by Toby Frost
“How strange,” Hugh said. She wondered if he was really listening, if a portcullis had dropped in his mind to protect his friends. “I wonder why?”
“Cortaag is Azul’s man,” Giulia replied. “We know that.”
“Yes, that’s right. He must be up to something.”
She took a sip of her wine. “That’s not all of it, though. Elayne came out on deck. She talked to Cortaag as well, and they shook hands. He went away then. They’re friends, all of them.”
There was a pause. Hugh said, “And you’re sure it was them?”
“Hugh, I know I’m sure. I’d know all three of them from a mile away. And this wasn’t even fifty yards.” Suddenly, she wondered if she really had seen them. Could it have been a trick of the light, some sort of delusion, a memory she had somehow made up? Maybe the horrors of the last few days had driven her hysterical, like some woman in a play. No. I know what I saw.
“Perhaps it was a trick. Maybe he was trying to bribe them,” Hugh said. “You know, it wouldn’t surprise me. Back in the war, we had a lot of that. Treacherous peace offers, you see, enemies trying to take advantage of our chivalrous nature… Yes, I’ll bet it was that. We should warn them, you know.”
“It wasn’t that. Nobody was tricking anyone.”
He turned to look at her. His old eyes were calm and stern, as though he was about to lecture a foolish child. “Did you hear them properly?”
“No, but— they shook hands, Hugh. They were all smiling. Listen, just hear me out. Once you think about it, it all makes sense.” She felt her voice speed up a little, as though desperation was creeping in. “I mean, it was them who didn’t want to run away from here when the Watch had us cooped up, wasn’t it? It was them who wanted to reason it out with the Watchmen, even when they were gearing up to murder us. Shit, it was them who brought us to the Old Arms in the first place—”
“Now look here, Giulia. I hope you’re not suggesting—”
“And it was them who said we should go to the docks when you killed Varro. That’s where we were attacked. And it was Elayne who struck that deal with Falsi to keep us out of jail. She made him agree to it – she said so herself. Who knows what else she put in his head?”
“Giulia! Damn it, woman, listen to yourself. This is nonsense!”
But the dam was unblocked. The words tumbled out now, fast and reckless. “No, Hugh, you listen to me.. What if Edwin and Elayne were playing us all along? What if they went to the Old Arms to meet Father Coraldo? He said he was looking for Anglians. What if he came there because they told him to?” Another memory, something from what seemed like years ago: a sea monster raising its head above the water, in a piece of polished glass. “My God… Elayne showed me a piece of magic glass, the night I first met her. Azul’s in the guild of glassmakers: Edwin and Elayne had a cargo of magic glass ready to go. Elayne knows who he is – she’s in fucking business with him—”
“Shut up!” Hugh whirled around, and his hand was raised. “Shut up about her!”
Giulia darted back, four yards between them, heart pounding at her chest. Her left hand was up to block. Her right hand hovered at her belt, an inch away from her fighting-knife.
Giulia had seen Hugh fight many times, but he had never frightened her before. “Put your hand down.” Her voice sounded shaky and low. “No man strikes me, Hugh. No-one, you hear?”
He lowered his arm as if slowly waking from a dream. “Yes, of course.” The rage was gone, and the bemused old man was back. “Yes, certainly. You know I’d never hit a woman, Giulia. You do know that, don’t you?”
She relaxed a little and stood up straight. She kept her legs bent, just a little, enough to leap aside. I spoke ill of his lady, she thought. That’s a duelling offence in the stories. It must hurt to hear that she lied to him. And then a nastier thought crept in: Or maybe he just doesn’t like being reminded that she’s not his.
“I don’t know what came over me. I’m terribly sorry. It’s just – well, sometimes I forget you’re not a man, if you know what I mean.”
“You’re not the first.” Relief made her bitter.
“I always think of you as an equal, a gentleman. I am sorry. Friends?” He put out his hand.
“Friends and partners,” Giulia said, and she shook his hand. Now the threat had passed, she felt the prickle of sweat at her hairline.
“Terribly sorry,” he said again.
“It’s all right. I know you wouldn’t hit a woman.”
They were quiet for a moment.
“But I’ve known Elayne for twenty years,” Hugh said. “Edwin too. They’d never do anything like that. I know it as sure as I know anything. I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this.”
And the moment was gone. I played this wrong. The only thing I’ve convinced him of is that I’m an idiot.
“Then we’ll just have to find it,” she said. “Together.”
“Yes, that’s it. Both of us together, eh? Two knights errant, bound by one quest.”
“Right.”
Hugh frowned. “Elayne may be in danger, though, Edwin too. We should go quietly— what’s that?”
“What?” she asked, but her voice was already a whisper. They both crouched, instinctively moving aside from the path.
“Man ahead,” Hugh whispered. “One man, coming our way.”
Giulia drew her long knife. “You approach him. Give the word and I’ll take him from the side.”
Hugh strolled down the path, thumbs hooked over his belt. Giulia crept into the trees, the damp leaves brushing against her shoulders and side. She kept out of sight, watching. Hugh let out a loud yawn to announce his presence, followed by a cough. “Oh – hello there.”
She could see the man between the trees, a head shorter than Hugh and a good deal younger. “Hello again,” he said. “Going for a walk?”
Giulia recognised the voice. It was the forester who had been sitting outside when they’d arrived. She could have taken him easily. She walked out, treading loudly so she wouldn’t catch him by surprise.
“Something like that,” Hugh replied.
“Been inside? Seen the fey ladies?”
Giulia heard the relish in his tone. Some men had a taste for dryad women. She walked into view. “I’ve got a message for you two,” the forester said. “The guards on the bridge said a man came up and left it for them. Here it is.”
Hugh took the letter, turned it over in his hands.
Giulia said, “Did the guards say anything about the man who left it?”
“Nothing much at all,” said the forester. “They said he was well-spoken, but dressed for travel, like a rich man’s servant.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll be going, then. You take care.”
The forester walked back down the path, between the trees. He was lost to view long before the sound of his boots faded away.
Giulia said, “What does it say?”
“It’s addressed to me. We’ll have a look at it inside,” Hugh said.
“Wait a moment. Let’s look at it out here, just in case.” In case of what? In case we can’t trust the fey folk after all?
“It’s got a seal on,” Hugh said. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s opened it.”
“There’s ways,” Giulia replied, half to herself. “Read it out.”
Hugh broke the seal and unfolded the letter. “It’s to me. Here we are: Dear sir knight, the time for hints and requests has been and gone. Last night, your assassin whore took a dear friend from us: now we have done the same…” Hugh held the letter up close to his face, straining to read it by the moonlight. He lowered it and looked at her, his eyes wide with horror. “Oh my God, Giulia. They’ve got Elayne.”
“What? Let me see.”
“They’ve captured her,” Hugh said. His face was emp
ty, haggard. “Look.”
She plucked the letter from his hand and squinted at the words. The handwriting was elegant and smooth.
Dear sir knight, the time for hints and requests has been and gone. Last night, your assassin whore took a dear friend from us: now we have done the same to you. If you do not surrender at once we will treat the sorceress Elayne Brown to the slow arts that you know are available to us. Either you will come to the East dock tomorrow night and give yourself over, or you will bring a substitute to exchange for the witch, namely the murderess Giulia De Garno. Think quickly on this, for she shall not remain untouched for long.
Your friends.
For a moment Giulia hoped it was a joke, or a mistake, but there could be no doubt. Surprise stole the right words from her. “Oh, fuck.”
Hugh looked staggered, bereaved. “We have to help her,” he said. “We’ve got to get her back. If those bastards—”
“Wait a moment. Let me think.”
“We need to work fast,” said Hugh. He stared into the trees, as if looking for an ambush. “We have to rescue her.”
“Easy,” Giulia said. “Easy. We need to be sure it isn’t fake.”
“Fake? What do you mean, fake? That they’ve not captured her?”
“It’s a trap,” Giulia said. As soon as she’d said it, she was certain that she was right. “They want to make us go back into the city. They can’t get at you out here. This way, they’re bound to catch either one of us – maybe both.”
“But what if it’s true?” Hugh said, his voice wound a notch tighter. “Can’t you see what they’ve written?”
“Come on, Hugh,” Giulia replied. “This letter is bullshit. It’s lies.”
“But why would they lie?” he demanded. “How can you be sure?”
Giulia didn’t say anything.
“You think Elayne had a hand in this?”
“I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t.”
“I know, Giulia. I know she wouldn’t do this. And she’s in terrible danger – her and Edwin – and I have to rescue her – them. I know it.” He turned towards the house. “Come on. We need to get our things.”
“I don’t like it, Hugh. I’m telling you, I don’t like it. Listen, what if I’m right? What if they are with Azul? What happens if you walk in there and they’re all waiting for you?”
“Giulia, I’ve known these people for years. They fought with me. Why would they turn on us just like that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it was the money.”
“Oh, come on! They fought alongside me, against the Inquisition! Don’t you know what that means? We fought to save the world from those bastards, and you’re suggesting that they’d just— just turn their backs on it? Fight for the other side?”
Giulia wanted to raise her voice. She wanted to tell him that he was a fool, that this was Azul’s plan to bring him down, to strike at the place where Hugh was weak. She fought down the urge. “Listen, I know it seems bad. But you’ve got to look at it like this. That letter was written for you to read. It’s addressed to you. But I know what I saw. Edwin and Elayne know Cortaag. He’s been on their ship. They’re working with him.”
“That can’t be,” he said again, but his voice was weaker. It was hope that fuelled him now, not evidence.
“It is,” Giulia said. She softened her voice and put her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, Hugh, but this is a trap.”
He stepped away. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
She stared at him, then looked away, unsure what else she could do. Hugh took a step towards the house, and she walked beside him.
“What if you’re wrong?” he demanded. “What if you’ve got it wrong, what then? What’re we going to do when we find out that she’s dead because we did nothing?”
“Hugh, I’m pretty sure—”
“But not certain, are you, eh?”
There was a pause. Giulia looked around them, as if looking for someone to back her up. “I know what I saw,” she said. It sounded hollow.
“I need to think,” said the knight. “Just leave me for a while, would you?”
“Of course. Go ahead.” She felt furious: with him for being so stupid, with herself for not convincing him, with everything. “I’m going to bed: I need an early night. We’ll talk about this in the morning.”
He looked at her for a long moment, and she wondered what he was thinking. Then he nodded. “You’re right. Tomorrow morning it is.” Hugh opened the door and they stepped into the hall. “Goodnight, Giulia.”
“Goodnight, Hugh.”
She walked up the stairs, feeling that everything had failed.
Her room was at the top of the stairs. It was small and pleasant, with a large window and a neat, clean bed. She pulled off her boots and britches, left her weapons on the floor and climbed into bed.
There was a pain behind her eyes. She sat up in bed and pinched her brow, knowing what was going to come.
Giulia didn’t bother trying to stop the Melancholia. There was no point. It swelled behind her eyes and in her chest, and spread through her like poison.
Should’ve got out, she thought, should’ve run from here while I had the chance. I should never have come here in the first place. Never should have met Hugh, never should have done anything except stay in the fucking gutter. If I put my head up, God himself would reach through the clouds and push me back down.
That was the Melancholia talking: it had always been worst at night, creeping in like an evil lover when there was no sunshine or conversation to keep it at bay. I ought to have stayed on my own.
The letter was a clever move. The Inquisition had worked like that in the old days, during the war: the inquisitors would threaten a man’s family, until he betrayed everyone he knew to save the few closest to him. They understood that friends and lovers were weaknesses: the strong were strongest alone.
She sat there in the darkness, waiting for sleep to catch up with her.
I don’t know how I can win this. I really don’t.
Giulia awoke in what seemed like the small hours. She felt worn out, used up, as if she had been drinking heavily and had narrowly avoided a hangover. There was some food left downstairs; that would help. She waited for her eyes to get used to the light, got up and dressed. She crossed the room, the boards creaking softly under her bare feet.
Moonlight streaked across the landing. It had been dark when she had gone to bed, and she turned to see how the light was getting in.
Hugh’s door was open. He stood in front of the window, a black outline against the dark blue world outside. Above his head, the moon shone in like a great lidless eye, idiotic and malign. A high, strained noise came from him.
She crept closer. Hugh stood bolt upright, his back to her. His right hand was raised to his chin, not covering his mouth but partially in it.
He made the noise again. It was a thin, strangled sound, the sort of sound a distressed child might make. Giulia watched him bite his knuckles, eyes clenched shut.
She knew what that meant. She’d done it herself, when she’d been coming to terms with the scars on her face. It was either that or scream.
She made her feet scuff the floor as she approached. He lowered his hand, but he did not look around.
“Hugh? Are you all right?”
“Yes, thank you.” His voice was a tiny bit tighter than usual, a little more controlled. He stared out the window. “I’m fine. Are you having trouble sleeping?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Giulia, do I seem like a fool to you?”
“No,” she said. “Why would you?”
“This letter… maybe it’s a lie. I suppose I must look stupid, taking it as it reads, but… what if it’s true? What if we do nothing, and it turns out they had Elayne?”
I told you already, she thought. What
more do you want me to say? “We won’t do nothing. In the morning we’ll go after her. I’ll do everything I can, Hugh. I promise.”
“I know you will.”
She hesitated. She felt guilty for resenting him. “I’m sorry this happened. I wish we’d never run into them. We wouldn’t be in this shit, and you wouldn’t be… you know. You’d be happier otherwise.”
He turned from the window. She expected him to disagree, perhaps to be angry. “I probably would,” he said. “But I’ve got no choice in it. I’m a knight. It’s what I do.”
“Doesn’t mean you have to suffer. You could be a happy knight.”
He smiled, very slightly.
She said, “We’ll get Elayne back. But you don’t owe her the way you think you do. Edwin does. You don’t. She’s not yours to owe.”
He looked down at his hand and flexed the fingers, as if he wasn’t sure how it worked. “I see what you’re saying.”
“I’ll, um, go back to bed now. See if I can give it another try.”
“Good idea,” he replied. “You should do that.”
“Yes,” she said, and as she turned to go she saw him lift his hand back to his mouth.
“Goodnight,” he said. “Sleep well.”
“You too.”
Giulia tried to imagine what Hugh must have been like when he first met Elayne. He would have been in his late thirties, probably stronger and fitter than someone half his age, brash among men and awkward with ladies, happier spilling blood than making polite conversation. She suspected she would not have liked him quite as much then.
Getting back into bed reminded her body of how worn out she was. Giulia was too tired to think clearly, too tired even for the Melancholia. As she fell asleep, a jumble of images flickered through her mind: lords and ladies, dragons and tournaments, things she’d only seen in books.
***
Averrio twinkled in the rain, its thousand fires staring out of the night like the eyes of small animals: sometimes friendly, often wicked, never trustworthy. They were reflected on the water, as though there was a second city under the lagoon.
You could almost think that it was a good place, Hugh thought. He nudged his horse on, wanting to go faster but wary of laming the damned thing before he got there.