Fire of the Soul

by Speer, Flora

  Durand was the son of an impoverished nobleman, with no hope of inheriting anything from his father or any other relatives. The castle where he was born was long sold to pay his late father’s debts. Shortly after he was knighted Durand had joined the small group of men who carried out private missions for King Henryk. For his bravery and daring as Henryk’s spy in the Dominion, he had earned enough gold to provide a sorely needed dowry for his only sister, Ilona, so she could make a good marriage. But Durand remained a man without a home, an oddity in Sapaudian society.

  “I require your word that you will not divulge what I am about to tell you,” Durand said.

  “You have it,” Garit told him. “I assume the secret you think I should know has to do with our mission?”

  “I have been thinking about the problem ever since I realized that your stepmother is the lady of Kinath,” Durand said.

  “There I cannot be helpful to you. I haven’t seen Fenella for years. She doesn’t like me. If you are hoping I can wend my way into her good graces, that isn’t very likely,” Garit said. “My grandmother is in a better position to become close to Fenella.” He almost suggested Calia as a prospective friend who was close in age to his stepmother but, not wanting to provide Durand with a reason to spend private time with the woman he intended to marry, he restrained himself.

  “Lady Elgida may well inform me of any interesting details she learns about Lady Fenella,” Durand said.

  “So, you’ve been charming her, have you?”

  “Charming ladies is part of my work.”

  Garit almost warned him not to try to charm Calia unless he wanted a meeting at sword’s point, but again he held his tongue.

  “The fact that I’ve decided you must be told is this,” Durand said. “The man who recently married Lady Fenella is the illegitimate son of Walderon of Catherstone.”

  “What?” Garit stared at him in disbelief. “You must be mistaken. I know of a legitimate son, but no other children.”

  “Few did know about Mallory. He grew up at Catherstone and seldom left the place. As you know, when Walderon was convicted of treason, all of his lands were confiscated. King Henryk later restored to Walderon’s widow one of the small estates that she brought to her husband as her dowry, so she’d have an income. She then bestowed that land on her only son, who was left destitute by his father’s treachery. I’ve heard that the young man lives there quietly, having no taste for dealing with the gossips at the royal court. He has sworn fealty to King Henryk and we have no reason to think he bears a grudge against the king. What he feels about his late father, I do not know.”

  “You said Fenella’s new husband is the illegitimate son,” Garit prompted.

  “Sir Mallory; his father personally knighted him. Mallory was turned out of Catherstone when King Henryk seized his father’s lands. He fled into exile on the Northern Border of Kantia and there he joined the hangers-on around Prince Dyfrig. He later moved to Kantia with Dyfrig when Dyfrig became king.”

  “And then he married my widowed stepmother,” Garit finished.

  “On the surface, he hasn’t done anything that two dozen or so other ambitious young nobles at King Dyfrig’s court haven’t also done,” Durand continued. “Dyfrig is eager to establish his friends in his kingdom so they will have good reason to support him. The quickest, easiest way to do that is to marry those friends off to Kantian heiresses. Or else to marry the daughters of his friends to Kantian noblemen.”

  “Dear Heavenly Blue Sky.” Garit swore softly as he considered the situation. “It would seem that my grandmother was right to be concerned about my half-brothers.”

  “We don’t know for certain that Mallory has any evil intentions toward his stepsons,” Durand said. “He may be content to accept whatever honors King Dyfrig bestows on him and leave high ambition to others. But, knowing of your past conflict with Walderon, and since you are bound for Kinath, I thought you should be aware who the new guardian of the castle is.”

  “Thank you,” Garit said, and honestly meant the words.

  “I also think you should know that other schemes are presently in play. King Henryk wants to keep King Dyfrig friendly toward Sapaudia, so he won’t have to look over his shoulder at the Kantians while he’s dealing with the Dominion, which may become a dangerous problem if Domini Gundiac dies. In his note, King Henryk orders us to maintain the Sapaudian friendship with Kantia as part of our assignment, in addition to determining whether the Emerald has been taken there. Garit, I must repeat, you cannot tell anyone what I’ve just said to you about Sir Mallory. Not Lady Elgida, not Calia, and not your squire or your men-at-arms.”

  “I know what’s at stake in the conflict with the Dominion, so I agree entirely,” Garit responded. “With the exception of Anders.”

  “I said, no one is to know,” Duran repeated with cold purpose in his voice. “You gave your word.”

  “Anders is my half-brother, my father’s son.” Garit’s tone was as chilly as Durand’s had been. “I trust him with my life and my honor. If I need to be informed on this subject, then so does he. I will tell him, and swear him to silence.”

  “I have said as much as I have solely as a favor to you.” Durand was obviously angry.

  “I understood from King Henryk that you and I were to be equal partners in this mission,” Garit said. “I expect to be as fully informed as you are.”

  “You will be. And I will hold you to your promise of silence.”

  “Then you will have to accept my word, too,” Anders said, coming forward out of the dimness. “I didn’t intend to eavesdrop, Garit. Blame my dark cloak and my ability to walk softly. You never guessed I was standing nearby. Lord Durand, I have not met Lady Fenella’s sons, but they are my blood kin, my father’s sons as truly as I am, or Garit is. Therefore, I have a duty to protect them, with my life if necessary, until they are old enough to protect themselves. I do swear to you that I’ll reveal to no living soul what you’ve said here.”

  “My squire’s word,” Garit said, placing a hand on Anders’s shoulder, “is as good as mine. You trusted me with your secret information. Now trust my brother.”

  “Do I have a choice?” Durand demanded angrily. But after a moment he smiled. “On second thought, I can see some benefit here. I can be confident that I’m sending two honest men into Kinath to learn whatever they can about Mallory. I’ll be greatly interested to hear what you discover. Once your grandmother is convinced that those two little boys are safe, we can investigate the situation at the royal court at Kerun and begin our search for the Emerald.”

  Chapter 11

  The next day The Kantian Queen sailed through calm waters past a flat shoreline of low grasses, with many small streams to drain the swampy land. The area was a haven for seabirds that occasionally rose in great flocks of swirling white or grey, to circle in the air before settling to earth again to search for the insects and fish on which they fed. In the distance beyond the grasslands a range of low hills was partially obscured by lavender mist.

  “Peaceful, isn’t? You’d never guess this land shelters the most vicious pirates in the known world,” Captain Pyrsig said to Garit, who was standing next to him on deck. “I recognize this shore. It’s the coast of Mataram. I’ve been here before several times, when the wind blew me off course.

  “Just ahead is the town of Larak, where the folk improve their lot by supplyin’ any ship that stops, whether a friend or an enemy. Since we’ve still a long way to go, I propose to put in there for fresh food and water. ‘Tis a small fishin’ village, so we’ll be able to buy fish and early season vegetables. Afterward, we’ll be well supplied for the remainder of the voyage and we won’t have to stop again, provided we have a fair wind to speed us westward.

  “The Matarami despise any form of government, so they won’t try to hold us, or report us to the authorities,” the captain continued. “Just as long as we don’t raid the village for our supplies the folk at Larak won’t care where we come from, or w
here we’re goin’.”

  “I will rely on your judgment,” Garit said, knowing full well that the shrewd captain would expect him to produce whatever coins were required to pay for the food and water they needed.

  To call Larak small was an exaggeration. The town, which lay at the mouth of a quiet river that was only slightly wider than the other streams they’d passed, consisted of a dozen houses clustered together. A single, deeply rutted road cut through the town to end at riverside, where a stone wharf jutted into the water, making a sheltered harbor. Apparently the anchorage had been dredged, for the single boat that lay beside the wharf was large enough to require deep water.

  And that, Garit realized, meant The Kantian Queen wouldn’t have to drop anchor away from shore and ferry supplies to the ship in the two rowboats that were lashed to the deck.

  “The fishin’ craft are all out to sea,” Captain Pyrsig said as they drew closer, “So we can tie up at any spot we choose. The townspeople won’t want us to stay long. They’ll need the space along the wharf for the fishermen when they return, most likely at evenin’. In the meantime, I doubt if anyone will object to our presence once we inform them that we’re willin’ to pay for what we take away with us.”

  At this point in the conversation Calia joined them.

  “Will we be able to go ashore?” she asked the captain. “I have a feeling that Lady Elgida would enjoy a walk on solid land and I do confess, so would I.”

  “We should be here until midday, dependin’ on the tide,” Captain Pyrsig answered. “I see no harm in ladies walkin’ about with an escort. But Garit, keep yer men-at-arms aboard. Lads who’ve been at sea for some days usually go lookin’ for female companionship as soon as they set one foot on land. We don’t want any trouble, nor anyone wounded or killed whose sword arm could be useful later, in Kantia.”

  “Do you expect trouble in Kantia?” Calia asked him, surprised by the remark.

  “Ah, well, ye never know,” was all the captain would say. He left them then, to join the helmsman in the stern.

  As The Kantian Queen was maneuvered skillfully alongside the wharf, Calia searched the single street of Larak for signs of activity, but all seemed quiet. Apparently, most of the men of working age were at sea, fishing. A few little boys and old men loitered on the wharf. They appeared curious about the ship, but not suspicious of strangers. Several women clustered in the road to watch the ship and waved when a sailor shouted a greeting to those ashore.

  Captain Pyrsig called down to one of the men on the wharf, speaking a language that Calia could not understand. At a word from the man, two of the boys set off into town at a run.

  “We’re welcome to tie up until midafternoon, so long as we pay for the dockin’ space,” Captain Pyrsig reported to Garit. “The man I spoke to has sent those lads to find carts to carry our water barrels to the village cistern for refillin’.”

  While the sailors made the ship fast, uncurling the ropes from the deck and securing them to stone pillars built into the wharf for that purpose, Calia continued her examination of the village and its surroundings. Never having been away from northern Sapaudia, she was fascinated by everything she saw. The smell of the sea, and of fish, permeated the scene. Gulls wheeled and cried overhead, possibly mistaking The Kantian Queen for a fishing boat and expecting a meal of castoff fish remains.

  Looking ashore, she noticed that the road headed straight out of town and directly toward the distant hills. Seeing how deeply rutted it was, she knew the road had been built to carry carts full of fish inland. The same road must have served as a route to bring to the village the stones used to build the houses, the seawall, and the wharf, for the local landscape seemed to consist entirely of mud, grass, and sand.

  “The buildings look sturdy enough,” she said to Garit, who had moved to stand next to her after Captain Pyrsig left them.

  “They would have to be,” he said, “if they are to withstand the fierce winter storms that must sweep in from the sea.” He turned at the sound of quick footsteps that heralded the arrival of Lady Elgida, with Mairne at her side.

  “How soon may we venture ashore?” Lady Elgida demanded of Garit.

  “In just a moment or two,” he said, pointing. “See, some of the sailors are setting up the gangplank now.”

  “And others are removing the hatch cover,” Calia added. “They aren’t planning to waste any time in loading our new supplies.”

  “Who can blame them?” Lady Elgida regarded the village with a scowl. “What a desolate place. How cold and damp it must be in winter. I do believe Larak must be almost as unpleasant as Kantia.”

  “The houses look snug enough to be comfortable,” Calia said, thinking she’d like to live within sound of the sea, in a quiet little cottage with a thatched roof like those in Larak. In such an isolated place she’d never have to think about Mallory, or worry about his latest schemes. And perhaps, knowing she’d never see or hear of Garit again, she could forget how she longed to be in his arms. At that thought she turned away to look across the water, to the low-lying sand and grasses on the opposite side of the river’s mouth.

  “Grandmother,” Garit’s voice intruded on Calia’s wistful fantasy, “will you take my arm and walk a short distance with me? I’d like to speak with you in private.”

  “Very well, but do not attempt to dissuade me from stopping at Kinath.”

  “Dearest Grandmother, I would never try to prevent you from doing anything you please.” Garit’s honey-sweet response elicited a snort of disbelief from Lady Elgida.

  “Calia, Mairne, you may go ashore, but do not walk far and behave yourselves. Remember whose companions you are,” Lady Elgida instructed.

  Garit handed her down the narrow gangplank and onto the stone wharf. They began walking slowly toward the town.

  “I don’t see what mischief we could possibly find in a place like this,” Mairne said, her sparkling eyes belying her scornful words. “But if we try very hard, I’m sure we can think of some way to shock Lady Elgida, so she’ll have the pleasure of scolding us when we return.”

  The usually serious Anders surprised Calia with a loud guffaw.

  “Well, you are right about one thing,” he said to Mairne. “Larak is so small that it looks safe enough for even the prettiest girl to walk about unescorted.”

  “There must be a brewer’s house,” Durand said, scanning the scene. “Every village has one. Calia, will you allow me to help you down the gangplank?”

  “Thank you, my lord.” She would far rather have explored the town with Garit, but Calia knew how unwise that would be. Just as every village boasted a brewer’s house, every human habitation, however small, held quiet corners, sheltered spots where a man and woman could find a degree of privacy. Judging by his recent behavior toward her, privacy with Garit would be perilous to both of them. Durand, who was charming and polite, yet not the least bit unsettling to her heart, was sure to try to pry information out of her, but that would be far less dangerous to her composure than Garit’s embrace. Telling herself that except for her true identity, which she would never reveal, she knew nothing that could possibly be of use to any spy, Calia smiled and agreed to walk with Durand.

  Eager to explore the village, she set out boldly, smiling at the few women and children she and her companions met, speaking a friendly greeting to each and trying to repeat what the villagers said in response. When Anders made exaggerated gestures to indicate pouring and drinking a beverage, Calia laughed along with the unknown women.

  Throughout the walk and during their stop at the local brewer’s house for refreshment she was intrigued to see how closely Durand watched the townspeople. She noticed the looks he exchanged with the proprietor of the business. Later, as they left the brewer’s house, Anders and Mairne moved ahead with Mairne clinging to the squire’s arm. Calia hung back, willing to allow them to go on alone, since she could see the road all the way to the ship, so even Lady Elgida could not accuse her of neglecting to watch over
Mairne.

  Durand lingered to pay for the beer and bread they’d consumed and when Calia turned back to him, she overheard Durand’s quiet conversation with the proprietor.

  “Has it come yet?” Durand asked, speaking in Sapaudian.

  “Not yet, and no message, either,” the proprietor responded in Sapaudian. “‘Tis a long journey, and a dangerous one, so we should be patient. We’ve a small ship waiting. Once the object reaches Larak, there’ll be no delay.”

  “Good.” Durand dropped a surprising number of coins into the man’s hands. “This should pay the ship’s crew.”

  “Thank ye, sir. Though I don’t do it for the money, ye understand. Cursed Dominion!” The man spat on the floor. “One of their raiding parties took my little boy and my wife some years ago. Never seen either of them since. I’ll do ought I can to hurt the Dominion.”

  Durand gave the man a sympathetic pat on the shoulder and turned to Calia. He didn’t appear at all surprised to see her standing so close.

  “I understand,” she said when they were walking along the road, “that what I just overheard is part of your work for King Henryk and that the proprietor is a confidant of yours. I promise, I will not repeat a single word to anyone.”

  “I knew I could trust you,” he said, “or I would not have been so careless. In fact, I may need you to help me later.”

  “So long as you don’t expect me to do anything that could harm Lady Elgida or any of her grandsons, I will be glad to do whatever I can.”

  Durand grinned with his eyebrows raised, but he said nothing about her emphasis on Lady Elgida’s grandsons.

  At the landward end of the wharf Lady Elgida paused long enough to give Garit a hard look before she continued up the village road, following at a distance from the four other passengers of The Kantian Queen, who had passed them and were walking at a faster pace.

  “They cannot hear us now,” she said, “and from the peculiar sounds Captain Pyrsig made when speaking to that old man, the villagers won’t understand the Sapaudian language if they do overhear us. We cannot be more private than this. What is it, Garit? What do you want to say to me?”