The Born Queen tkotab-4

by Greg Keyes

  "Maybe if you had, I wouldn't be involved in all of this now."

  Z'Acatto laughed again. "Right, that's funny. No matter how bad I made it out to be, it would have sounded exciting to you. And because your father did it, and maybe because I did-"

  "You were both famous."

  "Yes. All the more reason you would have wanted to follow in our footsteps."

  Cazio nodded. "You're probably right. I was a little hardheaded when I was younger."

  "When you were younger? Your head gets harder every day. And a good thing, because you get hit on it more often all the time."

  He handed a bottle down. It was a not very good wine. Cazio took a swallow.

  "What now?" he asked.

  "You seem to have that worked out," z'Acatto said.

  "You're the Emrature," Cazio replied.

  Z'Acatto took the bottle and had another drink.

  "I guess I am," he finally said. "Most of these fellows want to go back to Eslen and fight for Anne. I've never seen the place, and I guess I should."

  "Well, it's something to see," Cazio said, yawning.

  They finished the bottle and started another one before exhaustion overcame the ache in his arm.

  "Back to bed for me," he said, clapping his mentor on the back.

  "We move early," z'Acatto told him.

  "Yes, sir, Cassro," Cazio replied.

  He went back to the wagon and found Austra just as he'd left her. He lay against her, relaxing against the warmth of her body.

  He woke the next morning in exactly the same position. Austra was still quiet, so he thought to rise and help break camp without waking her.

  But as he sat up, he noticed that her eyes were open.

  "Morning, love," he said, and kissed her on the cheek.

  She didn't move, and her eyes were glassy. He shook her, and she didn't respond. He shook her harder.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  DEPOSITIONS

  ANNE STRETCHED her limbs and closed her eyes as a cool zephyr ruffled the grass. Faster snuffled nearby, and a lute sounded in the distance.

  Something tickled against her lips, and with a smile she parted them and gently bit down, filling her mouth with the tart juice of a grape.

  "You didn't peel it," she murmured.

  "Oh, I see where I stand now," the earl of Cape Chavel said. "One day a suitor, the next a Hadamish serving girl."

  "You can be both," Anne said, lazily opening her eyes.

  Gulls fluttered overhead in the sea breeze.

  "This is a nice place," the earl said.

  "One of my favorites, Cape Chavel," she replied.

  "Really?" he said. "Can't you see your way clear to call me Tam?"

  "Can you see your way clear to peeling a grape?"

  He tugged at the sleeve of her dress. "If that's a manner of speaking."

  "You're too bold, sir," she said.

  "I wonder if your legs are freckled," he replied.

  "Huh. I wonder if they are."

  "There you go." He pressed another grape to her lips. This time it was peeled.

  "Very good, Cape Chavel," she said. "You're learning."

  "But we still aren't on a first-name basis?"

  "I think we should be after a few more years of courting. Are you in a rush?"

  "No," he said. His voice became a bit more serious. "It hardly seems necessary now."

  "What do you mean?"

  "You've beaten back the army of Hansa. The Church has withdrawn and is suing for peace."

  "Who told you that?" she asked, pushing up on her elbows.

  "I guess-well, that's the word going around."

  "I've no idea what Hespero wants," she said, "but I doubt very much that it is peace. He's foolish even to come here, given the crimes he's implicated in."

  "I stand corrected, then."

  "Continue to recline instead," Anne said.

  "As you wish."

  "Are you saying you no longer wish to court me?"

  "I'm not saying that at all. But if our courting is pretense to encourage Virgenya to send troops, well, you don't seem to need them."

  "I don't, do I?" Anne replied. "But I'm going to get them anyway. And not by any pretense."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Charles slighted me, and he slighted the empire. What sort of empress would I be if I allowed my subject kings to treat me like that? No, I think we will change the head beneath that crown." She cocked an eye at him and reached to stroke his hair. "I think it would sit well right here," she told him.

  The earl blinked, and his mouth opened. Then he smiled as if he'd just understood a joke.

  "Your Majesty is in a jesting mood."

  "No," she said. "I'm quite serious."

  A troubled look turned his features.

  "What's the matter?" she asked.

  "I hope Your Majesty doesn't think-You can't imagine I had this aim when we began our friendship."

  She shrugged. "I don't care if you did. Loyalty is good, but so is intelligence. When you cast your lot with me, I wasn't the dog favored to win this fight. You took a risk with me, and I won't forget that."

  "I'm not sure what to say, Majesty."

  "I don't require you to say anything," she said. "Just don't pass the news around. I expect your uncle may put up a bit of a fight when you go to claim his hat, and right now we still need our army here. It's not over yet. Even now Hansa is sending another army, larger than the first."

  "You'll crush it as easily."

  "It will be easier," she agreed, "now that I know how to do it."

  "I think you overestimate my uncle's bravery," he said. "When he really comes to understand your power, he won't stand against you. I doubt that any army from anywhere would."

  "Well," Anne said in a speculative tone, "I was very ill treated in Vitellio and Tero Galle. I've half a mind to add them to the empire. Certainly z'Irbina must be taught a lesson."

  He was staring at her again.

  "Don't be so serious," she said. "Let's just come back to this. Our courting is now pretense only for you to kiss me, and I would prefer you start on that now."

  And so he did. His lips were familiar with her neck and shoulder, her hands, the hollow beneath her throat. His hands were acquainted with the broader territory of her body and made themselves languidly busy there. He was not sneaky or apologetic, as Roderick had been. He didn't pretend to have brushed her breast accidentally but went there with confident deliberation.

  And if he explored where he was not allowed, he could tell, and he accepted it, and that was that. It didn't seem to bother him or hurt his feelings or make him seem weak.

  But by the saints he kindled her, found the slow fire in her belly and stroked it out to every inch of her, until all she wanted was for more of her flesh to press his, to feel what two unclothed bodies were like together.

  But not here, where anyone could see. They could go back to the castle, though…

  "Enough," she said faintly. "Enough, Cape Chavel."

  "Is something wrong?" he whispered.

  "Yes," she replied. "I want you. That's what's wrong."

  "Nothing wrong with that," he replied. "I want you, too. You've no idea."

  "No," she said. "I think I have some idea. But we can't. I can't. I'm queen. I have to be responsible. What if I got pregnant, for saints' sake?"

  She was surprised to hear herself say it, but there it was.

  "I understand," he said. "It doesn't make me want you any less."

  She stroked his face. "You're dangerous," she said. "Another few moments and you might have convinced me."

  He smiled halfheartedly. "I'm sorry," he said. "I would not make a mistress of you."

  She nodded.

  "I would make you wife, though, if you would say yes."

  She started to make a joke of that, but then, with a bit of a shock, she understood the look in his eyes.

  "Let's not get in a hurry, Cape Chavel," she said.

  "I
love you."

  "There's no need to say that," she whispered. "Just hush."

  He nodded but looked a little hurt.

  Saints, he's serious, she realized.

  Things felt turned around all of a sudden. She hadn't understood until this moment that she was the one in control of the situation.

  "I'm not closing the door," she said. "When I was younger, it was my dream to marry for love. My mother, my sister-everyone-tried to make me understand that a princess didn't have that option, but I refused to believe it. Now I am queen, and I begin to understand. Marriage isn't something I can choose because my heart or body wants it. You have become dear to me in a very short time, and I am tempted to rush. I can't. Please bear with me, court me, be my friend. I never took you for a man easily discouraged. I hope I wasn't wrong about that."

  He smiled, and this time it looked more sincere. "You weren't."

  "Good." She kissed him again, lightly this time. "And now I'm afraid I must return to the castle. Thank you for a pleasant morning. And welcome back. I'm very well pleased you didn't get yourself killed."

  The morning left her with a pleasant tingle that lasted well into the evening. Emily seemed to be grinning a lot, and Anne was pretty certain the girl had made it her business to watch at least a little of what was going on through the hedges. Anne couldn't really bring herself to care.

  That afternoon she prepared to meet Hespero. After a little consideration, she chose to wear the habit and wimple of a sister of Saint Cer. Then she went to the Red Hall. They were to meet late, after the dinner hour, around ninth bell.

  She made him wait until the eleventh.

  He didn't seem particularly disturbed when she entered alone. He was dressed in the simple black robe and square hat she was accustomed to seeing him in as praifec. He still had the mustache and barb, too.

  "Majesty," he said, bowing.

  "I didn't know your grace accepted me as queen," Anne said. Her heart was beating a little too fast, and she realized that now that he was here, she was nervous.

  She couldn't let that show.

  "It has been difficult for me, I admit," he said. "But I thought to start on a note of conciliation."

  "Well, that's promising," Anne said. "Speak on."

  "News has spread of your rather impressive powers. Would you be surprised to learn that it was not unexpected?"

  "No," Anne said. "I believe you expected it. I believe you did your level best to stop it-stop me-before I realized the extent of them."

  "You can't mean that," Hespero replied. "Why would you think that?"

  Anne waved aside his protest. "Never mind that now. Why have you come here?"

  "To make an offer."

  "And that offer is…?"

  "Your Majesty, I can train you. I can school you in the use of energies which, I assure you, are not done revealing themselves. You will soon face others whose gifts are a match for yours, who also wish to control the emerging sedos throne. Do you know what I mean?"

  "I do," Anne said. "And the fact that I cannot seek you out in vision suggests to me that you are one of them."

  "I have power," he admitted. "I am the Fratrex Prismo of the holy Church, and the faneway one walks to ascend to that position carries…authority. But it isn't me you should be concerned about. It's the other. The one they used to call the Black Jester."

  "The Black Jester? You mean from the histories?"

  "Yes-and no. It's complicated. Suffice to say that he wouldn't be the most pleasant fellow to sit the sedos throne."

  "You'd rather have me, then."

  He pursed his lips. "When I was quite a young man, I had an attish in the Bairghs, and there I discovered some very ancient prophecies that led me to very strange places. One of the strangest was here, below Eslen castle, where a certain prisoner was once kept. I think you know which one I mean."

  "Yes."

  "Those of us steeped in the sedos power have difficulty seeing one another, as you mentioned. But the Kept has no such constraints; the source of his power is not the same. And I extracted a vision or visions from him. He showed me, in effect, some of the results of what will soon happen. Now, as you also know, the future feeds back to the present. The thing each of us is to become beckons us to become it. You had a guide, a tutor, did you not?"

  "Yes," she said.

  "She is in part what was you in the past, but she is also Anne Dare after taking the sedos throne."

  "That's absurd," Anne said, knowing as she said it that it wasn't.

  "Not at all."

  "So you're saying I will take the throne, then?"

  "Maybe. Or maybe he will."

  "And that would be bad."

  "I'm not sure. That's not what I saw, but I imagine that yes, it would be bad. But what I've seen is you."

  "Really? And what did you see?"

  "A demon queen, bruising the world beneath her heel for the thousand years it will take it to utterly die."

  Anne had a sudden, vivid vision of her arilac, the first time she had seen her, a demon without mercy, a thing of pure malevolence. Was that her? What she would become?

  No.

  "That's the most insane thing I've ever heard," she said.

  "Without my help, that's what will happen."

  "And what sort of help are you prepared to give me? The kind you gave my father and sisters? The kind you gave the sisters of Saint Cer? Will you help me as you helped those at the sedos in Dunmrogh? Be aware I have a letter in your own hand implicating you."

  "Anne," Hespero said, his voice tinged with desperation. "The world teeters at the edge of collapse. Almost all futures lead to ruin. I can help you. Do you understand?"

  "No," she snapped. "No, I don't. I can't imagine what is behind your contemptible lie or why you chose to deliver yourself to me, but hear me now: Fratrex Prismo or not, you will answer for your crimes."

  "Do not make an unwise decision here," Hespero said. "Don't you understand? We must mend matters between us and move forward."

  "I'll hear no more of this. You're a murderer, a torturer, and worse." She nodded at her guards.

  "Take him."

  "I'm sorry," Hespero said. "Sleep, everyone."

  Anne felt something warm brush her face. The guards collapsed in midstep.

  "What are you doing?" Anne said.

  "What I must," he replied. "What I probably would have had to do in the end, anyway." He stepped toward her.

  "Stop," she said.

  He shook his head.

  Her fury boiled up, and she sent her will at him. His step faltered, but he came on. She couldn't quite feel him, couldn't boil his blood. Anxiously she pushed deeper, finally sensing something softer, something she could attack. And at least his gifts didn't seem to affect her; she could feel them flailing uselessly about her like butterfly wings.

  But he was standing right next to her. She felt a sharp blow just under her ribs.

  "No!" she said, pushing away, staring at her habit and the dark stain spreading there, at the knife in Hespero's hand.

  Then he caught her by the hair, and she felt it draw across her throat. She felt air blow through her head. She had to do something, stop him, stop him before it was too late…

  But she couldn't think or feel him at all anymore.

  Or anything.

  Hespero knew he had to work quickly, while Anne's blood was still pumping. Holding his hand to her head, he closed his eyes, opened himself to otherwhere, and searched for her life to catch hold of it before the dark river took it away. There he would find the attunements he needed to use her gifts. He would need them to face the Black Jester alone. To win the throne.

  But there was nothing draining from her, no memories or sensations, no power-no gifts.

  He opened his eyes. The blood still was pulsing from her carotid, which meant her heart was still beating. She was still alive despite her empty gaze.

  He'd killed her too fast, knocked the life out of her instead of draining it. H
e'd been in too much of a hurry. But she'd almost had him. Another few seconds would have been enough, and it would have been him, not her, lying there dead.

  The blood stopped. With a sigh, he stood and looked down at her pale corpse.

  "You were always foolish," he said. "You never minded your lessons."

  He hesitated, looking around at the sleeping courtiers. Could he keep them all thus until his army arrived and he could rule safely here?

  Not without Anne's gifts. He was going to have to leave, come back, and fight his way in. How annoying, when he was already here.

  Ever pragmatic, Hespero turned and left the room, the castle, and Eslen. Time was short, and he had leagues to travel and much to do.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  LEAVING

  MURIELE LIFTED pen from paper and turned her head; she'd thought she'd heard a distant strain of music. She went to the balcony but didn't hear anything other than birdsong in the valley. She glanced at what she'd been writing and found she wasn't in a hurry to get it done. It was just something she was doing to pass the time.

  There was a lot of time. Berimund had left men to serve and protect her, but he had departed more than a nineday ago. Her Hanzish wasn't really good enough to have a decent conversation with any of her guards, not that any of them seemed all that interesting.

  She wished she had Alis with her, but she had to face the fact that Alis and Neil were probably dead or at least imprisoned. It wasn't a pleasant thought, but she thought it best that she keep her feet on the ground from here on.

  So she spent her time playing card games with herself, writing letters to Anne that she had no way to deliver, trying to puzzle through the few books available-all in Hanzish except one, a book of meditations on Saint Uni, which was in Church Vitellian.

  She was still shocked at how wrong it had all gone. Was it her fault? Was it her own mouth that had condemned her? Maybe, but it seemed to her that Marcomir would have found an excuse even if she'd stayed as quiet as a mouse. No, it was the embassy itself that had been the mistake.

  But the man at the table always knows what the cook should have done, and there was no going back.