by Guy Antibes
She then started to examine every inch of all the rooms for secret panels or holes in the walls that would enable someone to watch her in secret. Valanna had to stop her investigations when the servants began to troop in carrying her possessions, which weren’t many once her clothes had been put away.
The servants stood in a row with their heads bowed and their hands clasped at their waists, until Valanna realized that they were waiting for something. Did one pay palace servants? She thought not.
“You are dismissed. Thank you for your work,” she said, hoping that would work, and it did. They all gave her a deeper bow and then left.
Valanna instantly missed Kulara. She needed a friendly person to talk to and answer questions. She had spent most of her life in Balbaam and had no idea what constituted proper behavior in the palace proper, other than what she had learned in Santasia, a country with no king.
She continued with her inspection for hidden listening holes, unfortunately finding a few, when someone knocked on the door.
“Yes?”
Two women dressed in the style of the Arid Lands rushed into the room and closed the door.
“Sit,” one of them said.
Valanna, surprised by the abruptness of their arrival and behavior, did as instructed.
The pair took other chairs in the sitting room. “I am Bashura and this is Panna.”
“I am Four,” Panna said. “Bashura is Two and you, Valanna, are Five.”
Valanna’s heart sank to realize that these were sisters-in-law, if that was the proper term for King Marom’s other wives. Kulara had always referred to herself as the second wife. Valanna was the fifth wife, and the feeling of despair almost brought tears to her eyes again.
Bashura smiled warmly, an unexpected thing considering how Kulara thought of Rumanna, Asem’s first wife. “I am sure you have many questions, and we will do our best to answer them. First of all, let us give you some perspective on your new role.”
Valanna had wanted to ask these women about Marom’s nocturnal habits, but found herself too frightened to mention it. “I am sorry, but I have no idea how to serve you refreshments,” Valanna said furiously thinking about what would constitute proper deportment in front of these two women.
Panna rose and pulled on a thick tapestry ribbon hanging by the fireplace. Valanna heard a discreet knock at her door. “If you want anything, you summon a servant by pulling this. There should be another by your bed and one by the bathtub.”
“Thank you,” Valanna said, realizing that a servant sat by the door to her rooms at her beck and call in Asem’s tower, and she hadn’t even thought to put her head out of her rooms to find out. She felt embarrassed by her lack of knowledge. She would have to locate the other two calling ribbons when the ladies left. “I am a bit overwhelmed by events.” She looked down at her clasped hands, trying to keep composed.
“Look up, dear,” Bashura said. “We are not here to bite you, although Consula and Queen Herla would not hesitate.”
“Consula?”
“Three. She is not a very happy resident. Marom had impregnated her just before his…” Bashura looked at Panna with a mournful face, “…malady. She strutted around as if she were the King, before she lost the child.” Bashura shook her head.
“What was the ‘malady’ that—” Valanna said
“Fever. Our husband nearly died about twelve years ago. His patriarchal capabilities never recovered, you might say. Panna and you will probably never have much to do with him except when he dines with all of us once each week.”
“I’m sorry that you had no children,” Valanna said, knowing how important progeny was to the Ferezan.
“My fault, I’m afraid. It appears that our dear Marom is fated not to have heirs.”
No wonder rivals would seek Marom’s life. What kind of turmoil would his death put Warish in? Did the Ferezan recognize queens? Perhaps Trak had done her country a greater service than he knew by preserving Marom’s life. Certainly, Marom didn’t see things that way, as evidenced by her current predicament and the way Trak was insulted in the Throne Room. Asem had forced Marom’s reward onto Trak, and she felt good about that.
“Enough,” Valanna said. “What is my role?”
“Role? You are Number Five. There is no role.”
These women didn’t know about her or her history. She hesitated saying anything to them. The wives’ relationships were really unknown and unpredictable. Valanna hoped that Kulara could shed some light on the situation. For now, Valanna couldn’t trust the women in front of her.
“Very well. I need to learn what my days will be like and what I must do. Can we start with getting up and go through what I should be doing each day?”
~
Bashura told Valanna that she was not to leave her rooms unescorted for any reason until told otherwise. Panna had taken her to the Tower’s library a few times, where Valanna had indicated books of interest that were later delivered to her rooms.
All of her other meals were taken in her rooms alone, with a lady in waiting looking on. The attendant refused to eat with her when Valanna asked. Her rooms in the Royal Tower had turned into a silken prison.
Her only exposures to King Marom were at the communal dinners where the King sat with the Queen on his right and Bashura on his left. The others were arranged by number, which suited Valanna just fine. The very sight of Marom still made her angry, but by acting inconspicuous, she hoped she could avoid talking to the man.
Panna often kept their conversation going as the other three wives talked about minor affairs of which Valanna had no interest. The world at large wasn’t discussed in the two weekly dinners that she attended. The doings of Ferezan wandering villages and the other five Arid Lands clans didn’t appeal. Asem had generally kept her away from the Throne Room before, so Valanna had no frame of reference to the court gossip that Bashura or Panna would bring up in their visits to her personal quarters every few days.
Valanna contemplated pulling out Trak’s portfolio and learning more power words until the Queen swept into her rooms and sat down on the largest chair in the sitting room. The woman had put on more weight than the other wives, and the voluminous silk layers that she wore only increased the appearance of size.
Two guards checked out Valanna’s rooms. It looked like they were checking for listeners. They nodded to the First Wife and then left.
The Queen’s small eyes and small mouth in a large face squinted and pouted and worked to make the Queen look even more disagreeable. A maid had woven matching silk ribbons in the Queen’s graying hair that made her look, in Valanna’s eyes, a ludicrous parody of a monarch.
The woman arranged her skirts, ignoring Valanna until she leaned over and glared at her. “Who is this Trak Bluntwithe?”
And greetings to you, thought Valanna. “He is a Pestlan magician that I met some time ago. Do you have any specific questions, Queen?” Bashura had let Valanna know that Herla always insisted on being addressed as ‘Queen’.
Herla pursed her lips and leaned back. Her tiny eyes whirred this way and that in thought. Valanna suspected that the Queen might not be a very bright person.
“Is he as powerful as my husband says he is?”
Now that was interesting. She referred to Marom as her husband, not ‘our’ husband like the other wives. Valanna resisted shaking her head. “I don’t know what King Marom has said, but Trak may be the most powerful magician in the world. He is certainly unmatched in Cokasan, Pestle, or Bennin.”
“That leaves Vashta.” The Queen grunted. At least she had a fundamental grasp on geography. “He knows how to perform magic without posing?”
How could anyone miss that while Trak single-handedly saved Marom’s life and kingdom? “He learned how to do that in Bennin. If he poses, I cannot detect it. Generally, magic always carries limitations,” Valanna said.
“Oh, that’s right. You were a magician, weren’t you?” Herla said dismissively.
“I still a
m. Do you want a demonstration?” Valanna fought to maintain her composure. This woman adeptly put Valanna’s emotions on edge.
The Queen’s eyes widened, and she put up her hands to stop Valanna from standing. “No, no! I believe you.”
Herla’s imperiousness fractured. “Marom said he was dangerous. Is he?”
“Not to me,” Valanna said. “I’m sure that Trak didn’t enjoy King Marom’s trick declaring me the fifth wife, after the two of us had planned to visit Torya together. The rumors you might have heard about the way he fought that night when he saved Warish were accurate.”
The Queen looked a little frightened. “Do you think he will return with an army?”
Valanna narrowed her eyes. “He wouldn’t need an army. If Trak wanted your husband dead, he could have killed him on the spot, but Trak is an honorable person, and King Marom doesn’t appreciate that.” Valanna realized that she did, and that only made the pain of what Marom did more intense.
“Hmm. We should talk more, you and I,” the Queen said. “You may call me Herla when we are alone together, but not when the others are around. Am I understood?”
The softened approach surprised Valanna. “You are.”
Herla stood with Valanna following. She gave Valanna a little bow before opening the door, leaving her stunned by the conversation. The woman at the end of the conversation seemed quite different from the one who had entered Valanna’s rooms.
~
Bashura, the second wife, followed the servants into her rooms for the midday meal a few days later.
“I understand the Queen abased herself to visit you,” she said sarcastically.
Valanna nodded. “She did.”
“Old windbag,” Bashura said, although Valanna estimated that the two older wives weren’t even ten years apart in age. “I’ll bet she just sauntered in and told you what was what.” Valanna could hear the venom in her sister-in-law’s voice. “What did she want?”
“I assure you it was a very short conversation about Trak Bluntwithe.”
Bashura narrowed her eyes. “Who?”
“The Pestlan who saved us from the traitors.”
“Your boyfriend?” Bashura said.
Valanna shook her head. “No more. I am Number Five. I suppose she wanted to know how powerful Trak is.”
“Is he?”
“Powerful?” Valanna nodded. “There is no magician with more power that I have ever seen, and I have seen quite a few.”
Bashura smiled. “That is right. You actually fought in the Santasian Civil War against their Magician’s Guild.”
The wives knew more than she gave them credit for. Valanna would have to adjust her preconception of their awareness of the outside world. “There were magicians on both sides, including me.”
Bashura’s eyebrows went up. “Oh, I forgot. You are an adept.”
“I am,” Valanna said, “and now I’m here.” The bitterness of her situation caught in her throat.
“Can you disappear like they all said your boyfriend did?” Bashura said. Valanna didn’t like the undercurrent in her voice.
“I don’t know of anyone else who can do that on a simple whim.” Valanna told the truth, since Trak had mastered poseless magic. Valanna didn’t admit that she could teleport, and she doubted that Kulara or Asem would give that information out to anyone. She could leave the Palace in a moment, never to return, but then Kulara and Asem would likely pay for her disappearance.
“Do you hate our husband for what he did?” Bashura said. Valanna thought that the woman had just asked the question that she came for.
“Hate? How can I hate my sovereign? I live to serve, no matter what. I am his, as a subject—” Her voice broke. The sorrow that lived so deeply in her heart made her eyes water. She took a deep breath. “—and as his wife.”
Bashura patted Valanna’s hand. “There, there. I’ve been exactly where you are. You will learn to thrive under your marriage. I did.”
“Will I ever get to leave this tower?” Valanna said, wanting to change the topic of their conversation away from loyalty.
“Oh, that? In a few more weeks, I imagine. None of us are really free, but we do get to go out to the markets and shops in the city from time to time. I hear rumors that Marom has some special project intended for you, but I wouldn’t have any idea what that would be. We think that you are here just to spite the Pestlan boy.”
Valanna didn’t believe that. Marom stole her loyalty by marrying her because he intended to use her, and sitting around the Royal Tower all day did nothing to promote the kingdom.
“So you suspect that I am a hostage?”
Bashura laughed and waved her hand. “Aren’t we all? Marom is stuck with us, and he’ll never have an heir. Enjoy your life while you can. We all escaped death when your boyfriend saved King Marom. If the coup had succeeded, we would have been killed to prevent any pretenders to the Warish throne from being born. Even Herla would die, as old as she is.” Bashura put her hand to her breast. “I shudder.”
The way Bashura talked about their exposure to death didn’t sound right to Valanna. Could there be factions among the wives? Perhaps some supported the coup? Valanna’s initial impression of Bashura might have been correct. At that moment, she felt like she bobbed helplessly on the surface of the ocean surrounded by sharks, as Trak once was; however, no magic spell could solve her problem. She wondered if she could ever escape the dismal existence that these ladies endured.
“May I receive visitors from outside the tower? Kulara Ferez, Prince Asem’s wife is a friend.”
Bashura frowned for the merest moment, but then brightened. “Of course you can. You may send an invitation through one of your servants, I suppose.”
~
Days later, Valanna arrived at the dining room for a communal dinner a bit early and found Herla pouring herself a goblet of wine before anyone else had arrived.
“I’ve been sending messages to Kulara, Asem Ferez’s wife, inviting her to visit, but I haven’t received a reply. Is there any reason that I can’t have visitors?”
“A visit from the wife of a Prince of Warish?” she shook her head. Herla looked around the room and spoke in a lower voice. “How have you been communicating?”
“Bashura said that all I needed to do was send a note through one of my servants.”
Herla narrowed her eyes. “She’s up to her tricks, again. When would you like Kulara to visit?”
“Tomorrow, to share a midday meal.”
Herla nodded her head. “Leave it to me.” Two more wives arrived and Herla said in a louder voice, “Don’t bother me with your complaints.” She winked before she abruptly turned away from Valanna.
Panna came over to Valanna and glared at Herla’s back. “She won’t help you, whatever you asked her about,” she said.
“I suppose you are right, I didn’t know what I was thinking.” Valanna sighed and wondered if Herla had just placated her, just like a mother might promise something to her child, never to fulfill the request.
~
Kulara showed up at Valanna’s door at noon the next day. Valanna now had a better idea of where she stood with the Queen.
“Ah, I’ve only been in the Royal Tower when I once had an audience with the Queen. We never lived in the same wandering village in the Arid Lands, so I never had the opportunity to meet her before.”
“I see her often enough,” Valanna said grabbing Kulara’s hands. What a relief she felt to speak with a friend. “How did you know to come?”
“A guard left a message with Captain Mizor. It wasn’t from you, but—”
“At my request,” Valanna said. She walked around her room and did her own checking for listeners. Valanna had already tried to plug up as many holes in the walls as she could, but she didn’t know how effective her efforts were. She sighed and took Kulara to her couch so they could sit next to each other. She turned to her and took her friend’s hands again. “I’ve been so lonely. You don’t know what
it’s like—”
“I do. Asem only had two wives. Other Princes have had more, and I’m well aware of the way such things go. It is a close existence, isn’t it?”
Valanna felt her eyes well up and nodded. “It is suffocating, and I so needed to see your face and talk to someone I don’t have to worry about.”
“Worry?” Kulara smiled slyly. “It’s good to see you, too. All I really need is Asem, but I do like to get out and use the flyer from time to time. The King has even let us both go on short expeditions, you know, while Marom has been confirming his power, now that the executions have finally ended.”
“Any word from Torya?” Valanna said. This was the first time she had heard of executions, but she wouldn’t ask Kulara about them. The wives had never once mentioned them in her presence.
Kulara shrugged. “All I know is that Trak’s group took a ship bound for Tachium.”
“But he is under a Colcanan order of execution!”
~~~
Chapter Four
~
Trak woke up to the barking of dogs and the sounds of men and horses. He sat straight up in bed when heavy fists pounded on his door. He pulled on his trousers and slipped on his boots, as the door exploded into splinters.
A magician still maintained her pose on the other side of the door, bathed in mage light, while guards filed in pointing crossbows at Trak. He sat back down on the bed.
“Trak Bluntwithe, you are a fugitive of Colcanan law.”
“No, I’m not,” Trak said, crossing his legs and leaned back with his arms supporting him from behind, trying to look much more casual that what he currently felt. “I was thrown from the tallest tower of Bitrium. The sentence was carried out. With some luck, I survived.”
Trak could see Lenis leering from behind the woman. He must have alerted the local guard. Trak couldn’t help but shake his head. The guard struggled with someone, and then Tembul came into view and pushed the magician out of his view.