Donnel's Promise

by Mackenzie, Anna

  ‘Hawking’s not allowed in the scholar’s compound.’

  ‘I’ve nothing to hawk,’ Fenn protested.

  ‘That’s the one,’ a second guardsman said. ‘I saw her sellin’ ’em.’

  ‘I brought a few parasols as gifts for the palace ladies,’ Fenn said. ‘It was never my intention to sell them.’

  ‘You’d have a job convincing a magistrate of that, given your pocket’s jingling with coins. This way.’

  The guards cleared a path to the gate and ejected them onto the street.

  ‘Thing is,’ the first man said, once they were safely outside, ‘I wouldn’t mind one of them parabrellas for my wife. She’s very fair, see. Sun colours her up something shocking, but she’s determined to watch tomorrow’s parade.’

  Fenn straightened her clothing. ‘I have a few left at the marina. I could let you have one at a very favourable rate. Your choice, of course, though if your wife’s fair, perhaps something in sky blue might suit her?’

  The guardsmen escorted them through the town, adding a usefully intimidating presence when a bureaucrat queried their request to access the unprocessed goods shed. Fenn gifted all three men with a parasol and waved her thanks as they were speedily cleared to leave their berth.

  ‘Kind of them,’ Fenn said, as she steered a path through the dank tunnel that led them onto the open river. ‘Now if you’d like to take up a pole, we’ve a barge to return and an appointment to keep.’

  Wishes and dreams

  Muir was waiting in a ruined farmstead an hour north of the locks. He looked as though he hadn’t slept in days.

  ‘Thank Sargath.’

  ‘I told you there wouldn’t be a problem,’ Risha said.

  ‘And Goltoy’s a pussycat with kisses for claws. Let’s get moving.’

  ‘You don’t want to wait for nightfall?’ Fenn asked.

  ‘I want to get as far from Elion as we can. I trust that recklessness proved useful,’ he added, as he began saddling their horses.

  ‘We saw Ciaran. Lyse’s identity is still a secret, and Talben is alive, though I found out less than I would like — we ran out of time. But it is now certain that he shares the Gift, which may provide a way for us to find him.’

  ‘Elion is overrun with Westlarn soldiers,’ Fenn said. ‘Both Talben and Donnel are wise to stay clear.’

  ‘Wiser than us then,’ Muir said, tightening Mica’s girth.

  Tiredness overcame Risha’s control of her temper. ‘Given you disapproved so strongly, perhaps you shouldn’t have come at all,’ she snapped. Before they left she had argued that Nolan should be the one to accompany them, but Muir had not taken her concern for his welfare well. ‘Have your ribs improved with the ride?’

  His expression grew cool. ‘My ribs are fine.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it.’

  Fenn looked skyward and sighed.

  ‘What?’ Risha demanded, but the woman only shook her head and swung into the saddle.

  They made camp two hours before sunrise and slept till an hour after. Risha woke gritty with fatigue. Fenn handed her a steaming mug of tea.

  ‘We’ll ride on for a few hours then rest through the heat of the day,’ she said.

  ‘Why not rest here?’ Risha sipped the tea and burnt her mouth.

  ‘We’re too exposed,’ Muir said. ‘When you’re ready, my lady.’

  His continued polite deference was beginning to wear on her nerves.

  They saw no one all morning save a family weeding a beet crop, and passed between fields of onions lifted and drying in pungent rows.

  At noon Muir chose a copse of hazels and sweet chestnut and Fenn prepared a meal. The journey had at least returned Risha’s appetite. After she’d eaten her fill she settled back to rest.

  ‘I’ll stand first watch,’ Fenn said, stretching her arms.

  ‘Wake me in an hour,’ Muir said.

  ‘Two,’ she countered. ‘You’ve barely slept.’

  He didn’t answer.

  Above Risha’s head the green skirts of ripening hazels were beginning to curl and spread. ‘They’re like ladies’ dresses,’ she said, to no one in particular.

  Muir settled more comfortably. ‘Nut fairies, according to my sister.’

  He’d spoken once before about his family, when she’d newly arrived in LeMarc. She’d felt envious then, of so normal a childhood.

  ‘I’ve never heard of nut fairies.’

  ‘When she was seven she assured me they’re the very best kind for listening to wishes.’

  Risha stared up through the leafy branches. Wishes were fragile things. She gathered a breath. ‘I’ve been meaning to thank you for — for stopping those men.’

  There was a beat of silence. ‘Would that I could have killed them slowly, inch by inch.’

  She blinked at the low ferocity of his voice. Muir put his hands behind his head and stared up into the trees.

  A bird hopped from one branch to another above her head. Sleep stole up through her limbs. Risha caught another trailing thought. ‘Margetta told me you asked Donnel for permission to ride with him.’

  Muir had gone so still she thought he might have fallen asleep. She lifted her head to see his profile. His eyes were open. ‘Muir? Will he be angry that you left her alone?’

  ‘She’s not alone.’

  ‘No, but—’

  ‘Sleep, Arishara,’ he said. ‘We’ve a long ride ahead.’

  They rode through the late afternoon and evening, stopping at moonrise for a meal of stale bread and jerky.

  Risha yawned.

  ‘We might manage tonight,’ Fenn said quietly, ‘but after that we’ll need to rest.’

  ‘By tomorrow evening we’ll be within reach of Leighton.’

  ‘Aye, and in what state?’ She tipped her head toward Risha.

  Muir’s mouth tightened. ‘The sooner we’re off the roads of Havre the better.’

  When they remounted Risha felt light-headed with fatigue. She looped the reins loosely around her wrist, trusting Mica to follow Fenn’s mount, so that she might concentrate on staying awake just enough to keep her seat.

  Images flickered through her head as she slipped in and out of a doze. Ships landing on a rocky shore; a watchman’s cry, abruptly silenced; moonlight impaled on a fence of swords. A man strode into a high-ceilinged hall draped in banners of black and gold — for a moment she thought it was her father, but his face was obscured by shadows. A woman wept.

  Something darted past her face and Risha flinched to full wakefulness with a startled cry.

  ‘It was a bat.’ Muir’s voice came from close by her left shoulder. ‘They’re drawn to the insects disturbed by our passing. They won’t hurt you.’

  She squinted into the shadowy dark. Clouds rode fast across the sky, ducking and diving across the squashed curve of the moon.

  ‘You’ve nearly fallen twice,’ he said. ‘We’ll stop as soon as we find somewhere safe to make camp.’

  ‘I’m fine.’

  He didn’t answer.

  Mica’s rhythmic swaying gait lulled her back into a doze. It was like being on a ship, body rolling with the lift and fall of the waves. It was the moon that pulled the waves higher and lower — Gorth had told her that. The moon pulled at her now, drawing her sideways, drawing her down.

  She jerked awake as she fell. Someone gripped her shoulders; she flailed for a handhold.

  ‘I have you.’ Her legs were tangled. She kicked out. ‘Steady.’ There was a pained grunt and she was firm again.

  ‘Muir?’

  ‘You’re safe now. Go back to sleep.’

  She blinked awake. She was sitting sideways in Muir’s lap, her legs hitched over his thigh, shoulder tucked against his chest. She sighed and settled, felt his arms tighten around her. Safe. Fatigue weighted her limbs and sent her plummeting into a deep, moonless dark.

  Ciaran stood behind Lyse brushing the girl’s hair in slow, soothing strokes. ‘He is just a man, Lyse, and he has thus far treate
d you with honour. He won’t hurt you.’

  Candles reflected in the glass and sent shadows flickering around the walls. ‘I did not choose my first marriage, but I was happy in it,’ Ciaran said. Setting the brush aside she picked up a silver goblet. ‘Here. A little wine will help.’

  Lyse took it. ‘Will he come soon?’

  There was a commotion outside the door. ‘Stand aside! I will speak with her.’

  Ciaran stepped in front of the seated girl, but too late. Vormer stood in the doorway, his face contorting as he saw them. Crossing the room in three strides he shoved Ciaran aside, his hand closing on Lyse’s chin, twisting her cheeks and mouth. Lyse whimpered as he towed her upright, her wine spilling in a red pool across the floor.

  ‘My Lord Vormer. Stop.’ Ciaran walked to the door, but rather than summon the guards she closed it quietly and set her back against it.

  ‘You will pay for this deception,’ Vormer hissed, his nostrils flaring white.

  ‘Hear me, my lord: what choice did we have?’

  ‘I will not believe a word spoke by your lying tongue, you cold-faced whore!’ He shoved Lyse away. She fell back against the stool, oversetting it as she stumbled to her knees. ‘I will see you destroyed.’ Vormer advanced on Ciaran. She didn’t flinch. ‘I will—’

  ‘Arishara is dead,’ Ciaran said, her voice low and steady.

  Vormer checked himself.

  ‘She died at Bray. When Goltoy’s brigands attacked I begged her to remain with Lyse and me in the kitchen, but she paid me no heed. You knew her: so headstrong! So sure of her own infallibility.’ She sighed, and shook her head. ‘She put an arrow through one of Harbin’s men, but it only brought two others down on her. She was run through before either man thought to query who they fought. Fools!’

  She was so convincing that Risha might almost have believed it.

  Ciaran raised her hands. ‘My lord, what could I do? For any of us to survive I had to act as I did! And do you not see, it has played out well.’

  ‘This is well? This charade?’

  Ciaran looked past him. ‘Go to your marriage bed, my lady. Close the door. Harbin will be with you soon.’

  Her hands shaking a little, Lyse did as Ciaran said.

  ‘You think to talk your way around me?’ Vormer sneered.

  ‘Why did you come here tonight, Councillor Vormer? To gloat?’

  His hands closed into fists.

  ‘You hold Havre in your palm. Is that not what matters?’ Ciaran’s voice dropped to a harsh whisper. ‘I acted as I did to escape death at the hands of those brigands, but think, Vormer: it is an opportunity! The girl is more malleable than the other would have been. This marriage secures more than a treaty with Westlaw.’

  ‘She looks nothing like the girl. It cannot go unnoticed.’

  ‘Not in Havre, but in Westlaw. Her future must lie there and there alone. My Lord Havre.’

  She had him. His mouth relaxed from a harsh line to a thoughtful pout.

  ‘Who else knows?’

  ‘No one. The guardsmen with us died on the road at Bray. I’d not bargained on a retinue of Havrean wives, but we’ve managed to avoid them.’

  ‘And the tale you told me of a child in her belly: is it true?’

  ‘It soon will be.’ Her smile was chilling.

  Vormer watched her like a snake. ‘You were wasted on Athan. You deserve a better match.’ His tongue flickered between his lips. ‘My wife Lenora. She is not well.’

  Ciaran blinked. ‘I’d not heard.’

  ‘You will. You will, my lady.’

  Risha gulped air into her lungs and fought her way upward.

  ‘Hush. You’re safe.’ Muir’s arm tightened around her.

  She twisted to stare at him, her breath coming in pained gasps.

  ‘Stay still or you’ll have us both on the ground.’

  She was in his arms, on a horse. She steadied a little.

  ‘That’s better.’ He settled his arms more easily about her. ‘You’ve been asleep, and dreaming. Not an easy dream by the look of it.’

  She felt the warm rumble of his voice through his chest. ‘I saw Ciaran and Lyse. It was her wedding today.’

  ‘Yesterday. It’s nearly morning.’

  A pale smear of light lay along the eastern horizon. She twisted to see him. ‘Ciaran said he wouldn’t … wouldn’t hurt her.’

  Muir took a moment to locate her train of thought. ‘I’ve always heard Harbin was a decent man. Nothing like his uncle.’

  His face was half a breath from her own. She stared at the puckered line of scarring on his cheek, and his mouth.

  ‘Lyse agreed to the deception, Risha, for her sake as well as yours. And it has so far kept her safe.’

  The muscles of her throat jerked. ‘Vormer knows. He burst into their rooms, but he will not give Lyse away.’ She searched his eyes, trying to see if he believed her. ‘Ciaran told him I was dead.’

  With his left arm he drew her in against his chest. ‘You are not.’ His heart was beating hard beneath her shoulder. ‘And I swear to you, Risha, I will do everything in my power to keep it that way.’

  She settled back, and felt him shift to accommodate her weight. ‘Your ribs!’ She straightened. ‘This must hurt.’

  ‘Less if you stay still,’ he said stiffly.

  Guilt at her thoughtlessness rushed through her.

  Muir’s mouth quirked. ‘It’s all right, Risha.’

  She studied him doubtfully then leant carefully back, wrapping her arm around his shoulder so that she might put less pressure on his damaged ribs. ‘Promise you’ll tell me if it becomes too much.’

  ‘I’ll tell you,’ he said, his voice muffled against her hair.

  They rode in silence for a few minutes. Risha slipped towards sleep.

  ‘You’ve been gone too long,’ she mumbled, her voice blurred by exhaustion. ‘I missed you when you didn’t come back from Fratton.’

  He made a low sound in his throat. ‘It was for the best.’

  ‘Better now.’ She burrowed in against his neck, feeling his arm tighten but not hearing his reply.

  Rumours and truths

  From a wooded hill above the town they watched the road into Leighton. When they’d stopped to rest at midday Risha had fallen into fitful sleep. It had not left her refreshed; rather she felt blurred, the line between reality and dream ill-defined. She shifted wearily in her saddle.

  ‘There’s too much traffic on the road,’ Muir said.

  ‘And most of it from the barracks,’ Fenn confirmed. ‘Vormer’s up to something.’

  ‘Or Goltoy.’

  ‘I’ll go in and nose around; see what’s happening at the docks.’

  Muir’s doubt was tangible.

  ‘No one’s going to bother a weary riverwoman on her way back from a cash-run to Elion,’ Fenn said. ‘I’ll be back in an hour; two at most. You should rest. Both of you.’

  Without waiting for a reply she nudged her horse towards the road.

  ‘Are you hungry?’ Muir asked. They’d eaten when they’d stopped to rest, but it was now close to dusk.

  Risha shook her head. Picketing the horses to graze, Muir selected a tree that gave a view of the road and the eastern flank of the hill and settled his back against it.

  ‘I’ll stand watch if you like,’ she offered.

  ‘You should sleep.’

  ‘I’m not tired,’ she said. It wasn’t true, but her body jangled with restless tension. She’d lost all sense of day or night; of what was real and what a dream.

  ‘Come and sit down at least.’

  A memory of dozing in his lap brought a soft smudge of colour to her cheeks. Resolutely ignoring a treacherous notion of resting within the safe curve of his arm, she chose a tree and settled against it, drawing up her legs and wrapping her arms around her shins.

  Muir watched her. ‘How did you find Havre before all this?’ he asked. ‘You’d been here several weeks, I think?’

  ‘Longer.�
� She rested her chin on her knees. ‘I enjoyed it more once I was out of the city. The countryside is lovely and the climate easier than LeMarc’s.’

  She let her thoughts range back, before Fratton and Bray, before the visions, before Nonno died and Lyse was married in Risha’s stead. ‘Have you ever been to the west of Havre?’ she asked.

  He shook his head.

  ‘There’s an inn where they have a bath-house with a huge wooden tub, large enough to share, so you can soak right up to your chin in steaming hot water. Nolan said his troop arranges to pass there as often as they can.’

  ‘Nolan took you?’

  ‘When we were on the way to Bray. Ciaran hadn’t ridden for years — she said it helped.’ She sighed. ‘If I could have anything I wished right this minute …’

  Muir tipped his head back against the whorled trunk. Risha watched him idly. ‘What about Fratton?’ she said. ‘How did you find it? Aside from the political squabbling.’

  ‘There’s nothing but squabbling in Fratton.’

  ‘There must be!’

  His eyes roamed the slope below them.

  ‘What’s your best memory of the past few years?’ she persisted.

  A grim smile flickered and was gone.

  ‘There,’ she said. ‘What were you thinking of then?’

  He glanced at her. ‘I was remembering you putting that jumped-up little thug of a guardsman in his place outside the barbican. I never had time to deal with that sergeant,’ he added. ‘He’ll keep, I daresay.’

  Risha could think of nothing to say. As the silence stretched she got up. ‘I’ll check the horses.’

  She found them snuffling windfall apples from the grass, and picked one from the tree above. It was hard and tart, but a brief search located a wild plum laden with fruit. Juice dribbled down her chin when she bit into the sweet golden flesh. Making a sling of her skirt she carried a share back to Muir and they sat in companionable silence as the setting sun washed the hills in a mellow apricot light.

  ‘Fenn should be back by now,’ Risha said, as the dusk slowly settled into evening.

  ‘Waiting is always the hardest part.’ His teeth flashed. ‘What do you think it was like for me, when you and Fenn went off to Elion?’