Glissanda

by Sara Kingsley

  “But that could be years from now!”

  “That’s what I thought too. But the next day, while we were on the move again and nearly to the moor, I overheard a couple of ‘em talking about Araroa’s failing health. I didn’t believe them, we just saw the man—what?—six weeks ago? He looked in fine health then. Bit of a chunk, but otherwise he seemed well and good. I couldn’t help but ask them what they meant. They looked at me funny, but then they finally told me that he’d fallen ill rather suddenly. The whole thing sounds mighty suspicious if you ask me, but I didn’t tell them this, of course.”

  “Let me guess: there’s more,” I say.

  “That’s right. Turns out, those Loyalists had been called into the Bastion to protect Prince Dominic, to see him on the throne when Araroa passes. Expected to be soon from the sound of it. Once we arrived here, we were told to assist the King’s Hunters in patrolling, that we should intimidate any Treasoners still remaining in the Bastion. Tui, Callum, and I offered to patrol the northern gate, knowing that you’d be passing by any second.” Leif wraps his arms around me, pulling me tight against him. He buries his face in my hair, inhales deeply. “And I’m not letting you go, ever again. Not after all I heard.”

  My heart gives a little leap. Will I ever be safe from the threat of death?

  “That’s fine by me,” I say, letting him pull me closer. “I’m glad you three were okay.”

  “Me too,” he says. “Throat’s a little sore from all the bile though.”

  We travel deeper into the woods to rest for a few hours. As we ride, Leif’s words keep repeating in my ears: that the Loyalists have come to the Bastion to see Prince Dominic take the throne when old Araroa dies.

  When the King dies.

  The day I declared to King Araroa that I was the true heir to the throne—not Dominic—I had no idea it would be only weeks later that I’d be forced to deal with all those who despised the idea: those loyal to him and his son.

  Araroa can’t die, not yet.

  Tui goes off to sleep by himself, grumbling about having to find Catriona again. Leif and I find a private spot between some close-together trees to curl up, away from Imogen, Callum, Will, and Hamish.

  We haven’t dared to make a fire, and I feel guilty about having Leif to warm me. But only a little.

  “I’ve missed you,” he says, nuzzling into my hair, his arms wrapped tightly around me.

  “Me too—but you would have been with me sooner if it wasn’t for Hannah … again.”

  He leans back and takes my face between his hands. “Ah, Raven. I’m so sorry. Truly, I had no intention—”

  “Shhh …” I lean toward him, and kiss him softly on the mouth. “I know you didn’t mean to be late.” And I really do mean those words this time. Besides, I’m more than happy to hear the news that she’s keen on Callum.

  He tries to kiss me again but I stop him with one finger against his lips. “Leif, I know there’s more you’re not telling me. What is it?”

  He leans up on one elbow, placing his head in his hand. “You can read me like a book, can’t you?”

  I nod, a small smile forming. “I can.”

  “There’s more I heard, that night at the fire, after the drink really started flowing …” He pauses.

  “Go on, I can take it.”

  He ruffles my hair with his free hand. “Of course you can. The men were saying that Araroa fell ill not even a week after that day you stood up to him and declared you were the true heir to the throne.”

  “This doesn’t sound good.”

  He slowly shakes his head. “I’ll be frank, they’re blaming you.”

  I sit up, the blanket falling from my shoulders. “That’s absurd!”

  “Of course it is! We had nothing to do with it. Probably just the strain of knowing so many are against him, and threatening his son to boot. All that rich food—steak and wine—he consumes on a regular basis too …”

  “Why didn’t you want to say this earlier—oh! Imogen?” I say her name quietly. I hate to suspect his aunt of possibly having something to do with Araroa falling ill, but, excepting myself, she despises the man more than anyone I know.

  He purses his lips, face fallen serious. “I’m not sure, to be honest. I wouldn’t put it past her to convince someone, a Treasoner inside the palace perhaps, to do such a thing. But I don’t think we should let her know about … our suspicion. She’d never admit to it, besides …”

  “No, she wouldn’t. I hate feeling like a gossip, but you’re right for us to keep this to ourselves for now. And I certainly don’t want to be anywhere near the Bastion—”

  “You don’t? But why not? If Araroa really does pass, this is your chance!”

  “Leif! You can’t be serious.”

  Leif sits up and takes my hands in his. “Raven, I’ve never been more serious. This is your chance to take the throne. We’ll call in the Treasoners to the Bastion—you know they’re waiting, eager to hear the word from you to move in. They’re dreaming of the day they can finally see you crowned in Nadir”—his teeth flash in the dark as an enormous grin breaks out on his face—“and so am I.”

  “But what about the Loyalists? They’ll never stand for it.”

  “They won’t. But we can’t let their pettiness determine this. Besides, the Treasoners far outnumber them. It might get ugly, true, but the end result will be worth any struggle—seeing you as Woman King of Nadir.”

  His face is beaming, eyes alight with excitement.

  It’s terrifying me.

  I don’t know what to say; I just shake my head. “I’m not ready for this, Leif. I thought I had years and years to get used to the idea, for everyone to get used to the idea. Besides, Araroa could get better. Maybe he’s just fallen ill temporarily …”

  “Well, if that’s the case, then you still need to be ready. Raven, it is time for you to get used to the idea that you’re going to take the throne, and soon.”

  I don’t answer him. Instead, I reach my hand up to my throat, grasp Papa’s obsidian pendant with my fingers, rub the smooth surface with my thumb.

  “What about my family?” I ask.

  “What about them? Wait—did you find out what happened to them?”

  I finally fill Leif in with what I’d learned back at the port, ending with letting everyone think that poor deceased woman really was Miss Lilith and allowing the rumor of my family perishing to spread.

  “I’m so sorry, Raven. That’s terrible news,” he says.

  I shake my head. “What do you mean? It’s great news!”

  “How’s that? It sounds like your family is lost. It’s dreadful.” He studies my face carefully. “Why aren’t you more upset?”

  “Don’t you see? I don’t think they were. I think this woman was covering up for them and they really got away.”

  There is a long pause; I can tell Leif is carefully considering his next words.

  “Perhaps … maybe the good captain was mistaken? About the woman’s story? Perhaps he misunderstood and just thought she was saying she was Lilith? Is that possible? Maybe she was telling the truth.”

  “No. That’s impossible. She’d told the crew of the Sea Eagle that she was Lilith. She must have had some reason. Whatever—when I find them I’ll get the whole story.”

  Silence. A cricket chirps, the sound coming from yards away.

  “Are you serious?” Leif finally says, clearly struggling to keep his voice calm and level.

  “Yes, I am. I’ve got you, Tui, Callum, Will, Hamish—and Ben, who’s waiting at the port too. Imogen as well, should she choose to continue with us. We’ll head to the South Coast and track them all down. Loyalists be damned.”

  More crickets.

  Leif sighs deeply. “I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a total—”

  “You think I’m foolish.”

  “Yeah, pretty much. Listen, Raven, it’s time you started thinking of the rest of the kingdom. Your family is going to be fine. That
woman was clearly trying to send a message, and that must have been it. They escaped ashore, they’ll find their way back to Baldachin and the other treevillagers. I don’t know how to say this in any way except to be blunt about it: you’ve got a lot more people to think of now other than you and Tui’s family. You’ve got an entire Kingdom—two, really, with Nuimana.”

  Blood is pounding in my ears. I know that everything Leif is saying is true.

  But I’m not ready to accept it: I have to think of my family first. What kind of King would I be otherwise? But getting rid of the Loyalists is exactly what I need to do to save my family, my kingdom, and my throne.

  “You’re right.” I force a grin up at Leif.

  “Of course I am.” He gives my hands a squeeze, returning the smile.

  I squeeze his back. “The only thing to do now is for me to see my father, King Araroa.”

  Leif’s smile fades. “Really? Why’s that?”

  “To give him the chance to call the Loyalists off before we bring in the Treasoners. More importantly, I want to see how sick he is for myself. And if he does die, then I want my face to be the last one he sees.”

  Chapter 10

  It seemed like a good idea, in the dead of night. But now with the Bastion’s eastern gate in view, with Loyalists and Hunters swarming around it, I must admit I’m having second thoughts.

  At sunrise, we sent Hamish and Will back to the port with the horses. We won’t need them in the Bastion, and they’d make us stand out garishly besides. I’d kissed Pearl’s nose and hugged her, telling her I’d be back for her soon.

  We’d returned on foot, weaving through the trees, purposely avoiding any of the footpaths.

  And now, it looks like we’re pretty much at a dead end.

  “No, I’ve got an idea,” Leif says.

  I turn to look at him, astonished. “Was I talking out loud?”

  “Don’t think so,” he says, giving me a funny look in return. “Anyway, I recognize a couple of those Loyalist blokes, I can get past ‘em. Do you still have the woolen shawl?”

  “Of course.” I rummage around in my pack, pulling out the soft blue and green cloth the women had woven for me at the Treasoner camp.

  Leif wraps the cloth around my head and shoulders; it’s a fine weft, and large enough to cover my head and body down to my waist. He stands back, evaluating.

  “Your sword—it’s too obvious.”

  “Well, I certainly can’t leave it behind.”

  “Of course not.” He rubs his chin, considering. He scrunches up his face, and I can tell he doesn’t really want to suggest what he’s about to. “Do you think … maybe … one of us can carry it for you?” Then he adds quickly: “Just until we get inside the gates.”

  My face flushes with the absurdity of the suggestion. I open my mouth to respond, then close it again. There’s no way in hell I’m letting Fortissima out of my sight. She’s my strength … my destiny.

  My curse.

  I let out a long breath.

  And then I begin unbuckling the belt from my waist. “I suppose it would fit Callum best.” Reluctantly, I reach Fortissima toward him.

  Callum’s eyes go wide. “Are you sure? This sword … she’s … magnificent.”

  “Well, no,” I say with certainty. “But Leif’s right. He can sneak me through, but not if I’m wearing a weapon such as this. They’ll know who I am straight away.”

  Callum takes Fortissima from me, gingerly. Then nearly drops her to the ground. “She’s heavy!” he exclaims, flushing red with the effort. “But I can do it—I’ll take care of her for you.” I help him buckle the belt around his waist, then we find a cloak to wrap around him so only the lower part of the sheath is exposed.

  I stand back and sigh. A boy wearing a sword certainly won’t turn any heads. Me though? Those men would question that in an instant.

  I glance over at Imogen. “What about you? Are you going in with us?” She’s wearing her sword too.

  She purses her lips, thinking, then shakes her head. “I’ll keep a lookout from back here, provide assistance if necessary. When I see you all are past the gates, I’ll find another way in. Let’s meet at the bakery—you remember where that is?”

  “Sure do,” Leif says with a wink. “Best pies in the Bastion.”

  “Excellent,” Imogen says.

  “What’s going on?” Tui’s just returned from visiting a clump of bushes, and is clearly trying to make sense of our new costumes. “Oh! We’re going in here, eh?”

  “We’re going in,” Leif says.

  “Good. When I find Catriona I’m going to give her a good spank—oh, sorry.”

  I give Tui a dirty look. He shrugs, a corner of his mouth twitching as he tries to suppress a smile.

  I look back to the gates, silently counting the men guarding it: there are only two Hunters, but eight Loyalists. I sure hope this works.

  “Ready, Raven?” Leif’s reaches for my arm, motioning for Tui to take Callum’s.

  “I guess so,” I say, stepping toward the men between me and my blood father … and the truth.

  The Loyalists line up in front of the gate when they see us approaching. Each of them is wielding a large weapon conspicuously to hand: a sword, large knife, a staff. I can’t help but notice the Hunters glancing at the Loyalists in an irritated way, as if their turf were being intruded upon.

  “Let us by.” Leif’s voice doesn’t waver. He stands tall before the men, grasping my arm gently but firmly. “We’ve found these two suspiciously loitering about in the woods here. Think we’d better take them to the Palace for questioning.”

  One of the men steps forward. “And who are you two? Haven’t seen you before—”

  “It’s all right, mate. They came in with us the other day.” One of the other Loyalists gives Leif and Tui a nod of recognition.

  “That’s right,” Tui says. “We’ve been on duty at the northern gate. Thought we’d swing around and check the perimeter before taking a rest.” As if to prove his point, he yawns impressively. “But we’re beat, really do need to get these two to the commander before I pass out.”

  Another of the Loyalists speaks up. “Hey, weren’t you the ones who abandoned your shift last night? When the next lot arrived, the gates weren’t being watched.”

  I hope I’m the only one who notices Leif’s eyes glancing nervously back and forth between them. But then he grins. “Yeah, that was us. Only we left just before the other crew arrived. Heard them coming and took off. My apologies for the confusion.”

  I can feel the men relax when they hear Leif speak, his emerald eyes twinkling at them … like a snake charmer, he is.

  “All right, let ‘em in.” The Loyalist, who’d first spoken to us, motions to the Hunters. The Hunter responds with a dark look, then opens the gate just enough for us to slip through the bars.

  “Hold on—stop!” We slowly turn around. The second Hunter is walking toward us. “That one’s got a weapon,” he says, pointing at Callum’s cloak, where Fortissima is exposed underneath.

  Callum looks at me, his eyes going wide.

  “Run,” I mouth silently to him.

  He nods once, then slips through the bars and takes off.

  “Shite! He’s getting away!” Tui exclaims, acting as though he’s struggling to fit through the bars. Stalling. “I’ll get him!” When he’s finally on the other side, he takes off running after Callum.

  “He’ll catch him,” Leif says to the men, pushing me through the bars. We take a few steps away from the gates, then duck into an alleyway.

  And then we run too.

  It’s not until we’re near the bakery that we finally slow to a fast walk. I’m panting and the shawl has fallen into my face so I can barely see. I’ve been clinging to Leif the whole way, my vision clouded with the image of Callum running away with my sword.

  “Wait! Stop!” I shrug my arm out of his tight grasp. “Where’d Callum go? I need to get Fortissima back!”

  “
Tui will find him. Let’s get to the bakery, they’ll meet us there, I’m sure of it. Probably just went another way.”

  I look up and down the rubbish-strewn alley we’ve just ducked into. There’s only an old woman a few doors down; she throws out a handful of food scraps, and an army of feral cats comes running, fighting to get their fill. She looks at me for an instant, then turns to go back inside.

  “Okay. Let’s go—I’m sure they’ll meet us.” I tuck the cloth snugly around my face again, not really sure of what I’d said at all.

  We reach the small, decrepit bakery a few minutes later—what is really a front for a Treasoner hub. As the last time I was here with Leif, there’s a flash of recognition in the eyes of the plump woman behind the counter, but her words don’t give this away.

  “Good morning mister, ma’am. Welcome to my wee shop. What can I get yous?”

  “Coffee,” Leif and I both say at the exact same time. We glance over at each other, stifling grins.

  The woman winks at us. “Make yourselves comfortable. I’ve got a fresh pot brewing, just finishing up. Pie?”

  “Yes, for each of us, please,” Leif says.

  We seat ourselves at a table near the front windows. The tattered curtains are open only a crack, just large enough to see out between them.

  I peer out, expecting to see Tui and Callum pass by any second. I’m surprised they didn’t beat us here.

  I nearly jump out of my chair when the bakery woman places a large mug of coffee before me. After thanking her, I stir in a bit of cream and sugar, then return my gaze between the curtains, watching the street outside.