Pawn (The Pawn Series Book 1)

by Robin Roseau

  The two were called to the start line. The flag was dropped, and Corporal Bento got a clean start. Not so much Fortin. Hamper didn't understand the signal, but then Fortin slapped his mount's backside firmly, and Hamper took off.

  At that point, Hamper knew what he was doing, and Fortin didn't actually have to do much. And so while Corporal Bento got a much faster start, he was a large man, and his mount hadn't seen much racing around the barrels. Hamper had.

  It was a close race, a very close race, but in the end, Fortin was declared the winner. I sighed and looked over to Sergeant Hawk.

  "I'm sorry, Sergeant."

  She smiled. "Don't be, Lady Yallameenara. But you beat him. I don't like men like him, as charming as he seems with is false smiles and false promises."

  "The promises are false," I agreed, "but I think the smiles are honest, for whatever that is worth."

  "Perhaps they are."

  I looked her horse over. "You didn't switch mounts."

  "I've been practicing with Lippa here for days," she said. "We've grown accustomed to each other."

  "Days? We only announced the event two days ago."

  "We in the guard aren't foolish, Lady Yallameenara," she said.

  "No, of course you aren't. I suppose I am somewhat predictable."

  "Somewhat so, yes. We in the guard are amused when you resolve a diplomatic dispute from horseback."

  I smiled and inclined my head. "I suppose I should warn you the stands may be cheering for Lady Yallameenara."

  She smiled. "I'll stay close afterwards. In case he takes it poorly."

  I nodded. "Thank you, Sergeant."

  We reached across the space and clasped hands for a moment.

  "If you two are ready?" said the starter.

  "Ready," I called out as Zana turned to her course.

  "And I, as well," said the sergeant.

  The flag dropped.

  I didn't ask Zana for everything, in case there was one final race. And so I beat the sergeant only by a length and a half, enough it was never a contest.

  When racing I didn't ever pay attention to anything that didn't matter. So for a race such as this, all that mattered was Zana, the barrels, and in my periphery, my opponent.

  And so it wasn't until the race was won that I heard the people calling from the stands. Somehow they had formed into two groups, with one side calling out, "Yalla!" and the other side calling out in turn, "Meenara!"

  Zana and I came to a stop, and I bent over to pat her neck before dropping lightly to the ground. I turned to the winner's circle where Fortin was already waiting. Sergeant Hawk divested herself of Lippa, and then she was beside me. Together we walked to the winner's circle, Zana following behind, snorting and throwing her head gently now and then.

  Fortin gave a glare. As we drew closer, he said, "You are no serving wench."

  I smiled broadly. I knew Zana would behave, so I dropped her reins to the ground. She danced around a little behind me, but she didn't go anywhere. I turned to Sergeant Hawk. "Perhaps you could introduce us, Sergeant."

  "Fortin Grass of Drindari," the sergeant said formally, "May I present..." then she stumbled for a moment before smiling. "Lady Yallameenara of Garneer and Framara."

  He stared at my face. I waited, then said, "Do you not offer a knee to the queen's foster daughter, Grass?"

  It was belated and somewhat poorly done, but he offered a knee before standing again. I stepped forward and whispered into his ear, "If you win one more race, you can have a princess along with Lady Muranna, who has shared my bed for years."

  Let him believe what he wanted as I leaned away. "But first you must beat me."

  He looked into my eyes for a moment, the confusion -- and anger -- still apparent. But then he smoothed his features and became the diplomat. "Garneer. Isn't that the wild grasslands to the east?"

  "My people call it The Hippa," I said. "I was raised a girl of the Arrlotta -- the horse people, you could say. But now I am of Framara." I smiled. "Surely you have heard of the queen's foster daughter."

  Then I turned to the race master. "What is my fee to advance to the final race?"

  "One thousand crowns," he said. "From each of you."

  "I believe Lady Muranna has my fee waiting," I said. I turned back to Fortin. "Will we be racing, Mr. Grass?"

  Fortin had my attention, so I didn't notice the commotion. But then the race master turned to his left and offered a knee.

  Queen Ralalta, Princess Juleena, and a woman I didn't recognize at first, but then realized it was the Drindarian ambassador, were approaching, Muranna following along behind him. She carried a small chest, which I knew was my final entry fee, and she had found time to change clothes.

  I offered a curtsey. Sergeant Hawk did not, telling me she considered herself on duty. Fortin was slow to offer a fresh knee himself, but then Ralalta bid us to rise.

  "Such a serious conversation," the queen declared. "Congratulations to both of you. I am looking forward to the final match."

  "Mr. Grass has not yet committed himself," I said. "Lady Muranna, is that my fee?"

  "It is," she said, handing the box to the race master.

  "Lady Muranna," Fortin said somewhat numbly. Muranna offered a ghost of a curtsey to him. It was quite sarcastic.

  "You have been a naughty boy, Fortin," she said with a smile.

  "I don't understand," he declared.

  "What is this nonsense of not riding the final race?" said the ambassador. "Are you afraid of a slip of a girl, Grass?" And then he spoke rapidly in Drindarian, which I didn't speak.

  But at my shoulder, Sergeant Hawk whispered into my ear. "The ambassador is not any happier than we are."

  But then the ambassador switched back into his accented Framaran, although perhaps not as deeply accented as my own. "You have the undivided attention of the entire royal family, Grass. I told your brother something like this would happen, and I told you this was the wrong city for your games. And so, you may be a cad and a louse, but will you also be declared a coward?"

  Fortin put on a face, and it was one I thought I may have seen in the mirror a time or two. He looked quite stubborn, actually. "I am no coward, but I am also no fool." He looked at me. "You would not pay your debt even if I were to win. I believe I will take my winnings and depart the field."

  "Very good," I said before anyone could say anything else. "Race master, pay him his winnings."

  There was a table set up, and it was actually one of the clerks who stepped forward with a pouch. He counted out the coins to the race master, who then in turn held the small stack of heavy coins to Fortin.

  "But that's not even what I've wagered."

  "Ah," I said. "That is because you have been racing the commoners, at least after the second race. You don't expect a corporal of the guard to wager as much as a member of the Drindarian delegation."

  He turned back to me.

  "Of course, you and I have paid our fee as befit our station, even if I am born only a girl of the Arrlottan. My sum matches yours." I smiled sweetly. "If you accept your winnings, you get half of what the men have paid, and as the grand winner, I will take the other half."

  He opened and closed his mouth several times then said, in a small voice, "I did not bring so much coin."

  "I would accept a note of promise," I replied.

  At that he smiled again and nodded. I waited for him to write the note out, the clerk providing paper and quill. Once it was handed to the race master, I smiled. "Excellent. Your Highness, what is a string of good polo ponies worth? I believe Fortin's ponies are quite excellent."

  He started at that. "You can't take my horses!"

  "Only in surety if you should lose this race. You may have them back once you have paid your debt." I didn't wait for him to respond. "Your Majesty?"

  "I believe everyone is waiting for the final polo match," she declared.

  * * * *

  With several guards at the entrance, Mellara shoved me into my
finest riding gear as Muranna and Juleena looked on. I hugged Mellara briefly once she declared my appearance acceptable.

  But then she stood awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot. "What is it, Mellara?"

  "Zana is tired, and Hamper has only raced once today."

  "Zana is acting," I countered. "Do you know why we're doing this?"

  She paused and then nodded slowly.

  "Does everyone?" I asked.

  "Probably not everyone," she said. "But everyone in the palace does."

  I looked to Juleena about that, worried that Gina had spoken out of turn, but Juleena held up a hand. "Me," she said.

  "You?"

  She nodded, and so I returned her nod. "All right."

  Juleena stepped up to me and examined me carefully, then smiled. "Well done, Mellara."

  "If I had more time-"

  "It's a horse race," Juleena said. "Not a ball.

  "Very good, Your Majesty," Mellara said with a quick curtsey. She turned for the door, but I set a hand on her arm.

  "Thank you, Mellara," I told her. She nodded, and then she stepped out between the waiting guards.

  Juleena and I turned to each other. She set her hands on my shoulders. "Kick his ass."

  I smiled. "Don't I always? Do you want me to cheat?"

  "How could you possibly cheat in a horse race?"

  "I can whistle."

  "Whistle?" She began to grin. "A secret signal only Hamper would know?"

  "Well, I suspect all the Arrlottan horses would remember," I said.

  "Can you win without doing so? Zana is tired."

  "Oh, please," I said. "Zana loves beating Hamper. She's not going to let him win." I paused. "Can you make sure Hamper is safe from him though?"

  "Keelara is already handling it," she replied. With Keelara on it, I knew Hamper would be okay. But she shook her head.

  "What is it?"

  "This is an unusual way to solve diplomatic muddles such as these."

  "This seems quite natural to a girl from The Hippa," I replied. "It's either a horse race or a fight, and I think a horse race is far more civilized. Don't you?"

  "Definitely, Yalla." She smiled at me, and I leaned in and kissed her cheek briefly.

  "For luck," I said. We grinned at each other.

  * * * *

  I was noticed the moment I appeared, and evidently enough people realized I would be riding for the honor of Framara. They began chanting my name again.

  I stepped onto the race course, I waved to people, pivoting in a circle as I walked. I offered a curtsey towards the queen and blew kisses to a few people I recognized.

  Who would ever have guessed? A girl of the Arrlotta accepting this much attention.

  Zana was waiting for me, managed carefully by one of the grooms. She'd been rubbed down and was preening under the attention. I spoke to her quietly, blowing into her face gently for a moment. She flicked her tail a few times, and then I hopped aboard her. The groom released her neck, and she danced around a little bit.

  She knew the running wasn't over, and Zana loved to run as much as I did.

  I bent over and spoke in Arrlottan to her. Oh, she didn't understand the words, or so I didn't think, but she knew I was talking to her. "We have one more race, my girl. We have to beat your brother. You don't mind that at all, do you?"

  No, she wouldn't mind at all.

  Fortin was already at the starting line. I walked Zana over. She wanted to prance, but I put a stop to that. Fortin glared at me.

  There was no one in hearing range as I drew close, and so there was no one to hear him when he said, "You are a woman of no honor to engage in such duplicity."

  "I believe you should look a little closer to home before you talk about honor," I replied. "How many girls heard your false promises? How many have been taken in by laughter and dimples? How many are now with children to be raised with no father? How many girls have gifted you their maidenhood?"

  "They were all willing."

  "What promises did you make, Mr. Grass, with no intention of keeping any of them? How many bastards have you left behind? Do you even know? It doesn't seem you care."

  "And I am to believe the Queen of Framara cares what happens in the lives of a few serving maids. It's not like a single one was a lady to begin with."

  "Ah, so because they are of low birth, they deserve to be your victims. I understand." I turned away and set Zana to the starting line. I nodded to the starter, who barely waited for Fortin to declare he was ready before the flag dropped.

  I didn't have to whistle. Of course, it wasn't even close. I rode Zana hard, and she gave me everything I asked and then some. Fortin was barely rounding the last barrel as we crossed the finish.

  I then brought Zana to a stop, turning to watch him. He and Hamper crossed, riding hard before coming to a stop. Fortin and I looked up and down at each other, and then he spoke.

  "This is your mount, isn't it?"

  "My second best," I said. "Will you now abuse him?"

  "No," he said.

  I offered a small bow from my waist. "Thank you for your donation to the women and children you left behind you."

  "That's what this was all about?"

  "What else?" I asked. "You might be the worst sort of cad, but we couldn't find anything criminal in what you did. We will wait to see if there are children and then make a disbursement. Good day."

  He was already slipping from Hamper, and the groom was there, waiting, and so I turned my back. And then I rode before the stands, waving as the crowd roared its approval. It was a simple race, and I didn't think I deserved any greater accolades than the winning polo team had received. But it seemed, that day at least, I was popular.

  I came to a stop before the royal box and bowed from my waist to the queen.

  "Lady Yallameenara," she called out to me. "Well ridden."

  "Thank you, Your Majesty," I said. "It was entirely my pleasure."

  * * * *

  It was a long day, and I was well ready for bed by the time I was released. Muranna was waiting for me, already in her dressing gown. Mellara helped me from my own gown and into my clothing for bed before disappearing for her own sleep. Muranna gestured to the bed, but I shook my head. "I must say my words."

  "The words your mother taught you."

  "Yes."

  She nodded. She knew I spoke to my mother, although I'd never told her what words Mother had taught me. I turned from her, heading for the balcony. I stepped outside into the chill of the night, the breeze from the sea cool and brisk. I listened to the surf far below me for a minute or two, and then I spoke the words.

  Yahtize málon forseck a milona prestainamatta varth.

  I said them three times, and then I spoke in Arrlottan for a while, talking to a mother who couldn't hear me, a woman who may no longer even live. Life on The Hippa is hard, after all.

  But then I heard a noise from behind me. I turned, and Muranna stood at the door, a hand over her mouth.

  "I'm sorry, Yalla," she said. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I know this is your private time. But what language were you just speaking."

  "Arrlottan," I replied. "You've heard it before."

  "That wasn't all Arrlottan, though, was it?"

  "Well, not the words my mother taught me." I looked down. "I'm not sure what the words mean, and I don't even know if I'm saying them properly."

  Muranna stepped onto the balcony with me, taking my hands in hers. "Maybe you should say them to me. I might recognize the language."

  I dropped one hand and turned back to face the sea. Muranna stepped to my side, and we leaned against each other. I didn't speak at first, but then I said the words, feeling very self-conscious about it.

  Yahtize málon forseck a milona prestainamatta varth.

  Beside me, Muranna stiffened a little, then relaxed. But we turned to each other, and she stared at me in the dim light. The she lifted a hand and ran her fingers through my short hair. She had the look of someone who
suddenly realized something, but I didn't know what it was.

  "Are you sure those are the words?" she asked me.

  "No," I said. "I think Mama expected me to learn what they meant some day. She said when I understood what the words meant, I would also know what to do about them. I've tried to discover what language they're in, but no one I've asked seems to know."

  "Say it again," she said. And so I said the words again, and then twice more for her, saying them very slowly.

  But then Muranna repeated them to me, and they sounded quite different in her accent than in mine. "Could that be it?" she asked.

  "Maybe," I said. "It's not Altearan."

  "No, it's not," she said. She paused just a moment. "I don't recognize the language. I'm sorry."

  "I think perhaps my mother made up the words."

  "Oh, I doubt that."

  "I should stop saying them every night."

  "You made a promise though, didn't you. And you use this time to think of your mother, don't you?"

  "Yes."

  "You shouldn't stop, Yalla," she said. "But-"

  "But?"

  "You shouldn't let anyone else hear the words, either. Who else have you told?"

  "Juleena introduced me to a scholar at the university. He didn't recognize the language and assured me he would have if it were from one of the civilized tongues."

  She nodded. And then she ran fingers through my hair again. "Why do you wear it so short?"

  "I just always have," I said. "Father made me cut it. And Mother's, too. He cut hers himself. Now when I get it cut anew, I think of Mother." I smiled briefly. "He used to chop it raggedly with a knife. Your hairdresser does a much better job."

  Muranna twisted some of the strands between her fingers before dropping her hand. She nodded. "Come to bed?"

  "All right."

  Ten and Eight

  Autumn arrived. We didn't know my exact birthday, only that I'd been born late in autumn or early in winter. But early winter in The Hippa is still late autumn in Marport. And so the autumn after I had first come to Framara, Juleena and Ralalta had chosen a date for my birthday, two weeks before the official start of winter. I never really felt the need to know the exact date of my birth, but Juleena had explained it was important.