The Baker's Wife--complete

by Amy Keeley

  “I’m aware of that.”

  “Walk with me, Dog Jhohdi?”

  Razev shook his head. “We are to search for the Ornic. You yourself gave the command and we do not chat until the job is done.”

  “But that is what I wish to speak to you about. My time as your temporary commander is coming to an end. I would like to have a report to give when I return.” He glanced around at the others. “Or I could command them to leave us be.”

  Razev studied Teranasin, wondering what scheme he had cooked up in his head. He’s not too far from Zhiv, he considered, though he had to admit, looking in those amber eyes, that he would much prefer whatever scheme Zhiv had planned to this. Especially after looking at his sister’s former home. “Go,” he said to the others. They glanced among themselves, their surprise only known to Dogs like him. “See if you can find the next portal. I’ll be with you soon.” To the one holding the coneys, he said, “Use some fire, and eat on the way.”

  They all nodded, and the one holding the coneys began the drawing over the coneys that would skin and light them as they walked.

  “Frightening the populace are we?” Teranasin said once they’d left.

  “We have a rogue Dog who burned down a house earlier.”

  Teranasin’s face grew sober. As well it should, Razev thought. Watching it only increased his hatred of the noble. “Any idea who did it?”

  “None.” He knew exactly who had done it. Ishia had been the King’s favorite among the Dogs, and for her to do something like this, meant her new master had the King’s approval as well. Given the fact that Teranasin had spent many hours talking with her, he had a feeling there was more to Teranasin’s politics than a simple need for an opinion.

  He made a good show of confusion. “Why burn it?”

  “Why else? Someone had enough money to make the Dog forget its oath.”

  The truth, of course, was that, for whatever reason, Ishia had acted on orders from Teranasin. Perhaps Ishia had wandered through the house first. Perhaps she had seen something suspicious. Or perhaps there had been nothing and this was Teranasin's way of putting his future subjects in fear.

  Teranasin nodded slowly. “Thank you. I shall tell Lord Felldesh.” He paused. “He might take this the wrong way, however.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s just that we’ve heard reports of someone working magic in this area. A woman. Some whisper she’s from the Ornic tribes to the north, some say she’s descended from the minstrel tribes of Okya Valley, and some say she’s a perfectly harmless woman. And some whisper that the Ornic has been visiting her for years.”

  “That’s a lot of things to say.”

  “I’m just wondering...it seems that someone like the Ornic couldn’t have done what he did without study. And for him to go as long as he did without being caught, when Ornic magic requires knowledge of ancient spells—”

  “The Ornic was, if memory serves, the last of the great minstrels of Okya Valley. They had stories and spells that were closer to the Ornic tradition than any other group in the kingdom.”

  “True. But you and I both know the man was as young as me. I saw him with my own eyes as he cast, and that wasn’t something he could have picked up from a book and suddenly been able to do like that,” he snapped his fingers, “the moment he wanted to attack. It takes time and practice. Either that, or he’s the most brilliant caster ever born, which, frankly, I doubt.”

  “If you’re implying—”

  “I’m implying that the Dogs have gone soft. It isn’t your fault. You haven’t had an enemy worth remembering, even before the events at Okya Valley. The Ornic lords either died long ago, or became Tothsin and forgot the ancient magic themselves. Now, someone has found it, brought it to life like a creature from the ancient tales, lifted it up, and caused it to shine with a brilliance that shows us the darkness of our own ignorance. I am implying, Dog Jhohdi, that the people are forgetting why magic is restricted. And when people forget why, they forget to obey. I am implying that the citizens of our kingdom, some of them, have been secretly performing illegal magic, and that no one has stopped them.”

  “The Disciples say the same.”

  Teranasin’s smile chilled Razev. “And in that one thing, they’re correct. People are weak, Razev. Time breaks them.”

  Razev’s breath caught in his chest. It took every bit of self-control his training had given him not to let his terror show. “Who is Razev?”

  “You may think to kill me, Razev Mikailsin, for what I’m about to do. But remember, you were smarter than your brother. You chose a good path, and if you serve me well, that path will continue, unbroken. You, and your wife, and your sons, and daughter.”

  “I am not the person you think I am.”

  “Absolutely not.” His eyes glittered with triumph. “Your sister was very sentimental. And your brother careless.” He took a small portrait out and tossed it at Razev’s feet. He didn’t need to look down at it to recognize it.

  He was twenty-two and Zhiv was nineteen. “This is a bad idea,” he said as he stared at the portrait.

  Ziria had always had a gift with painting. The brush moved and, no matter how awkward the position, the spells she put on the paint always seemed to make her creation look however she wanted. Among minstrels, it was a minor art. Among farmers, it was useful only for decorating walls or creating signs. But in this moment, when he stared at Zhiv and himself, not as they were when they were younger, but as they were now, he in his uniform, and Zhiv in the clothes of the King’s minstrel, on either side of their sister, who looked radiant in the traditional clothes of the Okya Valley tribes, he realized the depth of her talent.

  It was a perfect likeness. And neither man had posed for it.

  “I want something to remind me that we’re family,” she said. “I dream about you and Zhiv, awful dreams. I want something to remind me that, no matter what’s happened to our family, we love each other.”

  Razev didn’t look down. “That means nothing.”

  “Ah, but you see, I have friends. And one of those friends, is friends with the one who recruited you. And then there’s me.”

  Razev snorted. “You?”

  “Until I met Ishia, I thought Dogs couldn’t smile. I never saw one of them do it. But when I showed you the map, you did. Very, very briefly. And that was when I realized why you looked so familiar. You have your brother’s smile. Or does he have yours?” Teranasin waved the question away as if it didn’t matter. “So, Razev, that leaves us with a very real problem. I’m sure you see why.”

  His whole body was tensed, ready to counter any spell Teranasin threw at him. “I’m no traitor.”

  “No, but your brother is. And now your sister is on the run, with the accusation of Ornic magic trailing her as surely as the magic in the boots she wears that help her move faster than any man alive. This is a bigger problem than just those two. A much bigger problem. People have forgotten and—”

  Tired of the lies, both the ones he’d heard and the ones he’d given, Razev said, “You want the throne, and you want the Dogs to put you there. And I’m one of them. You want to make sure I don’t betray you.”

  Teranasin’s eyes betrayed nothing. “I want more than that, actually. I want you to leave the portals, and I want you to go directly to your brother and bring him to justice.”

  “I don’t know where he is.”

  “I imagine not. The rift between you has lasted some years, hasn’t it?” Teranasin frowned, appearing surprisingly thoughtful. “Much has been forgotten, Razev. Too much. Zhiv saw it, and I’m sure you’ve seen it now. King Jivon saw it as well. Spells that once were an integral part of a Dog’s training are now remembered only by the oldest among the pack. Life must either turn one way or another. Either we choose to forget everything, burn all we can find that might point our memories back to the forbidden...or we pick up where we left off and recreate a time that nearly destroyed us. No tricks in that. Lord Felldesh, howeve
r, refuses to see it.” Teranasin sighed and Razev almost believed he was sincerely troubled by Lord Felldesh. In fact, the more he looked at the young noble, the more he believed Teranasin felt honest distress at what was occurring. He smiled, but it was a cynical, bitter one, more fitting to who he truly was. “I want power, Razev. I won’t deny that. But I also have no wish to destroy anything sound.”

  “And the portals? What if someone finds and uses them for themselves?”

  “We’ll have the Dogs guard the more important ones. If they’re under the King’s protection, what’s the harm in it? They didn’t build the spell, and we could have gatekeepers who could guide them from one place to another. It might actually revolutionize the kingdom. Trade would speed up, goods would move at a faster pace, and luxuries would no longer be luxurious. Everyone would benefit. We could even learn how to build ones large enough to transport wagons full of goods, long caravans even. Felldesh doesn’t see this. All he sees is the potential for evil. But tell me, Razev, if Zhiv had had the ability to do what he wanted without learning Ornic magic, would he have tried? If he hadn’t been threatened with death for simple spells, would he have become an enemy to the kingdom?” Teranasin shook his head. “I don’t expect you to agree. I only know what I’ve seen, and what I’ve experienced. And I must confess that, in this at least, I’m like Zhiv. His mistake was in taking the law into his own hands.”

  “And you won’t do the same?”

  “Of course not. The Dogs are the law. And I’m sure you’ll find many among the nobles who stand against what’s best for the people.”

  “The ones you haven’t paid off.”

  Teranasin’s grin made Razev sick. “I will be King, Razev. And I will usher in an age of freedom the like of which none have seen since the days of the Ornic. Without,” he held up a finger, “returning to their sins.”

  Razev didn’t take his eyes off the young lord. He was indeed much like Zhiv. And yet...and yet, in Zhiv there was a kindness—a weakness, Zhiv had once called it—that existed in spite of his cynicism and self-centeredness. Though he could see Zhiv killing those who were truly evil, or intended harm, he could never see him killing those who simply opposed him.

  And yet, he’d killed the royal family. Father. Mother. Children.

  Which, if Teranasin were anything like Zhiv, might actually make him even more dangerous. “And if I refuse?”

  “Consider that one of the Dogs may have already destroyed one-third of the survivors of the Okya Valley massacre. One is on the run and will be found soon enough, with or without your help. And the one who thought he was safe, has children who play among the Dogs.”

  If Teranasin had put bands on Razev’s hands and fingers, he couldn’t have trapped him more thoroughly. Ishia served Teranasin. Who else? He wouldn’t mention that as a threat unless he had more serving him than one. Voice hoarse, Razev said, “How soon do you need him?”

  Teranasin’s shrug was light, casual, as if he were discussing what to wear at the next feast. “Tomorrow or the day after. The nobles are moving fast and it looks to be a split decision on the next King. If I have the Ornic, however—” he shrugged again and turned with all the nonchalance a young noble should have, walking into the darkness of the forest. “I shall see you back at the castle when you’ve completed your task. Bring him bound, but not punished. Not a mark. I want him fully coherent when the time comes for his execution.”

  Teranasin swirled what appeared to be a cloak around his shoulders, wrapping himself entirely in it. The cloth hung, suspended, then fell to the ground. Empty.

  Walking forward, Razev picked it up off the ground and dusted it off. This wasn’t the first time Teranasin had used this portal. He could feel it in the magic left behind.

  His fist tightened around the material. It didn’t matter if he’d smiled or not, he tried to tell himself. There had been the picture. Ziria’s silly picture that he knew was dangerous the moment she had showed it to him. Zhiv hadn’t talked her out of it, and likely for the same reason. She had wanted them to be a family. And they had wanted it, too.

  Who will protect us? Zhiv had asked. Who indeed. Not me. The thought made him clench his jaw against tears that threatened to show in his eyes.

  Zhiv had killed the royal family. He could take care of himself.

  But Ziria. She’d done nothing wrong.

  Taking a steadying breath, he turned back to follow his comrades and inform them of the change.

  “Pssssh. Pssssh.”

  The sound made him pause. No nighttime bird made that noise. His blood chilled when he thought who it might be. He clicked his tongue, hoping he wouldn’t hear what he knew he would.

  “Pssh, pssssssssh.” And then a click.

  “Ziria?”

  “You were hoping for Zhiv?” His sister emerged from the underbrush, dusting off her skirt and pulling a stray twig out of her hair.

  He hesitated. “Ziri—”

  “I heard most of that, by the way. I know you’re in a bind.” And yet, there was no softness in her voice.

  “He killed the royal family, Ziri,” he said in a loud whisper.

  “No, he didn’t. Circle damned, Raz, you didn’t even bother to come to me and ask.”

  “Oh, that would have looked very good,” he nearly snapped. “I go to visit a woman of no relation for no reason—”

  “You’d have found one.”

  “I can’t afford to look for one. I couldn’t then, either.”

  Ziri’s nod looked strange in the moonlight. Too slow. “Answer me this, would Zhiv have killed children?”

  “I don’t—”

  “He knows firsthand the pain of death. Do you really think, carrying that with him all this time, that he would inflict that on another child? And you called him dirt-for-brains.”

  Razev refused to think of that. It brought back memories of singing, in his awful voice, to Zhiv while he stared wild-eyed at images no one else could see and spoke like a madman. It didn’t matter anyway. Zhiv’s magic was all over the grand staircase. “If he’d truly wanted to destroy the line of succession, I have no doubt he would have made it quick.”

  Ziria’s palm flew across his cheek, stinging it. “Take it back.” Her voice trembled with unshed tears.

  He remained silent.

  “Zhiv was right,” she finally said. “You really did grow into that vest.”

  “You didn’t see his face when he said he was going to kill the King.” It was a struggle now to keep his voice down.

  “Nine years. That’s all I know. Nine years he—”

  “Waited. That’s all he did.”

  “—served the King. He talked to him, listened when no one else would and yes, he likely did that just to find a way to go through with it. But somewhere along the way, he changed his mind.”

  “What, did you see them together?”

  Ziria looked sad. “Did you? Zhiv said he never saw you, not even once, after he was hired.”

  “I was assigned elsewhere.”

  “How convenient.”

  “Not convenient. Necessary.”

  “Only for you.”

  “What’s done is done. We all have to live with that, Zhiv more than either of us, and don’t think I don’t think of that. But we both moved on, you with yours, I with mine. If Zhiv had married, settled down—”

  “Even if he didn’t have the remnants of the spell to deal with, you know that’s not who he is.”

  “No.” He got a sour taste in his mouth. “He’s too much like Da.”

  For the first time, Ziria chuckled. “He’d hit you if he heard you say that.”

  “And that, dear sister, is why we no longer talk.” He looked out beyond the forest, down the way the rest of the pack had gone. “Do you have enough to get you where you need to go?”

  “Of course. Do you want to know where I’m going?”

  He smiled, his face aching from the effort. “I think I’d rather not. All things considered.”

&n
bsp; “Yes. I imagine so.” She hesitated. “I may never see you again.”

  He couldn’t speak, so only nodded. With one arm, he reached out and pulled her close to him. He was taller now, though she was older. It felt odd, and he realized the last time he had held her close had been when she had announced she was to marry a farmer. There had been jokes from Zhiv, and complaints from him, but Razev and Zhiv had both known what it meant. It meant the beginning of the end.

  He held her close for a long moment, then let her go. Not looking back, he said, his voice tight with unshed tears “Toth bless your way, goodwife.”

  “And yours, Dog Jhohdi.” Then, more softly. “Razev.”

  He paused, yet did not turn.

  “Trust Zhiv. He didn’t do what they said he did. Ask about the clock tower and the rift and the magic is inside the Queen’s chambers.”

  He did turn at that. But she was gone.

  His head full of both conversations and what they meant, he caught up to the others. He told them he would travel with them to the next town. They would continue on and post guards at each portal they found. He would travel back to Hurush. That is what he told them. And then they bedded down for the longest night Razev had had since they’d begun to travel.

  In the morning, when they arrived at the next town, the people ran to meet them, saying they had caught a woman with Ornic boots on her feet. They’d kept them as evidence.

  He saw the engraving, and remembered how his sister had taught them both, Razev and Zhiv, the markings. And the characters. And the words. It was her spell that had saved them.

  Jaw clenched, he took the boots from the old woman who handed them over with a lifted chin. “We got her, all right,” the woman was saying. “And the Disciple judged her, with a Dog presiding over it.”

  “Local?”

  “Not the Dog,” one of the men said. “She was traveling through, she said, looking for the Ornic.”