by James Evans
Banks stared at her, frowning.
“Truly? You’re searching for your husband?”
“I am,” said Adrava, tight-lipped and with furrowed brow, “that part of the story is true. And I have been at the seminary in Esterengel for a year and a half.”
She stopped again, while she thought about how much more she wanted to say.
“I want to trust you, Mistress Banks, I really do, but life has taught me to be cautious and I don’t want to endanger you, or me, by telling you too much. Can I trust you?”
“Call me Marjorie. And yes, you can trust me, not that I can imagine anyone would ever think to ask me about you in the first place.”
Adrava reached a decision. She held out her hand and lowered her guard.
“Take my hand, Marjorie,” she said, “and gauge my power.”
Banks reached out, her hand hovering uncertainly above Adrava's for a few seconds, then she closed her eyes and touched Adrava's palm. Her eyes jerked open immediately and she snatched her hand away. She stared at Adrava, shock showing on her face.
“And now you know one of my secrets,” said Adrava, restoring her guard and withdrawing her hand, “don’t try to guess my name, don’t speculate about my identity, don’t even think about trying to find out who my husband is. Trust me, ignorance is bliss.”
“Such talent,” said Banks in a hushed tone, “is very rare. You have a high station within the Empire, I think.”
Adrava snorted.
“Hah, I wish. Talent takes you only so far, unfortunately. But you were right about me not being a priest. It’s a convenient story to fool the Shorts, to divert attention from a young woman travelling alone, nothing more.”
Banks sat back in her chair, staring at Adrava with new eyes. Now that she knew how strongly talented Adrava was the rest of the picture made more sense.
“Not a priest. No. A soldier, maybe?” Banks searched for confirmation in Adrava's face but it was cold and stony, almost unmoving.
“Yes, I think you were a soldier. That would explain the bracers on your arms - they show, sometimes, when your sleeves catch in the breeze.”
Adrava was still for a few seconds then she nodded.
“Yes, a soldier. A general, even, and a good one.”
Neither of them spoke for a minute or so.
“Well,” said Banks, breaking the silence, “whatever your past, you’ve been nothing but polite and friendly toward me. I will trust that you know your business and that, if it becomes appropriate, you’ll share with me what you’re comfortable to share. Until then, let us be friends and I will keep your secrets.” She held out her hand. Adrava looked at it for a few seconds then relaxed. She smiled and took the proffered hand. They shook then Banks said, “And now more wine, I think,” filling their glasses, “and a toast. To absent husbands; may they get all that they deserve for the pains and difficulties they cause us.”
Adrava raised her glass with a smile.
“To absent husbands. And I promise, by all that is sacred and holy, that I will find mine and teach him the true meaning of pain.”
They drank then filled their glasses and drank again. Then, as the barge’s bell tolled nine o’clock, they talked and laughed and shared harmless stories of youth and lovers and desire and betrayal as the barge sailed ever southward.
The next morning Adrava was woken by the ship’s bell at mid-morning. Not normally one to sleep late, she sat up in bed then put her hand to her head, leaning against the bed frame to steady herself. Ah yes, she remembered, she had sat late into the night drinking wine and then brandy with Banks. Her head pounded and her stomach heaved as she stood and climbed slowly up onto the deck. Banks was at the wheel and she waved as Adrava emerged from below deck and stood, blinking uncomfortably in the sunlight. Adrava made her way carefully along the deck and climbed to the poop before leaning against the rail.
“I think the brandy may have disagreed with me,” she said, shading her eyes against the sun.
“Hah,” said Banks, “I’m not sure it was the brandy but it might have been the fortified wine we drank when the brandy ran out.”
Adrava groaned, her head sinking into her hands.
“Did I do anything embarrassing?”
Banks laughed.
“Not really, although I did like your ideas for handling Blucher’s bodyguard, the younger one,” she said, nodding down the deck to where the bodyguards were dicing, lying on coiled ropes, “if only I was a little younger I might be tempted to try some of those ideas myself, although I’m not as supple as I used to be.” She laughed again, and then harder as Adrava groaned and clutched at her aching head.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. And there are only a few hours now till we reach Vensille. We’ll see the smoke soon and by this afternoon you’ll be safely on land again.”
Adrava decided that standing was too much effort and slid to the deck, her back against the railing. Banks looked down at her as Adrava stretched her neck and rubbed her temples, trying to shift the ache in her skull.
“Oh gods, it feels like someone’s trying to crush my skull from the inside. How are you still functioning?”
Banks, with the indifference traditional of a drinking partner not afflicted by a hangover, just laughed harder and raised her voice.
“A little more wine, maybe? Hair of the dog?”
Adrava shook her head and immediately regretted it. Banks hooted with laughter as Adrava groaned again and laid her head against her knees.
Eventually Adrava raised her head and leant it gently against the railings, her eyes closed.
“How will you find your husband?” said Banks in a bid to restart the conversation, “Vensille is a big city - it might not be easy to find one man amongst so many.”
Adrava blew a deep breath out through pursed lips in an effort to stave of the nausea, then said,
“Charm shops. He makes charms, he’ll need supplies. I’ll visit the charm shops and ask after him.”
“And you think one of them will recognise his description?”
“Oh yes. A good-looking Imperial citizen, dark hair, tall, heavyset, possibly carrying a staff of some sort. Someone will know him, sooner or later. He’s likely to stand out from the crowd. I’ll find him.” She sounded confident and determined but Banks was sceptical.
“Hmm. Sounds a bit vague, that description, but maybe you’re right, maybe someone will know him from it. Are you planning to lodge with Blucher?”
“Only for a few days, till I have a feel for the city.”
Banks didn’t seem to like that very much. She twitched the wheel round a few points and scowled at a man who waved as he guided his small boat upstream.
“You need to be careful around Blucher. Don’t underestimate him; he is more dangerous than he seems and well connected. With the Palace, I mean.”
“With the Palace? You mean the Duke?”
“No, not the Duke,” said Banks, shaking her head, “but he has friends amongst the nobles and the Duke’s advisers, or so he says. He supplies them with charms and materials from the north - metals, jewels, that sort of thing - and they look out for him.”
“I’m surprised they’d deal with him.”
“He says it’s all about the presentation, the mystery, the extravagance. I have no idea what that means nor why he travels himself rather than relying on agents like other dealers, but he’s undeniably successful.”
“Well, anyway. I’ll only be staying with him for three or four days, maybe fewer if I find my husband quickly. And I can look after myself,” she said, rapping the bracer on her left arm against the railing, “these aren’t the only charms I carry.”
“Just be careful,” said Banks, concern showing on her face, “Blucher may think he’s getting more from the deal than you want to offer.”
Banks looked down at Adrava where she sat on the deck.
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes,” Adrava sighed, “I know what you mean. I
’ll be careful.” She dragged herself to her feet and leant over the railing to look at the water.
“How much longer to Vensille?” she asked over her shoulder.
Banks looked around, taking her bearings.
“A few hours, maybe four, depending on the traffic as we get close to the city.”
“Then I think I’ll go and pack my stuff, check on String. Maybe throw up a couple of times.”
A few hours later the Golden Rose docked in Vensille and Adrava, now much recovered, was able to walk String down the gangplank to the wharf where Blucher and his bodyguards were waiting. Adrava turned and nodded to Banks, who was leaning against the deck railing. Banks nodded back and then watched as Adrava led String through the crowds, following Blucher.
As promised, a coach was waiting on the wharf and Blucher held the door open for Adrava.
“It is a short walk to my home,” said Blucher, climbing into the coach and pulling the door closed, “but I prefer to ride in comfort rather than walk the streets. My man will look after your horse and I will look after you.”
He smiled at her from the opposite seat as the coach set off slowly through the streets. After only a few minutes they reached a large and imposing house on the edge of a small square. One of the bodyguards took String to the stables through a gate at the side of the house while Blucher held out his hand to help Adrava down from the coach then walked her in through the front door.
“Welcome to my humble home,” said Blucher, waving his arm at the far from humble stairs and entrance hall, “please make yourself at home.” A short woman in her mid-forties wearing a long white apron appeared from the far end of the hallway.
“And this is Flince, my housekeeper.”
“Welcome home, sir.”
“Thank you, Flince, thank you. Miss Naseep here will be staying with us for a few days. Can you prepare a room please and have her bags taken up?”
“Very good, sir.” Her face suggested that her actual feelings were less complimentary but Blucher didn’t seem to notice.
“Good. Miss Naseep,” said Blucher, taking her hand and trying not to leer, “I trust you will join me for dinner? If there is anything you need in the meantime please ask Flince but now, I’m afraid, I have things to do.” He kissed her hand and then left quickly, heading through the doors on the left-hand side of the stairs and disappearing into what looked a like a large study.
“If you’ll follow me, miss,” said Flince, picking up Adrava's bags, “I’ll take you to your room.”
“That’s very kind of you Mrs Flince, thank you,” said Adrava, struggling a little to keep her voice steady and priest-like now that she had finally reached Vensille. All she wanted to do was look for Marrinek but she needed somewhere to stay and so she had to play the part of the vulnerable priestess for just a little longer, much to her annoyance.
“Just Flince, miss, just Flince” said the housekeeper, leading Adrava up two flights of stairs to a modest room on the second floor, overlooking the street.
“This will be your room, miss. You can ring the bell if you need anything. The gong will sound for dinner and there is a sitting room on the ground floor opposite the master’s library where you can take tea in a little while, if it pleases you.”
“Thank you, Flince, and may the gods bless you for taking me in like this. I can manage my bags, thank you.”
Flince pursed her lips a little but said nothing; clearly she was used to dealing with her master’s guests but didn’t like them to be quite so young.
As soon as she was alone Adrava searched the room. She assumed, after Banks’ warnings, that Blucher would watch her secretly if he could but she found no spy holes or hidden doors. She unpacked her clothes putting some away in the drawers and leaving others on the chair for laundry.
Her charms she kept hidden under her clothes. Blucher might not be able to use them but she didn’t want him to know that she possessed them. Finally, happy that there was no immediate danger and that her possessions were safely stowed, she went downstairs to the sitting room. A few minutes later, Flince appeared with a tray of tea and some small muffins.
Dinner was a dull affair. Adrava and Blucher were the only diners and although the food was good Blucher’s stories and boasts quickly became annoying and Adrava found her mind wandering until she realised he had stopped speaking and was staring at her expectantly.
“I’m so sorry, Mr Blucher, what did you say?” said Adrava, smiling apologetically.
“You said that you were coming to Vensille to meet with some family. Cousins, I think. Do you have an address?”
Adrava froze, thinking furiously. She had forgotten the easy lie told over dinner a few nights before about her reasons for travelling to Vensille. Blucher, evidently, had not.
“Yes. That is to say, no. What I mean is that I am not really here to visit family,” she dropped her eyes to her plate and said in a quiet voice, “I am having doubts about the priesthood.”
“Doubts, Miss Naseep? About taking your vows?” She nodded, keeping her eyes lowered.
“And so you’ve run away from the seminary? Trying to see a bit of the world, eh?”
She looked up at him, her face contorted into a perfect display of youthful confusion.
“I’m just not sure I can say the words and follow the teachings. I don’t know what to do.” She trembled her lips as if about to burst into tears.
Blucher reached across the table to hold her hand.
“Don’t worry, my dear. You can stay here for as long as you need.” He smiled and Adrava was reminded of a great cat she had seen once in a menagerie in Esterengel; Blucher’s face and smile seemed friendly but his eyes were gleeful and victorious and she found that she really didn’t trust him.
Despite that, she forced her face into a smile as if trying bravely to hold herself together and thanked Blucher for his offer and for his friendship and hospitality.
Their conversation continued a little longer as Blucher spoke about the great sights and buildings of the city and the part he had played in the extension of their grandeur but when Adrava stifled a yawn behind her hand he took the hint.
“It was a long voyage and it has been a long day and I have kept you too long from your rest. Please, forgive me. We can talk again tomorrow at dinner but I fear I will be away for much of the day on business. Do make the house your own and ask Flince for anything you might need.”
Adrava smiled at him as they walked the length of the dining room and across the hallway to the stairs.
“I wonder if Flince could recommend a dressmaker? I have only the robes I travelled in and if I am not to take my vows it seems, well, wrong, to wear them.”
Blucher waved his hands as if pushing her concerns aside.
“We’ll have a dressmaker here tomorrow morning to fit you for the latest styles. I will arrange it with Flince.”
“That’s so very kind of you, thank you. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve such a friend.”
Blucher smiled again but his eyes were predatory.
“Think nothing of it. I myself have business to attend to tomorrow but I trust we will dine again in the evening?”
“I would like that very much, yes.”
“Excellent, then I bid you goodnight.” He kissed her hand and stood watching from the hallway as she climbed the stairs and passed from sight.
In her room Adrava shuddered at the thought of spending more time in Blucher’s company. He clearly had certain expectations and it was only a matter of time before he pressed them, at which point things would became unpleasant. The door to her room had no lock so she wedged a piece of kindling from the fireplace under the door and balanced an upside-down chair against the handle. Then she washed and prepared for bed before finally crawling between the sheets.
Sometime later - she wasn’t sure exactly how long - she was woken by the clattering of the chair as it fell from its precarious perch against the door handle.
“Hello,” s
he said, sitting up in bed, “is someone there?”
There was no reply but the sound of stealthy footsteps retreating down the corridor. She crossed the floor to reset her alarm chair and check that her charms were still secure then she got back into bed and went back to sleep; she wasn’t disturbed again.
The following morning she woke late and swore quietly to herself; the day was wasting and she had much to do. She dressed quickly and hurried downstairs to find that Flince was waiting in the sitting room with a woman - the dressmaker Blucher had promised. Even before she had eaten the two women spent an hour measuring and comparing and discussing the best way to fit Adrava for the latest city fashions; apart from terse instructions about how to stand or whether to raise or lower her arms she was largely ignored throughout the process. Eventually the dressmaker announced herself satisfied and left, promising to return the next day with the first of the new dresses. Released from the tape measures of the dressmaker, Adrava made her escape and headed out into the city despite Flince’s disapproving glare.
And Blucher had been right; Vensille really was a city. Not as large or as imposing as Esterengel, maybe, and very different to Khemucasterill, but still a wealthy and successful city with many fine buildings and not a few parks and public gardens. She wandered almost at random along the city’s wider roads, searching for a charm shop. It didn’t take long to find one, a small shop with grimy windows and a narrow door. As she pushed open the door she was suddenly reminded of visiting a similar shop, decades ago, with Marrinek, somewhere in the back streets of Khemucasterill. She smiled as she looked around the shop, pretending to be interested in the goods on display as the owner finished serving a customer.
As soon as the customer had left and the door had closed behind them, Adrava turned to the shopkeeper.
“Good day, miss,” he said with a friendly smile, “and what can I help you with today?”
“I’m looking for something specific, not sure if you’ll be able to help,” she said, looking with disdain at the charms displayed behind the counter. The shopkeeper bristled slightly but kept smiling.