féla whispered.

  “Yes.”

  “I can ease her pain,” said the Goddess. “Yalla, please tell her how much I love her, and how proud I am of her. She is a beautiful woman, inside and out.”

  I repeated that and delivered a kiss to a salty cheek.

  “Thank you, Prestainamatta,” she replied, speaking very carefully, still clutching tightly at me. “I love you, too.”

  I continued to hold her. The Goddess continued to stroke her hair. And slowly Féla relaxed.

  “Yalla, ask her why she didn’t ask us to go to Redlarik.”

  Once I had, Fela replied, “Because I was ashamed.”.

  “Ashamed of what? Do you think your family is any more poor than mine?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. She pushed away and looked into my eyes. “Of how I used to let them treat me? Of how much a coward I was? I ran away.”

  “You were ten and two.”

  “I’m not ten and two anymore.”

  “No, you’re not. But I don’t see any reason for you to be ashamed.”

  Then I translated everything for the Goddess. She nodded. “Yalla, I would like to visit Redlarik. Would you inform Mesenorié and Tradódid?”

  “Of course, Prestainamatta,” I said.

  * * * *

  We rode into the village. It could have been any of the minor villages in northern Alteara, with no particular reason for us to stop.

  Féla, the Goddess and I rode together at the front, and when the road widened, Tradódid, Mesenorié, and Ralalta clicked their own mounts so we were six across with Féla in the middle.

  We hadn’t been expected, of course, although the villagers would have seen us coming for miles. Many of them had turned out, even some from nearby farms. Still, our troop was far greater than the entire population of the little village. But they turned out, and they seemed to know who we were, or at least some of us.

  I heard one woman explain to her children, “That’s the king and queen. And that one is the High Priestess to the Goddess.”

  “Why isn’t anyone riding that horse?”

  “It’s a spare,” her mother replied.

  I held up a hand, and we all came to a stop. I lifted my voice and gestured. “This horse is not a spare,” I said. “Our Prestainamatta, the Goddess Yahamala, rides this mount.”

  “Yalla,” said the Goddess. “I do not wish to stop here, but there is a farm I wish to visit. We will visit with our beloved Féla’s family.”

  “Of course, Prestainamatta,” I said, then repeated her words, making sure I stressed “beloved Féla” when I said it, and I gestured to her besides. If anyone remembered her from her youth, I didn’t know and didn’t particularly care.

  It was the Goddess that led us, not Féla. But she rode her mount proudly, her head high, and only occasionally looking around. It was only perhaps a mile or so from the edge of town before we turned down a narrow farm road, one that saw so little traffic it wasn’t even rutted. We came to a stop in a typical farmyard, although this one wasn’t in the same level of repair as most of the farms I’d visited in either Framara or Alteara.

  Féla looked around but offered no comment.

  We’d been heard. A woman, perhaps Alta’s age or so, stepped out of the house. Then she yelled behind her. “Get your grandmother. Now!”

  A girl slipped out past the woman, stopped for a moment to stare at us, then barely avoided a swat across the back of her head. She took off in the direction of one of the fields.

  We dismounted. The Goddess stepped forward then held out her hands behind her. I grabbed Féla’s arm, and we stepped forward. I took a hand and then gestured Féla to the other side of the Goddess.

  “Féla,” said the Goddess. “Introduce me to your sister.”

  I translated, and the woman stepped closer. “Féla?”

  “Hello, sister,” Féla said, her tone flat. Then she switched languages. “Prestainamatta. This sister. Gerrílormerriét. Said Mer-mer. Sister. This Goddess Yahamala. This High Priestess Yallameenara.”

  It was Larien who stepped up and provided translations for the sister, who gawked at her sister. And then Mesenorié, Tradódid, and Ralalta were there.

  The sister, rather belatedly I thought, dropped into a deep but poor curtsey, her head down, but at least she had the grace to hold it.

  “Tell her to rise,” said the Goddess.

  “Féla,” I said in the same language. “Tell your sister to stand.” I spoke slowly and offered a small gesture. It was enough.

  “You may rise, Mer-mer,” Féla said.

  “This woman speaks no Framaran,” said the Goddess. “Provide informal introductions, but ask the people you introduce to show affection for Féla.”

  I nodded. “Mer-mer,” I said. “Perhaps you recognize King Tradódid and Queen Mesenorié.” Then I switched languages and said simply, “She wants you to show affection to Féla.” I didn’t bother with a formal introduction. They knew who she was.

  It was the Queen who stepped forward. She slipped an arm around Féla and said, “So this is your sister.” She cocked her head. “Your older sister.”

  “Ten years,” Féla said.

  Tradódid did things his own way. He stepped up behind Féla and set his hands on her shoulders, looking between Féla and Mesenorié. “You must be quite proud of your younger sister. She’s an amazing woman.”

  “Mother,” I said in Arrlottan. “You, too.” Then I switched back to Altearan. “Mer-mer, you probably do not recognize Queen Ralalta of Framara. She is like a mother to me.”

  The Goddess stepped sideways away from Féla, pushing me with her and leaving a gap for Ralalta. In turn, the queen stepped past Tradódid and added her arm around Féla. “Pleased to meet you, Gerrílormerriét,” said Ralalta. “Did you know Féla has lived in the palace in Marport for the last eight years? She has been a joyful addition to my household.”

  “What is this?”

  We turned, and an old woman was walking towards us, the girl following along behind her. “Who are all of you?”

  At a word from Tradódid, the guards parted sufficiently for the woman to see who was standing at her doorstep. She froze, and I was entirely unimpressed by the lack of a curtsey.

  “You just had to do it, Resaírelteena,” said the woman. “It wasn’t enough to show up in Garsínia’s Ferry with your hair and your fine clothes. You had to come here and lord it over all of us.”

  There was a collective intake of breath. The last time I’d heard someone use a tone like that to Mesenorié and Tradódid, it had been me.

  But it was the Goddess who said, “I do not care for this woman. Ask Naddí to put her in her place.”

  “Naddí,” I called out, continuing in Framaran. “The Goddess asks you to remind this woman who is on her doorstep, and do not be gentle.”

  Naddí stepped forward. “You stupid woman! Look around.” She pointed. “That is the royal guard of Alteara. Oh, but over there. Those are part of the royal guard of Framara. You just spoke in that tone to the rulers not only of your own country, but our good friends to the south as well.” Then she yelled. “I recommend a curtsey, and a damned good one, before you further offend your king and queen!”

  I’d seen all three of the monarchs refuse curtsies from women the age of Féla’s mother, but none of them said a word as the woman dropped down. She looked quite ridiculous actually, and I found it likely it was the first time in her life she’d ever knelt to anyone.

  “Did Naddí mention me?” The Goddess asked. “I didn’t hear the right words.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “No one is translating.”

  She squeezed my hand. “Tell Naddí I don’t wish to meet that women, but
I want to meet all the children.”

  I relayed that order, which Naddí seemed to enjoy repeating. “Start with that one,” she said. “You. Girl. Come here.”

  The girl didn’t seem to want to obey, but then Naddí said, “No one is going to hurt you, but the Goddess wishes to meet you.” Then she stepped forward and grabbed the girl by the hand and pulled her forward, coming to a stop a few paces before the assembled crowd.

  “My niece,” Féla said in soft Framaran. “I don’t know her name.”

  “Mer-mer,” I said. “Is this your daughter? What is her name?”

  “Charístaliét,” said the woman.

  “Go to her,” said the Goddess. “Bring Féla.”

  And so I stepped forward, collecting Féla on the way. We came to a stop in front of the girl, who was looking down at the ground. I knelt down, Féla beside me. Then I nudged my friend and nodded.

  “Do they call you Charí?” Féla asked. The girl nodded. “Do you know who I am?” She shook her head. “I’m your aunt. My name is Resaírelteena, but everyone calls me Féla.”

  The girl looked up. “I’ve never heard of you.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Féla said. She held her hands out. “Would you like to meet the Goddess?”

  “Goddess?” repeated the girl.

  The Goddess stepped forward and knelt down as well. I gestured. “Charí, you can’t see her, but she can see you. Her name is Yahamala, but you should call her Goddess or, if you decide you love her, Prestainamatta.”

  Then Larien was there, whispering translations, and I didn’t have to worry about it.

  “Hello. Um. Goddess?”

  “She doesn’t believe you. Tell her...” Yahamala trailed off. “Tell her to come with me.”

  She straightened and stepped away, walking towards the barn. I stood and said quickly, “Charí, the Goddess wants to show you something. Come.”

  I knew Féla and Naddí would see to the girl, and I hurried after the Goddess. We reached the barn, and I felt her magic work through me to open the door before we even arrived. There was a gasp behind us, but the Goddess stepped inside, and I followed.

  She led us to a storage room at the back of the barn, ignoring everything else. Again she opened a door, and then she pointed. “Pull that chest out.”