by Martin Ash
The poor woman swayed inconsolably from side to side, her forehead brushing the floor. One hand clutched her middle, the other groped to touch Issul's feet.
"Ohirbe, please. This is not what I want." Issul bent and took her arms. "Get to your feet now. There is no need for this, nothing to apologise for. I am indebted to you, and to Arrin. Please, now, get up. We have to talk."
There was a strange, pitched, staccato sound. Issul turned back to see Moscul, his shoulders hunched, giggling behind his hand. It was the first sign of childlike behaviour he had displayed in her presence. But his amusement at the distress of the woman who had loved him as her own child almost from his birth, raised Issul's apprehension further. Moscul had actually engineered this circumstance, when he should not even have been capable of understanding it. Now he took joy at the result.
Ohirbe, shaking like a leaf, stood with her head bowed before the Queen. "Is-- is it true, Mistress? Are you truly the Queen."
"I am. But--" Issul raised her voice as Ohirbe gave another stricken moan. "-- don't be afraid, Ohirbe. I am proud of you. You have done me a great service and I shall see to it that you are well-rewarded."
"I don't want no reward, Mistr-- High-- oh, oh, I don't even know what to call you!"
"M'am is all that is necessary, Ohirbe. Now please, be calm. We have to talk. Arrin too. Is he here?"
"Milkin' the cow."
"Would you fetch him, please? And what of his cousin, the one who was with Moscul at the poolside. Julion, did you say? Where is he?"
"He lives across the other side of the village."
"I will send for him. Will you fetch Arrin now? And say nothing about me to anyone. Nothing."
Ohirbe nodded and tottered away.
Issul glanced down at little Moscul. He had ceased giggling and was watching her closely again. How could he have known her? Even if he could somehow have gleaned clues which identified her as Queen - and she could not see how that was possible - even if he had done that, there was no person alive who knew that she was his aunt. No one even knew that he had been born to Ressa.
Issul felt chill fingers slip along her spine. She suppressed a shudder and went outside to order two of Sir Bandullo's troopers to find and bring Julion.
Back indoors she found Ohirbe returning with Arrin. The poor man, like his wife, was reduced to knock-kneed blithering and Issul had to calm him with a mixture of sympathy, support and firmness, while Moscul continued to giggle. Eventually Issul succeeded in getting the two of them seated with her at the table, each with a mug of tea made with crushed flowers of camomile. She proceeded to question them, aware that Moscul, silent now, was hanging on to every word.
She learned little that she wasn't already aware of. The old woman who Arrin had encountered originally at the pool, and who Ohirbe had also seen later, had indeed been spotted about the village. Since Ohirbe's return with Fectur's three-strong escort late the previous day, there had been no sign of her, and she had not approached Moscul during Ohirbe's absence.
Julion arrived. He was a gangling fellow, older than Arrin and Ohirbe. He responded to Issul's presence with near-terror, but was eventually able to speak to her.
"I want you to tell me about the day beside the Old Pond, Julion. You saw two people, Ohirbe tells me. An elderly woman and a young man. You then left with the young man."
"That's so, M'am."
"Can you tell me about them?"
"What's to tell? I thought they were together. Turned out not."
"You walked with the young man?"
"Just a ways, to the main path." Julion gave a bashful chuckle. "'e thought she was with me, y'know. Thought we were Moscul's granfolk."
"When you put him right, did he seem surprised? Did he make any comment?"
"Surprised, aye. So was I. We laughed at it, 'cos 'e'd taken 'er to be with me and I'd taken 'er to be with 'im."
"It didn't strike you as odd?"
"By that time, M'am, it was too late to be doin' anythin' about it. We were close to the path and 'e went on 'is way. I weren't goin' to go back to the Old Pond."
Issul frowned. "But if they weren't together, what were they both doing there?"
"'E said 'e'd been lost. 'E came out of the forest and found ‘er with Moscul."
"She was actually with Moscul?"
"So 'e said. Right by the waterside."
Issul put a hand to her forehead. What had happened there? Or almost happened?
Julion said, "If it's any 'elp, Ma'am, 'e did give me 'is name."
"Really?" Issul turned to Ohirbe. "You didn't tell me this."
"I didn't know, Ma'am. Julion, you never told us that before."
"I forgot."
"Then what was his name?" asked Issul.
Julion screwed up his face in deepest concentration. "Sherwal, or Shunwild. Somethin’ like that. I don't remember rightly."
"Think! It's important!" Issul could barely remain seated. "Please, try to remember."
"I 'ardly 'eard it, M'am. It wasn't a common name, 'n at the time it didn't strike me to take that much notice."
Issul gave a sigh. "Well, if it comes to you, be sure to let me know. Is there anything else you can tell me? Anything at all?"
Julion rolled his eyes and shifted nervously on his seat. He had begun almost to relax into the interview, but now seemed suddenly ill at ease again. He hunched forward; his eyes went half to the window, then nervously back. He shook his head. "No. Nothin'"
Issul regarded him for some time. "Well, again, if anything comes to mind, anything at all, tell me immediately, will you? The tiniest detail may be important."
A scuffing sound caused Issul to look around. Moscul was striking his heels back and forth across the floor. He smirked at her. She looked back at Julion, who regarded the tabletop.
Issul questioned the three once again, covering everything she had been over before, hoping that some forgotten detail might reveal itself. But she learned nothing.
Leaving the table, she stepped outside for some air, wanting to take a few moments to gather her thoughts. Sir Bandullo's men still waited beside the path, their mounts tethered nearby. The two anonymous soldiers who had been inside the cottage upon her arrival were beside the fence. The third, who was with them as she stepped out, turned away to gaze towards the village, scratching his cheek with one hand.
Issul stretched and breathed deeply. She looked back at the men, particularly at the third soldier. Something in his manner struck her as odd. She began to walk slowly down the path towards him. As she drew closer he turned away as though to regard the forest. Issul stood and watched him. He was plainly discomfited.
"You," she said.
The man began to walk away as though he had not heard her. His hand was to his cheek again.
"I said, 'You!'" She moved quickly around him. Still he kept his face averted. "Stand still when you are commanded!"
She strode to him and swept his hand aside, stared into his face. Her fury rose. The man was known to her. His name was Gordallith. He was a senior commander in Fectur's secret intelligence corps.
"Come with me!" she ordered, almost choking with rage. She strode back into the cottage to where Ohirbe, Arrin and Julion still sat at the table. Swinging around to point at Gordallith she demanded, "Before I arrived, did this man interrogate you?"
The three sat mute and fearful.
"Answer me!" Issul shouted.
Ohirbe clutched her husband's arm, tears streaming down her cheeks. "'e told us not to say anything, Ma'am!, she wept. ‘'e said. . . the Lordship. . .'e said 'e was personally interested an' wouldn't look kindly if we said anythin' to anyone at all."
Issul's face contorted as her anger boiled. Fectur! How dare you disobey me! How dare you!
What had they said to Gordallith? Anything that they had not told her? Fear of the Spectre was such that, as Ohirbe had just made plain, simple mention of his name was sufficient to bend them whichever way he pleased. Even to the extent of resisting
their Queen.
She wheeled upon Gordallith. "Out!"
In the garden she stood before him. "Did Lord Fectur order you to interrogate these people?"
"In order to secure your safety, Your Highness."
"I expressly forbade him!"
"I was not aware of that." replied Gordallith, unruffled.
"Would it have made a difference?"
"The Lord Invigilate surely acted in the best interests of the Crown. As did I."
Issul turned to Sir Bandullo, then checked herself, on the point of ordering him to place Gordallith under close arrest. Quite suddenly the precariousness of her position became clear. Would Bandullo obey her? He was Fectur's man also, as were the others. Gordallith was their superior. As Queen her authority exceeded Fectur's, yet. . . .
Did she dare put them to the test?
She felt suddenly vulnerable. All eyes were upon her.
"I merely followed orders, Your Majesty," said Gordallith softly at her shoulder.
In a way this saved her. It was Fectur who had committed the offence, not Gordallith, though almost certainly Gordallith was more aware of the full circumstances than he was admitting to. But in the heat of the moment she had almost failed to see that she had no reasonable grounds for arresting Gordallith.
"Your master exceeded his authority," she said, clearly so that all might hear.
Gordallith remained silent.
"We will discuss the matter further upon returning to Orbia. Until then, you are forbidden to speak to these people. Is that understood?"
"Yes, M'am."
"I will speak with you later. I want to know everything they told you. And Commander Gordallith, if they have been subjected to intimidation, you will pay."
She strode back inside, slamming the door shut behind her.
IV
"Moscul, do you remember much about your life up to now?"
Issul sat with the little boy upon a felled tree-trunk at the back of the cottage. The others remained inside. Fectur's men were still out front.
"Everything," Moscul replied. "I remember my birth."
"Your birth?" Was that possible? She shuddered, remembering.
"Yes, Aunt Issul. You were there. The first person I ever saw."
Issul said nothing. The little boy continued. "Even before. I recall the darkness of my mother's womb. The sounds, the warm liquid sensations. I recall you, Aunt Issul. Even before I was born I knew your voice."
Issul stared at him, her nephew. . . and what else? Her mind went back to the dreadful days prior to his birth, and she shuddered again. Ressa had been dead three days before he came from her womb.
Moscul smiled. His smile was proud, he was pleased with himself for revealing this to her. But there was a quiet menace in his eyes and she realized she feared him greatly.
"Aunt Issul," he said, and laid his head against her shoulder.
Issul almost recoiled. He was playing with her. He was performing a child, displaying affection in a measured, calculated, deliberate way. Nothing was spontaneous.
"Will you tell me?" she asked.
"Tell you what?"
"Well, let us begin with your memories of your mother. She was my sister, you know."
"Yes, I do know. You grieved sorely at her death, and you miss her still."
"That is true. I loved her very much."
"I don't want to talk about her," Moscul said. He scrambled to the ground, squatted down and began poking at the soil with a stick.
"Very well. What would you like to talk about?"
"Why have you come?"
Issul hesitated. "Because I believe you may be in danger."
He looked back at her, puzzlement creasing his fair brow.
How much does he know? she wondered. Does he yet know what he truly is?
"From who?"
"That I have yet to determine." She couldn't hold his gaze. The greatest danger may come from you!
"The old woman who came to me at the Old Pond - did she want to harm me?"
"It is possible. I don't yet know." She felt uncomfortable, talking with him as with an adult, when physically he was wholly a three-year-old.
"She wasn't with the other one."
"The young man? Are you sure of that, Moscul?"
"Oh yes. They came separately and did not know one another."
"Julion said the young man told him his name. Did you catch it?"
Moscul nodded.
"Can you tell me?"
"No."
"I think you can."
"Think what you like, Aunt Issul, Queen of Enchantment's Reach."
Issul sat quietly for a moment, then said, "You drew my attention when I was talking to Julion. Why?"
"He was lying."
"What about?"
"That's for you to find out."
"This is important, Moscul!" Issul said sharply.
The child's violet eyes gleamed insolently. "Then it's important that you find out, isn't it, Aunt?"
Issul held back her feelings. "Did Julion, or Ohirbe or Arrin, tell the soldier anything different to what they told me?"
"I don't know. The soldier did not interview them in my hearing."
Issul slipped down from the trunk and held out her hand. "Come. We will go back inside."
Like a true innocent, Moscul slipped his warm little hand into hers and trotted beside her back into the cottage. Ohirbe, Arrin and Julion sat as Issul had left them. Moscul made off to his area behind the screen. Issul joined the three. After a moment's consideration she said, "I must return to the palace. I will be taking Moscul with me."
Ohirbe gave a whimper. "Takin' 'im? The little one?"
Issul reached out and took her hand. "I have to, Ohirbe. It's for the best."
"Oh, Mistress. Oh, M'am. No, you mustn't take 'im from me. Please."
Issul looked into her face and saw the shock and misery there. For the first time it came to her, what she had done to these poor people. She had given them the baby. They had reared him as their own almost from the day of his birth. To their minds he was their child. They had no notion that he might be anything other than the innocent he appeared.
What right had I to do this to them?
Yes, she had warned Ohirbe at the beginning that, one day, she might return, that the child might not spend his entire life with them. But Ohirbe had just lost her own baby. To her this child had been a miracle sent - Issul felt the irony - sent by the gods in answer to her prayers and sorrow. At the time she had been in no state to take in fully what she was being told. She had heard only what she so desperately wanted to hear.
Even so, Ohirbe had been obedient to her instructions, had come to her the moment she had felt anything amiss. And now Issul was repaying her by snatching away her only child.
She thought quickly. "Ohirbe, I want you to come too. And Arrin. Julion also, if he wishes. You will be employed in my staff. You will continue to raise Moscul, but at Orbia, not here. How does that sound?
She only had to glimpse the woman's face to know the answer. Ohirbe and Arrin clutched each other, not quite able to take it in. To live and work in the royal palace! When they could speak, they spluttered their gratitude while Julion sat bemused. Issul hid her doubts. Knowing what she knew about Moscul, suspecting what she did, she feared that what she was now offering them was not the kindness they perceived.
She turned to Julion. "There is something you have not told me, Julion. I would like you to tell me now."
Julion blanched. He sat stiff as a dry twig, his eyes glued to the table. Ohirbe and Arrin were suddenly silent, staring at their cousin.
"Julion," Issul repeated softly. "There will be no repercussions, not if you tell me now." Her voice hardened. "Now, Julion."
"There was somethin'. I remember now," Julion mumbled. His eyes flicked nervously at Ohirbe, then back to the table. He tried to look at Issul, but was defeated.
Issul nodded. "Yes?"
"Yes, that's right, now. The young man. .
. at the Old Pond. . . 'e-- 'e gave Moscul somethin'. A gift."
"Julion! You never told us this!" blurted Ohirbe incredulously.
Issul silenced her. "What sort of gift, Julion?"
"It was a little carvin’ in white tusk. On a thong."
"What sort of carving."
"I don't know. It was an odd shape, not anythin' I could say."
"Julion, what're you sayin'? Mistress, 'e's never mentioned this before. 'as 'e, Arrin? Not ever. We would've said. Julion, I'll never forgive you for this!"
"So, the stranger gave Moscul an ivory carving on a thong," said Issul. "He actually gave it to Moscul?"
"'e put it 'round the little one's neck."
"And what happened to it?"
Julion swallowed, shamefaced. He tried to speak. Something caught in his throat. He bowed his head. "I took it, M'am."
"Julion! You--"
"Be quiet, Ohirbe!"
"I didn't mean no 'arm," Julion pleaded. "I thought it might be worth somethin'"
Issul closed her eyes.
"I thought I'd take it when I go to market, next week. Someone in town ought to be able to give me a price."
"So you have not yet sold it?" said Issul.
"No, M'am."
"Where is it? Will you show it to me?"
"Can't, M'am. The soldier took it. When 'e questioned me last night. 'e really frightened me. I 'ad to tell 'im."
Issul leapt up from her seat. "Stay here!"
She stormed outside. Sir Bandullo's men were lounging on the grass before the cottage. They leapt to their feet as she came out.
"Where is Commander Gordallith?"
"Gone, M'am," replied Sir Bandullo.
"Where?"
"To Orbia."
Issul swore, barely able to contain her emotion, then, "How long?"
"Good half hour, M'am."
He must have set off virtually the moment she left him to speak with Moscul, she realized. "The other two went with him?"
"Yes."
"Saddle up, we are leaving."
V
Issul knew there was no hope of catching Gordallith. She was hampered by the presence of Ohirbe, Arrin and Moscul. They rode behind her now in an ancient cart drawn by a single old drayhorse, their sole workbeast.