The Curse Giver

by Dora Machado

  “You’re wearing my robe.”

  “Let me explain—”

  “I like it.”

  She gulped, although she had no spit to swallow. His moods waned and ebbed too fast to keep track.

  “I’ve brought you something.” He opened the door. Two red-haired girls stood outside, one younger than the other. “Irina, Caryna, this is Mistress Lusielle. Mistress Lusielle, may I present the lord and ladies of Konia. They’ll only journey with us for a day or two,” he added, as if apologizing.

  Lusielle realized that things had gone very badly in Konia if Bren had brought the children along. “It’s nice to make your acquaintance,” she said. “Have you girls eaten?”

  “Only a little on the way,” Irina said.

  “Well, then, we should correct that.” Lusielle called on Elfu and Carfu. “Elfu, could you please prepare some pallets for these children down in the hull where it’s warm and dry? Carfu, could you take these young mistresses to the aft deck and feed them some of the soup I made earlier today? I’ll be over presently.”

  “Don’t you think Elfu and Carfu are bound to scare the girls?” Bren said as he watched the foursome leave.

  “Elfu and Carfu may scare grown men, but they helped raise me. They’ll be great with the girls. I can’t think of anyone on this barge better for the job. Now, what about this young lordling stuck to you?”

  “He won’t let go,” Bren said. “He’s been on me for hours on end, even as we rode back.”

  Lusielle approached the little boy and, offering her arms, tried to lure the child away.

  The boy buried his little face under Bren’s neck and clung to his cloak with a desperate grip. “Dada.”

  “Oh,” Lusielle said. “He seems a little—er—confused? Unless he’s—”

  “No, nay, he’s not mine,” Bren said. “But believe me, after all the things he’s seen, he’s got the right to be confused.”

  “He must like you very much. He looks tired. Why don’t you try rocking him to sleep?”

  “How do I do that?”

  “Sit here.” She patted the berth. “Rock back and forth. Maybe you can sing him a song?”

  “What kind of a song?”

  “A lullaby?”

  “Don’t know any.” He shrugged. “Maybe you should be doing the singing?”

  “All right.” Lusielle tried to remember one of the lullabies she used to sing to her brother when he was little.

  “Little boy of the forest, it’s time to rest.

  Little boy of the village, come home from play.

  Little boy of the mountains, the sun has set.

  Little boy from the prairie, come find your rest.

  The light in the forest has dimmed to gray.

  The lamps in the village are bright awake.

  The sun in the mountains has gone away.

  The moon on the prairie has found its way ….”

  Before she was done with her song, the boy was out. As was Bren, although he was still rocking back and forth, following the song’s slow cadence. After fleeing the king’s river wardens and traveling back and forth to Konia’s seed house, he had to be exhausted.

  Lusielle took the sleeping child from Bren’s arms, settled him on one side of the berth and coaxed Bren to lie down. There was something evocative about seeing the present Lord of Laonia and the future lord of Konia sharing the innocence of a restful slumber.

  Looking at the pair, she could see the man the child would become and the child the man had once been. She mouthed a little prayer that the child should grow to be strong and rule his land in justice; that the man should endure to rule long and live in peace.

  Quickly, she dressed in her now dry garments and carried the toddler down to the hull, where Elfu had just finished making the pallets. Leaving the sleeping boy in Elfu’s care, she bustled on to give comfort to Konia’s orphaned girls.

  Chapter Forty-four

  BREN OPENED HIS EYES AND BLINKED, trying to remember how by the Twins he had come to be asleep so soundly. Had Lusielle managed to feed him some of her soothing tea again? A memory of her sweet song teased him back into a relaxed stupor. Then he remembered the events at Konia and the murderous wine cask, which he had destroyed before leaving. He sat up. He couldn’t afford to sleep now.

  He marched out of the cabin and spotted a bank of fog traveling upriver. He gave the pilot instructions and checked with the watchman to make sure he was alert. He found Lusielle and the Konian girls in the forward deck, huddled together around the brazier, giggling and clapping while Carfu played a flute.

  Bren paused beyond the shadows to watch the cozy scene. The girls seemed happy. Lusielle had an easy way with them. It was nice to see the girls at ease despite the horror they had witnessed. What would happen to them?

  Bren knew he had to protect his best friend’s children from Teos’s heartless designs and Riva’s ambitions. His circumstances were hardly favorable to take on additional responsibilities, but he had to find a way to care for Irina, Caryna and little Marcus. He had to make sure they were safe.

  Lusielle’s eyes met him across the fire. He motioned for her to come over. Her smile as she got up warmed his belly much better than the fire. He had a memory of her sleeping in his arms last night, of the kiss they had shared before he’d had to leave this morning. They were the same memories that had sustained him through the difficult day and quickened his return journey’s pace.

  “Everything in order?” he asked when she joined him.

  “They’re nice girls,” Lusielle said. “Except for the fact that they think they’re cursed.”

  “Cursed?” Bren choked and went into a coughing fit.

  “There, there.” Lusielle thumped on his back. “I’ll have to mix you a tonic to help with the dry throat. Is that better?”

  “Thanks.”

  “Those Konian highborn are very superstitious,” Lusielle said. “Is that so with all highborn?”

  “You could say that,” Bren said, trying to sound casual.

  “Would you like some soup?”

  “No soup.” He made a conscious effort to soften his voice. “Maybe later. I have to speak to Hato.”

  “I’ll save you some for later then.”

  “Later then,” Bren said, before turning to the girls. “The fog’s coming in. Time to go below deck. You ladies ought to be in bed.”

  “We’re going to have a slumber party with Lusielle,” Irina announced. “It’ll be fun.”

  “It’ll be like having an adventure,” little Caryna said.

  “We’ll see about that,” Bren said, a bit too sternly. “Off with you, to your pallets.”

  “Do we have to go to bed?” Caryna clung to Lusielle’s hand. “He’s no fun.”

  “Oh, he’s not so bad.” Lusielle hugged the little girl. “He’s all roar and no fangs. Now go with Irina. I’ll come to tuck you in as soon as I clean up here.”

  Bren watched the orphaned girls mosey on to the steps. Leave it to Lusielle to befriend and comfort them so well. In just a few hours, she had won them over. The girls in turn seemed to have put a claim on her.

  Bren wondered why he found himself resenting that claim. The answer was easy, but as he went on to find Hato, he was surprised all the same: He was dead set on later and the girls were not the only ones who wanted to have a sleepover with Lusielle.

  Chapter Forty-five

  SEVERO KEPT WATCH BY THE STAIRS, listening to the wind blowing on the sails and the water rustling against the hull. The bruise on his cheek throbbed. Lord Hato might be old, but he was still strong and there was nothing wrong with his hand.

  Severo wavered between outrage and acceptance. He accepted admonishment for failing to prevent the murder attempt, but he didn’t appreciate Lord Hato making an example of him in front of the others, especially when he was by far the best scout in the troop.

  The murder attempt on the woman baffled him. He had been watching over her, paying attention. He could have sworn
by his house’s seal that he had taken all the precautions necessary to keep the woman safe. How by the damn Twins had anyone gotten past him?

  As to the wench, she was also a puzzle to him. Simply put, she was the most uncommon woman he had ever met, especially considering that she wasn’t even highborn. Perhaps she wasn’t as useless as he had first believed. Perhaps there was something to her talents after all. Maybe she knew what she was doing.

  She had cured his horse and in doing so, she had done him a great favor, even after he’d made her life difficult and teased and mocked her to his heart’s content. And all she had wanted in exchange was a bath?

  Then there was the matter of his lord. He had actually survived a blade that should have killed him. By all accounts, the woman had saved his lord’s life and cared for him almost as well as he and the Twenty would have done, maybe even better. Severo couldn’t decide on the nature of her talents, but it was reasonable to assume that she was a very effective healer.

  A new set of questions burned in his mind: Could her talents assist his lord in his quest? Could her craft help the Lord of Laonia to survive his plight? Severo had been so sure when he found her that she had been a fake or a plant. Now he wondered: Could she be what his lord needed?

  Damn the Twins. He was getting carried away. Severo knew better. Just because she was a good healer didn’t mean she could help defeat the curse. Theoretically, she could still be a trap. The gods would have to be mighty generous to the house they had betrayed for her to be anything other than the competent remedy mixer she appeared to be. Given that the Twins had been so glaringly absent and detached from Laonia lately, he didn’t think miracles were likely.

  In any case, the wench was growing on him. She was pleasant to look at, competent at her trade and smart. True, she still frightened him sometimes, but as long as she cared for his lord, as long as he wanted her around, Severo was willing to stand her.

  Steps echoed on the deck before Severo spotted the Lord of Laonia coming out of the mist wrapped in his black mantle. He gulped. No matter what, this wasn’t going to be pretty.

  Lord Bren stood before him and clasped his hands behind his back. “The Lord Hato told me everything that happened while I was gone.”

  “Sorry, my lord,” Severo mumbled.

  “Sorry is for fools,” the lord said. “You were in charge of the watch when it happened.”

  “I was but steps away from the woman.”

  “Mistress Lusielle.”

  “My lord?”

  “You will not call her ‘the woman,’ ‘the wench,’ ‘the little witch,’ or any other pet names you and the men think might be funny,” the lord said in an exacting tone. “You will call her Mistress Lusielle.”

  “As you wish, my lord.”

  “I won’t have idiots on my watches, so I aim to punish you in the worst possible way.”

  Severo stared at his feet. “I guess I deserve punishment, my lord.”

  “I’m going to make your life difficult, miserable in fact. You’re going to beg me for mercy, but don’t bother, because you won’t have it.”

  The blood drained from Severo’s face. “I can take thirty lashes, my lord.”

  “Thirty lashes?” The lord smirked. “You are going to wish you had been put to the lash when I’m done with you. I guarantee it.”

  Fear tightened Severo’s loins. His lord had never spoken to him like that.

  “From now on,” the lord said, “for as long as you live, you’re going to watch over Mistress Lusielle.”

  “Me?” Severo stammered. “Watch over her?”

  “Yes, you,” the lord said. “You’re going to be responsible for her safety and her life. You’re going to make sure she suffers no offense, harm or injury, physical or otherwise, under any circumstances.”

  “B-but my lord, the woman is known to be reckless—”

  “Precisely, Severo.” The Lord of Laonia flashed a bitter smile. “Atone for your shortcomings and arm yourself with resolve, because starting immediately, you’re going to be a wretchedly worried man.”

  Chapter Forty-six

  BREN FOUND HATO IN THE BACK of the cargo hull, poring over his journals and documents. Hato was looking haggard these days. Loose folds of skin hung like hammocks beneath his eyes. Deep lines flanked his thin lips like feeble sentinels. Yet he smiled when he saw Bren, a hopeful smile Bren hadn’t seen on his mentor’s gaunt face in a long time.

  Hato had obviously been awaiting Bren’s return from Konia. He had reported all of his findings as soon as Bren made it back to the barge. In exchange, Bren had summarized the day’s events for Hato, bringing him up to date.

  “Any news from Cirillo?” Bren asked.

  “No news as of yet,” Hato said. “He has a difficult charge. Commandeering another vessel in these busy waters will be hard. The trip upriver to Laonia will be long and few will want to accept a charge of Laonian soldiers along with the three children, as you propose.”

  “I can’t think of any other place but Laonia where I can ensure the children’s safety.”

  “Not even at one of the temples?”

  “After the Pious, I don’t think the temples are safe.”

  He placed Lord Arnulf’s box on Hato’s makeshift desk. “The code requires that when a highborn lord dies, his testament box is opened in the presence of two or more highborn who must witness the contents. Whatever is stored here could very well shed light on the massacre at the Konian seed house. It could either clear or blame Laonia for the tragedy. Do you think that the two of us are sufficient to witness Lord Arnulf’s testament?”

  “I won’t lie to you,” Hato said. “I’m curious to know what’s in there. By the code, we’re sufficient, but ….”

  “But?”

  “I think we should be cautious. Both of us hail from Laonia. If highborn from other territories are not present when we break the seal, people will find reason to raise accusations against us. They’ll say we changed the contents to our advantage, that we took out or added things that favor our cause. On the other hand ….”

  “Yes?”

  “If you choose not to break the seal, we won’t know what’s in the box. And if Arnulf believed that you furnished the Laonian wine that killed his people then the alliance between Laonia and Konia is over.”

  Bren agreed. He took a deep breath. “What do you think will happen to Laonia when I die, Hato?”

  “It’s not something I want to think about, my lord.”

  “I have to think about it. Do you think there’ll be a war of succession? An invasion from Riva? Will the territory just break apart? Will the people give up on the idea of a united Laonia?”

  Hato shrugged. “I think war in some scenario or another is the likely outcome.”

  “That is, providing that Teos doesn’t rebuke the territory’s charter, a scenario possible if Laonia is censured for acts of war.”

  “True.”

  “The way I see it, if I can’t defeat the curse, the least I can do is leave the Laonian people some choice about their destiny. As long as the territory isn’t censured and the charter is intact, Laonians will have a say in their futures. For as long as I live, I can’t allow Laonia to be censured. Laonia has to be my priority.”

  Bren’s fingers caressed the seal on the box. It was so tempting. Perhaps he could stack the odds to Laonia’s benefit …. But lying to tell the truth was still lying. It would only serve to muddle the facts. His hand curled into a fist.

  “We are not going to open Lord Arnulf’s testament box,” Bren said. “The seal must remain unbroken until fair witnesses are available. Justice for Laonia takes precedence above all else.”

  “Yet you seem uncomfortable with your decision,” Hato said.

  “You’ll be uncomfortable with my decision too when I tell you about my conversation with Irina, the oldest of the Konian girls.”

  “You talked to the girl?”

  “I asked her if she was about when her grandfather sealed
the box. She said she had to help him because he was too ill to do it. I asked her if she knew what he put in the box.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She placed the items in the box herself,” Bren said. “There were two letters, one large roll—I’m guessing that’s Konia’s charter—Arnulf’s lordship ring, the key to his vaults and one other thing.”

  “What?”

  “A small leather pouch with what she described as a little roll of ripped vellum.” Bren took a deep breath. “She said it was addressed to me.”

  Chapter Forty-seven

  ONCE ALL THE CHILDREN WERE ASLEEP, Lusielle wrapped her cloak around her shoulders and tiptoed up the stairs. The day had been long, the night was coming to an end and her mind was spinning with a million thoughts. She longed to clear her head, but as soon as she stepped onto the deck, she found her way blocked by a human wall.

  “Where are you going?” Severo said.

  “Where I go and what I do is not your affair,” Lusielle said.

  “I think you’d be better off staying inside, mistress.”

  “Mistress?” Lusielle gaped. “Since when do you call the likes of me ‘mistress’?”

  “Never mind that, mistress. It’s coldest before dawn. You’ll catch a cold if you step out. Best stay warm inside.”

  “Are you ill?” Lusielle stood on the tip of her toes and put her hand to Severo’s forehead. “No fever. I’ll have to mix you something to alleviate your violent mood swings. They seem common to the Laonian blood. Now, please, let me pass. I’d like to take a stroll on the deck.”

  “It’s dark,” Severo said. “You could fall overboard. You could trip on the ropes and break your ribs.”

  “I could get hit straight on by a sparrow’s beak and lose an eye too, but it’s not likely to happen.”

  “Mistress, please, be sensible,” the man begged. “You could bump your head on the mast. You could slip on the deck and crack your skull.”

  “What is it to you if I do?” Lusielle said. “I know that you and the Twenty don’t want me around, but I’m not intimidated by the lot of you. Stand aside and let me be.”