by JF Smith
~~~~~
Dawn began to appear behind Kitemount, and Gully wandered carelessly through the streets that became more and more crowded with the arrival of the new day. He paid little heed to those around him — the delivery of bags of flour to bakers from the gristmill outside the city, market masters haggling with peddlers for stalls in the market for the day, poulterers hauling cages of geese and pheasants from inn to inn to supply them. He was too drawn into his own head to pay heed to any of the thousand activities taking place around him, activities that paid him no heed in return.
At some point in the day, a platoon of the Kingdom Guard came marching through the city, pushing aside everything else as they came down the street on their return from their frivolous search for a prince who had already been returned safely. Gully reacted instinctively out of fear of being spotted by a passing guard and recognized as the Gully Snipe, and he faded back into the crowd pushed to the sides of the boulevard as the platoon passed.
He was tired, and hungry, and would have gone to the solitary comfort of Roald’s apartment to rest, but he was afraid he would be found there when he was still unable to face anyone after the events of the night. So he drifted from one spot to another in the city, lost and exhausted.
He thought about leaving the city, about disappearing into the Ghellerweald and to his cabin, abandoning all else behind, all the people, all the troubles, all the things pulling at him. But he could not bring himself to do that, no matter how much he wanted it. He had a remaining responsibility that he could not disavow and would not shirk, no matter what else may happen.
It was why, hours and hours later as the sun disappeared beneath the horizon at the end of an aimless and painful day, that he found himself standing beneath the old city gate that opened up onto Bonedown Square. Before him, a crowd had begun to gather, and in the middle of the throng was the open space, in the center of which was a flat stone slab half a man high. The stone table was black and sooted from use over the years, and tonight it would be put to use yet again. The pyre, with Mariealle’s body crowning it, had already been built on top of the table for her burning.
Over the heads of the people gathering, he could see the dark auburn-red silk sheeting draped across her body as she lay on top of the wood and tinder, a color chosen by her family to go with her hair. The last rays of the sun hit her final bed from the west, making it seem as if she was already on fire. Gully’s insides twisted again and his knees trembled as he slowly drew himself closer.
Whispers snaked through the crowd of curiosity seekers, and mouths murmured with all the gossip that had begun to spread through the city that day and drawn all of them to the burning. Word that the prince had been returned safely, word that His Highness’ own chief advisors were behind his abduction and had been arrested and not arrested, word that the Allerdaain girl about to be burned was somehow involved in it, and the most scandalous of all — word that the crown prince might have a brother of whom no one knew. The words of the whispers and gossip reached him in bits and pieces, but they passed across his ears unheeded as he stared at the cloth on top of the pyre. It rippled in the breeze every so often, giving only a hint to the beautiful, tragic heroine who lay beneath it.
The light fell from rose to purple to deep blue and the stars began to appear overhead as the elocutor’s voice rang out with the memorial comments he had prepared at the request of the family, given before the rites of release and her nighting. A couple of interpreters slowly walked around the pyre table, their incense bowls in hand giving off a dark, smoky scent as they mumbled supplications on her behalf.
Gully pulled his hood around his face and stepped into the crowd. The elocutor spoke, and Mariealle’s father sat as stone, hollow and haunted. Mariealle’s mother cried and cried in misery for the loss of her only daughter. A curious bystander next to Gully turned to him and asked him if he knew how the girl was involved in the prince’s return. Gully ignored him and continued to stare unblinkingly at the crimson draped body on top of the carefully stacked wood. He could still feel her fingers slip from his as she fell. He held up his hand in front of his face and his knees almost gave out under him at the sight of her dried blood left behind, the stain of where he had failed her still upon his hand.
At the conclusion of the elocutor’s panegyric, the pyre was lit. Mariealle’s mother began to sob openly as the flames crept up around her daughter’s body, and the goodsir remained immobile and expressionless, so statue-like as to appear dead himself.
The flames licked higher, and Gully did something he would never, under other circumstances, do. He stepped forward into the open area around the pyre, in front of the gathered crowd, which could have no other effect than to draw attention to himself. He sank down to his knees and he began to feel the tears once again drip from his eyes and down his cheeks. This time, he did not wipe them away or try to stifle them. He let them fall to the stone beneath his knees as he stared at the burning flames in front of him, smoke and sparks flying up into the early night sky.
Gully whispered to the body before him as the flames consumed it and released her soul up to the night, “Forgive me, Mariealle. Forgive me for allowing you from my side last night. Forgive me for not telling you how much you mean to me. I love you, my most dear Mariealle, so forgive me for one such as myself having these feelings for someone as wonderful as you.”
He watched as the sparks from the fire rose up into the night, and for the first time in his life, he had no doubt in his mind that they would find new life as a star in the sky overhead. He prayed that the star would forgive him for his failure.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Goodsir Allerdaain rising out of the chair in which he had been sitting for his daughter’s burning, his anger gaining at having spied someone intruding on their private grief too much.
Gully stood, the tears streaming down his face. He held up his hand submissively to let the man know he was not trying to intrude or cause trouble. Gully stepped silently back into the crowd and disappeared, threading his way through them with downcast eyes as he ignored their questions and stares. He kept his chaperon tightly around him so no one would see him and he would see no one in return.
As soon as he got to where the crowd thinned, and having done what he came to do, he felt lost again and began to wonder where he would go next. If Gully could have fallen from the face of the world at that moment, he would have. It was then that he felt a strong hand on his shoulder stopping him.
He turned, expecting Mariealle’s angry father, or perhaps a swordsman that had recognized him as the Gully Snipe. Instead, he found Thaybrill’s concerned face, buried under the same threadbare cloak and hood he had used to sneak into the city.
“Bayle,” said Thaybrill, his mouth in a gentle smile. “Or I should now say, Thayliss...”
Gully shrank back at the name, and Thaybrill corrected himself, “Bayle, then.”
Gully frowned at that name as well.
The prince said, “Please, Bayle. I know you are hurting, and confused, and so much has happened in so short a time. Please come with me and let us talk some, just the two of us.”
Gully sighed and tried to wipe the tears away with his hands. “I suppose I cannot run from any of this, as much as I would like to.”
Thaybrill whispered, “You are my brother, and have done so much for me in my most despairing of days. Allow me to be there for you now.”
Gully nodded and Thaybrill, unable to hold himself back any longer, threw himself at Gully and pulled him into a tight hug, sending a fresh blade of pain through his still-throbbing shoulder, but Gully swallowed it without complaint.
Thaybrill said as he released his brother, “Come back to the Folly with me. You can see I learned some of the tricks you taught me and I snuck out earlier.” Thaybrill held his arms out indicating the disguise he was wearing. “I’m sure most of the Guard is looking for me now, fretting that I’ve gone and gotten myself abducted again.”
He put h
is arm around Gully’s shoulder and began guiding him towards the ramp leading from the Bonedown up to the Folly. Overhead the stars began to shine and twinkle brightly, and behind them only a few curious members of the crowd noticed the two men wrapped hidden in dark surcoats making their way towards the stone-paved ramp to Jennal’s Folly.
Thaybrill said, “We have much to talk about, you and I.”
Chapter 27 — The Thief Of Iisen
Behind them, all of the Bonedown was laid out — the crowd, the elocutors, a grief-stricken family, and a fire consuming what felt to Gully like all of the Iisendom. Part of Gully wanted to stop and watch, part of him said he deserved the agony he would feel at the sight of his failure turned to flame and spark and loss. But another part of him refused to let him watch because his heart would bear no more.
Together, they walked up the grand paved ramp to the Folly’s front gate, with its three stone turrets built to echo the Trine Range looming over the city. They walked in silence, and Gully was not quite sure what to say to Thaybrill; nor did he feel much up to the challenge of finding something to talk about. He found it a strange sensation, an uncomfortable one, to be entering the castle grounds for the very first time by walking through the front entrance.
The gate was flanked by members of the King’s Guard, the most accomplished members of the Kingdom Guard and the ones charged directly with the protection of the monarch and royal family. Gully’s feet began to drag as they got closer and his reluctance increased. He worried that one of these guards would recognize him as the thief he was and expose him to Thaybrill. It was inevitable that Thaybrill would find out the truth, Gully would see to it, but he preferred to let Thaybrill down gently rather than have it explode in his brother’s face suddenly and unexpectedly.
Thaybrill removed his hood and noticed that Gully had slowed.
“Lower your chaperon, Bayle. We do not need the disguises anymore.”
Gully paused and then lowered his hood, hoping he would not be recognized in the dark.
As they entered the gate, Gully watched the guards on either side of him worriedly. The guards snapped to strict attention and the more senior one greeted them, “Your Highnesses!”
Gully felt like anything but. He wanted to put his hood back on so he would not be referred to that way again, but only scratched at his palm instead.
He followed Thaybrill into the front bailey of the castle grounds, all the while his mind spinning again on everything that had happened and was happening and was very soon to happen. He began to suspect what Thaybrill wished to discuss. And if he guessed correctly, then it would be a relief to both of them.
Thaybrill had remained as quiet as Gully as they crossed the grounds, and Gully decided he would venture to be the first one to speak.
“I believe, Thaybrill, that I know of what you wish to discuss with me. And... I do not wish for you to fear any interference from me,” he said. “Perhaps it is premature given we have a much larger kingdom preparing to invade, and we are not sure if we’ve marshaled enough forces in time to repel them, but I assure you that it is not my intention to make any trouble for your coronation.”
His hands wrung and twisted the chaperon he held in his hands. “I’ll stay quiet and out of the way, which is what you want from someone like me, anyway.”
Gully scratched at his palm a few more times and felt small and lost in Thaybrill’s world. He silently wished that this was what Thaybrill wanted. He wanted the very same. He wanted no more than to go back to his life, looking for his father, and Thaybrill could go about being the king he was meant to be.
Before Thaybrill could reply, a thought struck him and he added timidly, “I will ask, though, once all is done and the invasion has hopefully been put behind us... please keep Roald in your mind, if you would. He is a capable and loyal leader. You would do well to reward him with a promotion within the Guard. I know of no one who deserves it more.”
It was Thaybrill’s turn to stop, causing Gully to stop as well. A few functionaries were leaving the building that held the Offices of State and bowed low for Thaybrill before continuing on their way. In the distance, a few of the King’s Guards were stabling horses for the night next to their garrison building.
Thaybrill stared oddly at Gully for a few moments, and Gully began to feel uncomfortable. A second later, Thaybrill began to chuckle, truly amused.
The laughter did nothing to soothe Gully and he said, “I beg your pardon, Thaybrill... Did I say something to amuse you?” He hoped Thaybrill wasn’t laughing at the idea of promoting Roald and he felt a flush of red rise in his cheek.
Thaybrill took Gully’s arm and began walking with his brother again. He said merrily, “More than you realize. And I will not be making any decisions regarding Roald, so do not ask me to do so.”
Gully’s heart sank deeper, and he said no more.
They arrived at two massive wooden doors at the front of one of the largest buildings in the Folly. The thief in Gully would never have dared entered doors like these for anything in the world, but Thaybrill pulled them open without a pause and without caring who heard or saw.
Inside, Gully was taken aback to realize where they were. He had caught a glimpse of this room the night before, but it had been a brief one in the dark of night. This time, the room was bright. It was spectacularly lit with candles and torches, enough to easily see from one end to the other. The room was enormous, and stretched for so far it seemed like it was as far as Gully’s eyes could see. On either side of the length of the hall were massive windows, made of a faceted glass to capture the daylight, but now only sparkling darkly with night outside. Gully’s eyes travelled up to the stone arches and vaults that formed the ceiling and seemed high enough to hold passing clouds.
Gully’s every instinct was that he did not belong in such a room as this, and his feet tried to turn the other way and walk out, but Thaybrill insistently took him further into the room.
Gully’s eyes finally caught the one piece of furniture in the entire hall, the dark wood of the throne at the far end, sitting upon a dais that was covered with a deep violet carpeting. For a moment, Gully did not see it as the throne. It seemed to be little more than a chair, much like any other. True, it was a little bit taller and heavier than the nicest one that Roald had in his apartment, and it was more richly carved, but it was not as large or as extravagant as what Gully had imagined. On either side were two of the King’s Guards watching over it.
Gully stopped again at the sight, and Thaybrill stopped with him this time.
“Well, it seems we are in this together far more deeply than either of us could have possibly imagined, my brother,” said Thaybrill.
Gully tore his eyes from the throne and looked at the prince, who was smiling broadly at him. Thaybrill seemed at ease and happy, and Gully felt wrong in this place. He had expected to see this great hall one time in his life, on the day he was brought in to be sentenced by the king for his crimes.
“I... do not deserve the honor of having you for my brother, Prince Thaybrill, not for well or want. As willing as you seem to be to accept me as your blood, the bold truth is that you should not want me. I would be naught but a blot upon your... our...”
Gully shook his head, confused.
“I would be a blot upon the name of veLohrdan,” he finished. If he thought he could run from that room the way he had run the night before, he would have.
Thaybrill almost laughed again, but stifled it. He said, more seriously but with the sparkle still in his hazel eye, “I hardly think there is anyone in all of the Iisendom whom I would choose as a brother above you!”
Gully sighed and knew the time had come. He could not allow Thaybrill to continue believing such a thorough falsehood, and his heart weighed down as a result.
He grabbed Thaybrill’s arm. “You must know the truth, good Thaybrill, before you bestow such honor upon the likes of me. You possibly know me by another name, besides Bayle Delescer.” Gully gritted his tee
th and said, “I am known in Lohrdanwuld as the Gully Snipe. I am no more than a petty thief and a criminal, Thaybrill. That is all that I have ever been, and I am sorry not to have been honest with you before now. By all rights, you should throw me into the prison with the Lord Marshal for what I have done. I deserve that. I deserve far worse for bringing the kind heart of Mariealle into this and causing her death.” By the time he was finished, the words were tumbling out of his mouth.
Gully stared down at his feet as he finished, not wanting to see the horror and revulsion in the prince’s face at his admission.
“The loss of Mariealle is tragic, and I can plainly see how much it hurts you,” said Thaybrill with concern and gentleness. “It breaks my heart as well, for her sake and for yours. But her death is not your fault. No one bears the blame for it other than the monster, Krayell Delavoor. And make no mistake, he will pay for all that he has done. As for thieving, Thayliss, I have long suspected you might have some familiarity with the craft.”
Gully was shocked to hear Thaybrill say so.
“You did?”
“Of course, I did not guess you were the elusive Gully Snipe himself, but even very early in our encounter, you were all too well acquainted will skills only suited for such a life. Perhaps you think me more naive than I am. Perhaps I am in many ways. But not this once.”
Gully’s mouth fell open at how he had not so much fooled his brother after all, and yet it seemed to make little difference to him.
Thaybrill placed his hand against Gully’s breast and said, regretfully, “And perhaps if you knew all there is of me, you would not want me for your brother, Thayliss. But would you really be so quick to take away my brother, my twin brother, whom I have now had for scarcely a day?”