by Guy Antibes
“Just a little more than Lenis’s father. I don’t think there is anyone in Kizru who has the princess’s best interests in mind.”
“Even you?” Tembul narrowed his eyes at Trak.
“Even me, although for some strange reason, I think she trusts me.”
“Not so strange. You are a hero, a unique hero, in her eyes.”
Trak didn’t want to think romantically about any woman. He still hurt from what Marom had done. “That is nothing I’ve encouraged.”
“Encouraged or not, she’s got her eye on you. Better Trak Bluntwithe than myself.”
Trak smiled. “You’ve got the lovely Hana.”
“My wife might dispute that,” Tembul said.
Trak sputtered. “Your wife?”
Tembul laughed. “I’m a good one at keeping secrets,” he said. “Wife, but my two children are grown.”
“Does she live in Kizru?”
“On the outskirts. It has been a gratifying reunion. Tears on both sides and all of that.”
Trak took his treasure out of a kitchen cupboard. “Here.” He put three jewels into the Toryan’s hand. “Make your return a bit more gratifying. I can’t think of anyone who deserves it more.”
Tembul stared at the jewels. “I can’t take this.”
“You already have.” Trak closed the man’s fingers around the gems. “She’ll think better of me if you give her one in some kind of setting. On a necklace, maybe?”
“If it wasn’t from you—”
“But it is. I have plenty more.”
Tembul opened his hand and moved the gems around in his palm with a finger. “Has the princess asked for one of these?”
Trak shook his head. “No, and I don’t intend on giving her one. These are meant to be earned, or used to help people. The princess hasn’t helped anyone yet, and all she has earned has been the enmity of those around her.”
“I will agree to that, well enough.” Tembul tucked the jewels away in a pocket and slapped his hands on his knees. “Now, down to business. The king wants you to move into the palace.”
“But I like this house. My fathers lived here.”
“You can flit wherever you want. You know that, and I know that, but King Basiul doesn’t think you can do such a thing. He thinks you are using the Vashtan teleportation pose struck very quickly.”
Trak poured another cup of tea for both of them. “Then let’s have him keep thinking that,” Trak said. “I can move to the palace, as long as I can do some cooking for myself. Toryan food is…”
Tembul waved Trak’s comment away. “After our world tour, I will have to agree, just a little bit. Just don’t tell my wife should you ever meet her.”
“So when do I have to leave?”
“We go now. Grab what you want to bring with you, and I’ll be back to take anything you’ve left behind. We can teleport. That way we will disappoint any ambush that Lord Namiul has arranged.”
~~~
Chapter Seven
~
The sun felt warm and welcome on Valanna’s face while she walked with Panna down into the market closest to the palace. Two guards preceded them, with four guards following closely behind, spoiling some of the newly-won freedom that finally allowed her to leave the Royal Tower.
King Marom had kept his distance, but Herla, the Queen, had continued to visit Valanna in her rooms. She had paired Valanna up with Panna, wife Number Four, in this trip to the market. Valanna fingered the list that Herla had given her.
Panna didn’t know the market or the shops that surrounded it as well as Valanna did. The guards ended up following Valanna’s directions to a women’s clothing shop. Two of the guards slipped inside to inspect the business before permitting the two women to enter.
“Asem, Kulara,” Valanna said to her friends. A tall young girl fingering an embroidered silk handkerchief stood next to her friends.
“Valanna, it has been some time,” Asem said. “This must be your first trip outside of the palace.”
“Outside of the Royal Tower,” she corrected. “It is so good to see you, and who is this?” Valanna looked at the girl.
“Let me present you to my daughter,” Asem said. “Valanna, Fifth Wife to King Marom and Princess Panna, Fourth Wife, may I introduce you to Galara, my youngest.”
The teenaged girl dipped into a controlled curtsey and bowed her head to both women. “Your Highnesses.”
Valanna had already suspected the girl to be Asem’s daughter. “You are quite pretty. Rise and let me look upon your face,” she said. From her perspective, Galara took after her father, with sharper features and narrower eyes than Rumanna, her late mother.
“Now that you have been let out, perhaps you can share a meal with us in our tower,” Kulara said to Valanna.
Herla had arranged the meeting in order to have witnesses to the invitation, since King Marom continued to intercept all communications with Valanna after Kulara’s one visit.
“I would be happy to.”
“Tonight?” Asem said.
Panna touched Valanna on the arm. “Tonight is our dinner with the King.
“Then tomorrow night. I will send Captain Mizor for you,” Asem said, waving off his first suggestion. “If you don’t mind, Galara has a few purchases yet to make, and then we must be on our way.”
Valanna and Panna nodded at the same time, making Valanna stifle a giggle as they waited for Asem to leave. The pair of them looked through the goods in the shop. Valanna bought some silk underclothes for Herla and herself and a handkerchief similar to the one Galara bought, but in a different color.
On their way back to the palace, with guards carrying their purchases, Panna shook her head. “Such audacity. Stopping royalty in the marketplace!”
Valanna clucked her tongue. “I seem to recall that Asem bears the title of Prince. Doesn’t that make him royalty, along with his being a cousin to King Marom?”
Panna just grunted and walked on ahead of Valanna, who couldn’t help but be amused. Once inside the palace gates, Panna stalked off to the Royal Tower, leaving Valanna with three of the guards.
“I would like more of a walk. Could we go to the gardens?” Valanna asked the senior guard, who only inclined his head in assent.
She had no desire to return to the cloistered existence that could be re-imposed at any time. Valanna took her time strolling to the gardens and sat on a bench surrounded by a low wall covered with jasmine. She breathed in the scent of the flowers and closed her eyes, trying to picture herself in the garden of the Dalistro mansion in Espozia. Those were better times for her, just before the revolt.
She smiled and pointed her face towards the sun, eyes still shut, taking in the warmth as she had earlier in the day. With all her heart she wished Trak would walk up to her. Valanna heard footsteps and opened her eyes, half expecting to see him.
The king was ten paces away walking towards her, and then sat next to her on the bench. He took her hand in his. Valanna struggled not to shrink away at his touch.
“Did you enjoy your shopping trip?”
Did nothing escape the king? Valanna nodded. “Thank you for removing my restriction to the tower, Your Majesty.”
“It was against my better judgement, but Asem wanted to see you again. I imagine you are invited to a dinner in their tower?”
Had Herla’s intervention been at the request of King Marom? The king’s words took all of the enjoyment of the day from her, and the garden suddenly felt suffocating. After a bow of her head, Valanna said, “Tomorrow night, if Your Majesty permits.” She feared that the king would make her cancel.
“He has things to discuss with you, so you might as well do some thinking about the next phase for Pestle.” He squeezed her hand until it hurt. “Just remember that you are mine, not the Pestlan’s, and not Asem’s.”
“I am well aware of that, Your Majesty.”
Marom rose from the seat and walked quickly away, followed by two guards. Valanna waited for the king
to move further away before she rose. She looked around the walls of the garden and noticed guards with crossbows aimed at her. The king took her magic seriously, but Valanna cared too much for Asem and Kulara, who would likely be quickly killed if she attacked her husband. She shrugged and made her way towards her rooms.
~
Valanna arrived to dinner, surprised to see Asem’s four children seated around the table. Asem sat at the head with his two daughters on one side and two sons on the other. There were two empty chairs next to Kulara, who sat at the foot. Kulara pointed to one of them and one of Asem’s sons helped her get seated.
“You’ve met Galara.” The young woman smiled and gave Valanna a wave from next to Asem. She looked her fourteen years. “My other daughter is Henna. She is seventeen. Rensom is nineteen and Pezem is twenty-two. This is the first time in four years that we have eaten together.” Valanna nodded to each person as they were introduced. Asem had reason to be proud of his children.
Valanna’s face heated up when she realized that she had been one of those responsible for the death of their mother. A family reunion was not something she expected at this dinner.
Thankfully, Asem drove the conversation and prompted each of the children to talk about what they were doing and their prospects. The two sons had already taken residence in other Ferezan villages, but hadn’t married. Asem talked to them about the revolt, and the boys surprised Valanna with their observations. She had originally thought them young, but then realized that she was the same age as Pezem, and Trak was born sometime between the two young men.
When looking at Asem’s sons, she realized how experienced Trak had seemed, despite his age. He had already personally put down revolutions in three countries. Valanna turned her attention back to the girls. Henna had just become betrothed to the son of the chief of a different tribe. She assumed that the Ferezan married for political reasons like any other ruling class.
Dinner was more authentically prepared to match the Arid Lands, and when they were done, Asem dismissed his children. Kulara had been mostly silent during dinner. At least Valanna had made a comment here and there, complimenting the young people when she could.
Asem made a show of checking all of the peepholes in his tower’s dining level. “We can speak freely now,” he said as he took a seat. “I am sorry for not warning you about my children, but this is the last time we will be able to eat together as a family. Henna and Pezem have obligations in the Arid Lands and will travel west together tomorrow morning.”
“I offered to fly them, but they declined,” Kulara said. Valanna noticed the pain in Kulara’s voice. The reunion must not have been as pleasant for her friend.
“Under other circumstances, I would have asked to teleport them, but I don’t think that travel option is open to me at present,” Valanna said. “I visited with my husband yesterday afternoon—”
“He told me. King Marom has had some additional dispatches from Pestledown today. We won’t be spending much more time in Balbaam either.”
“Does ‘we’ mean Kulara and you or Kulara, you, and me?” Valanna felt a surge of hope.
“All three. I’m sure you won’t mind. Galara and Rensom will stay behind as hostages,” Asem said.
They were all silent for a bit.
“I am on official business this time?” Valanna said.
“A Princess of Warish. At least you’ll start out that way once we are in Pestledown, unless the conditions have deteriorated even further than what they are like now. If all goes as planned, we will also reveal you as a Princess of Pestle.”
“Not while King Harl is alive,” Valanna said.
“That brings us to part of our plan. Your recent visit to Pestle actually brought an end to the Long War. With the Yellow Fox Vashtans in the ascendant as advisors to King Harl, Pestle has become even less stable. They have ruined Marom’s initial plans to easily replace Harl. The Pestlan King will not give up his throne voluntarily.”
Valanna leaned back in her chair and thought for a moment. “Nothing has changed in Pestledown then? King Harl continues to raise taxes and alienate his people?”
Asem nodded. “Most of the Blue Swan Vashtans in Warish have already headed to Pestledown at my request. They will help us take down the Yellow Fox Vashtans that are trying to pull Harl’s strings like a puppeteer.”
“Going back is fraught with danger,” Valanna said, “but I prefer danger to the living death I experience every day in the Royal Tower, especially now that I know I can’t trust the Queen. I thought she might be a friend.”
Kulara clucked her tongue. “I wouldn’t say that. Among that den of vipers, she is as close to a friend as you have.”
Valanna nodded. Panna and Bashura had already shown her their teeth in the drawing room gatherings and at communal dinners. She couldn’t wait to leave, and now that she knew teleportation, Yellow Fox Vashtans could not possibly catch her if she had to flee. But if Asem and Kulara accompanied her, Valanna would be slowed taking them along. However, leaving Balbaam was worth any risk.
“Do we have a strategy?”
“We will have to locate the five Vashtan allies that have already left for Pestledown. Once they join us, we will be able to plan having adequate magical capacity, since the rebels have none at all. After our arrival in Pestledown, we will meet with the underground spy network, and then formulate practical plans. Marom is unwilling to commit any troops. At the Pestlan end, this will be a simple coup,” Kulara said.
“It’s not simple. No revolts are simple. Trak told me so, and I believe him after having been through two myself. Anything can go wrong, and since he has fought on both sides, Trak should know,” Valanna said.
Asem stroked his beard. “It is true, anything can go wrong. Marom is more willing to risk the life of his fifth wife than the chin hair of any Ferezan warrior.”
Valanna could hear the disapproval in Asem’s voice. “How does he plan on holding onto Pestle?”
Asem narrowed his eyes and shook his head. Despite his checking for listeners, Asem was unwilling to tell Valanna what he thought.
“That is something we will negotiate with the rebels. There will have to be an alliance of sorts. Of course, my loyalty is certain,” Asem said, “insured by my children’s lives. Your loyalty to Warish was dramatically demonstrated by your actions in Pestle and in the Arid Land. It continues, especially now that you are Marom’s Princess.”
Valanna didn’t believe what Asem said. Valanna had had enough of King Marom and Balbaam. She wouldn’t think twice about leaving Warish for good after the king’s treatment of her, but in truth, she valued Asem enough not to want to sacrifice his children. If Trak were with them, he could teleport them all out of Asem’s tower with ease. Unfortunately, Trak was far, far away.
~~~
Chapter Eight
~
The ale had improved in the palace. Able’s brewing influence might be felt by generations of Toryans. Tembul eagerly agreed after he had drained his own mug. The familiar taste of the brew made Trak a bit homesick for the Blunted Sword, but Neel had said they all would head for Pestledown.
The Toryans didn’t care about Neel or Able now that they had escaped their grasp. Namiul had ranted and raved in Trak’s audience with King Basiul just after Trak had arrived in the palace. One week later, the complaining had stopped, only to be replaced by looks of pure hatred whenever Trak ran into Namiul with Lenis playing as his father’s shadow.
Trak picked at the remaining food of his midday meal when his conversation with Tembul was interrupted by a knock on the door.
Tembul opened the door to a female courtier of some sort. “Princess Pullia seeks an audience with Trak Bluntwithe in her quarters. I will escort you when ready and will wait at the door,” the woman said, taking a step back.
After closing the door, Tembul whistled. “A private audience? I wonder what the princess wants with you?”
“My good looks?” Trak said, smiling wistfully and thinking
of Valanna. “I seem to attract princesses.”
Tembul only grunted. “Look your best. Who knows what kind of mood the woman will be in?” He shook his head. “Perhaps you might find out what King Basiul has in mind for her.”
“Is she essentially a prisoner, like me?” Trak asked.
“You, a prisoner?” Tembul said, and then put his hand to his chin. “I suppose in a sense you are, as long as you stay in Kizru. Do you feel like one?”
Trak gave Tembul a dirty look. “Perhaps both of us are under benign retention,” Trak said.
“Your Toryan has improved,” Tembul said, smiling. “Benign retention. I can agree with that. Let’s find something a bit more suitable to wear.”
Trak ended up putting on a more formal jacket than the one he currently wore and ran a brush through his hair. Although he didn’t need to, Trak buckled on his Benninese sword.
He opened the door. “I am ready,” he said, and straightening out the jacket, he followed the woman, who didn’t say another word.
The woman led Trak to a part of the palace where he had never been before. She walked up two flights of stairs and knocked on a set of double doors.
“Trak Bluntwithe may come in alone,” Lia said from behind the door.
The princess had already walked towards open glass doors leading to a balcony. “Lock the door,” she said to Trak, as she stepped out onto the balcony and leaned forward with her hands on the edge of the sandy stone railing.
After making sure the door was locked, Trak looked around for likely listening positions in the room and joined the princess.
“You requested my presence, Princess?”
“Call me Lia. We are alone, are we not?” she said lifting her chin.
Trak colored. “I thought that was just during our journey to Torya.”
Lia made a face that spoiled her beauty. “You have my permission to use it still. Is it safe to talk?”
“Is there any reason to think it is unsafe?” Trak said.
“We have much to discuss.”
Trak didn’t think so, but he spelled a sound shield around them. The sounds that had surrounded them suddenly became muffled.