by Guy Antibes
Sara had just rationalized away the deaths of the soldiers. She chided herself for thinking that way. She knew that led to a hardness of character she didn’t want. She had to feel for those deaths to make them mean something. Choster and Meldey’s still made her infinitely sad. She didn’t want to lose that grief forever, but she did need to put it in a place that didn’t adversely affect her actions. Was that still too hard of a thought? The concepts frustrated her.
She wiped away a tear. Looking at the dampness on her finger, she thought crying would do little to bring anyone that had died back. Meldey, Choster, the two officers, Rester Silver and his lover Analea Wester. Why couldn’t she be giggling in the tearoom back at Belting Hollow with Anna and Vesty? She shook her head at the enormity of tragedy that encircled her life.
Look forward, not back. How could she not at least think about the past? She did. Sara needed to remember the past so that her future wouldn’t lead her to a total disregard for life. Meldey was a hard enough woman. She accepted her missions, knowing that they included the death of her targets. Sara wouldn’t become a Meldey—may the One God give her Salvation. She had felt a loss of innocence on her trip through Shattuk Downs last year, yet her tears brought out her grief. Each one represented how she felt. No, they wouldn’t bring them back, but her own life’s moisture signified that she remembered those she loved and that she regretted taking the lives of her enemies. She let them flow, but restrained from sobbing, wanting to cry without waking the drivers.
She took a deep breath and wiped her face with a handkerchief. She idly fiddled with the armrest and found that it lifted up, revealing a storage compartment. She felt around and couldn’t find anything, but looked at the label underneath the lid—Brownhill Carriages.
She brought her hand up to her neck to clutch the little carriage whistle that Klark had given her, disappointed that it wasn’t there. Sara put her head back and continued to look at the flat countryside flowing past her window. She missed him. Klark had been pushed from her mind except for a few moments in the last weeks, but he always returned. She pressed her lips together. She wished she could talk to Willa, or better yet, Lily about her feelings about Klark in the context of her life. If Lily still lived. Sara wanted to see her again and didn’t want Lily to join the legion of her dead.
Where was her control when it came to Klark? She could look at the fire weapon and think of how to defend against it. Idea after idea would come. She could use it against soldiers who sought her life or capture. She hated the loss, but knew she would act when the time came.
What would he thing when he learned of her latest exploits. Would he recoil at the revelation of her magic—a power that she had used to kill?
What did he fail to understand her? He seemed to change after he rejoined his father’s business. She wanted to reconcile, but she didn’t know how to do it or what she would say. Winter’s Rise wouldn’t have been the proper time. Winter’s Rise was long past, in time, but in distance as well. She committed that her next stop would be Stonebridge once this unpleasantness with Belonnia ended.
~
The wheels began to clatter some time before they entered a large town. Sara didn’t care to remember what the town names were on the Eastern side of the country, but the carriage would stop here for a meal and a change of horses. They had been through ten sets on their trip through Parthy. When had the bird arrived, if it arrived at all? Houses began to crop up along the side of the road and soon they traveled through the center of the city. A sign said Plainview. The houses and commercial buildings rose to three or four stories, and some of those sported dormers. They rode through Plainview to the other side and stopped at an inn.
“Time to freshen up, Miss Featherwood. We’ll reach Parth in two or three hours, so we’d all like to join you in a meal before we drop you off in Parth.” The driver said it so nicely that Sara couldn’t refuse.
The instructions were given for the horses and the four of them went into the inn.
“Private room if you’ve got one, Innkeep,” a driver said.
Once they were seated and had ordered off of a menu, Sara sat back. She had once again arrived back to civilization. No tattoos. No Emperors. No obnoxious students. She’d gotten to know a bit about the drivers, asking about their families and what they had done in their lives while they rode.
To a man, they were all still in the army, but had to nurse some kind of injury that took them out of active duty.
“We’d like to give you a toast, Miss Sara. To as fine a lass who ever worked in His Majesty’s Service!” He raised his glass and downed the wine in a gulp. Sara took a sip.
“To all of the brave men who have served the Crown after they could have retired,” she countered and, with a smile, took another sip.
“It’s an honor to have brought you to Parth, Countess. We know about your exploits in Shattuk Downs and now you’ve added to them, although we don’t know much. You were pretty closed mouth on the trip.”
“I’m sorry I was such poor company,” Sara said. These men were the salt of the earth. Her actions might lead to saving their lives. If not their own, then their brothers in arms. Suddenly the deaths and the sacrifices made had been put into perspective. Medley injury and subsequent death had led her to discover the Belonnian army camp and the fire weapon.
The cost had been high, for her personally, but looking into the men’s faces made it worth it. She raised her glass again. “To Parthy!”
~
She gave the directions to her house and soon rode through her gate. Her small staff lined up outside in the cold. Duke Northcross came out of the door and stood at the end of them with his hands folded in front of him as if he were a butler.
The drivers helped unload her meager possessions. Duke Northcross took the fire weapon after the briefest of hugs. He didn’t even know how to do that. Had he forgotten in the last twenty years?
The Duke waited while Sara took a long, long overdue bath. She put on a Shattuk Downs style dress and descended the stairs, feeling that she walked in a dream after her ordeal in Okalla.
“In here,” the Duke said, stepping out of the dining room.
She walked in. The table had been set for the two of them. “You received my message?”
“I did indeed. Remarkable what was unsaid. I presume that Streams didn’t make it?” His statement seemed so matter-of-fact, so detached that his demeanor repelled Sara.
“The Emperor joined the student group in Parthy. I wondered why he deigned to speak with us since no other student would talk to us. They kept Lily and me at arm’s length and, quite frankly, despised the very fact we were there.”
“Go on.”
“His performance as a student convinced me. The man spoke excellent Parthian. He made a few slips, but I thought he was another spy that you employed. Miller, his real name was Millinak, knew I had joined in the group. According to Emperor Hansfeld, he had Millis Shields work to insert him into the group.” Sara became confused for a moment as her mind reeled with a revelation. The Duke would have to know about any manipulation and he still asked her to go. “You knew the Emperor wanted me as a slave?”
“No, but the Belonnians requested the exchange and I knew about a high ranking Belonnian inserted into the group. I had no idea Hansfeld would be so stupid as to take such a risk.”
Sara couldn’t speak for a moment. “If Meldey and I hadn’t killed him, I’d be his consort. Unwilling. Captive. You knew.”
“Just think. A Parthian, in the closest proximity to the Emperor, feeding us information as it became available. It would have been a coup.”
“But what about Linssa? Her husband is highly placed,” Sara said and she didn’t like the way the Duke shrugged.
“And Meldey? Where did she fit in?”
Northcross fiddled with a large ring on a finger. “Just what you were told. She went to assassinate Miller. Killing the Emperor was an improvisation. She willingly left knowing she likely wouldn’t r
eturn and she didn’t.”
“No. She’s buried somewhere on the road from Okalla to the Eastern Mountains. I helped kill the Emperor with my magic after Meldey had slammed her hand into his neck, doing damage to his windpipe.” She looked at her father with an anger she tried to repress. “As he burned, Meldey still cut his throat to make sure he wouldn’t survive. We jumped into the river that runs by the palace and dragged ourselves out. Lily and Linssa wanted to return on the coast. I couldn’t do that with Meldey severely injured.” Sara couldn’t go on for a minute. She forced herself to look Duke Northcross in the eyes.
“I couldn’t leave her, so Willa and I escaped to the west on a cart with Meldey. Two soldiers stopped us after Meldey died. One of them tried to rape me. Nothing different from what the Emperor would have done. Willa and I killed them with the guns.”
“Guns?” Duke Northcross sat up straighter. “You had guns?”
“Yes. The false top on the trunks. One held Meldey’s weapons, the other had three guns and cartridges. You didn’t put them there?”
The Duke looked off, thinking. “Hedge. He’s fired.”
“Why would you fire him? I don’t know who put the guns in the trunk. Why would you? Does his contribution mean nothing to you? Those guns saved Willa and me. You should award him with a citation or something.”
Northcross turned red. “Who are you to tell me who means something and who doesn’t? That’s not your decision.”
“But I’m part of you.” Sara felt like her conflict with Ben repeated itself with a different father. Her heart sunk.
“We are Passcolds, but I’m wedded to the Kingdom and you aren’t. I do what I think means something to the kingdom and if you don’t like it that’s... that’s unfortunate.”
“Then what about Millis? She arranged Hansfeld’s place in the student group. She wanted me out of the way. What are you going to do with her?”
The Duke paused for a minute. “I’ve known for some time that she’s no friend to the Crown. You are right, she won’t be marrying Terrant, but we’ll let her dangle for a while.”
“Then what are you going to with me?”
He shrugged again. “That remains to be seen. Your return may complicate the Millis situation.”
That sentiment was more than Sara could bear. She had turned from a daughter into an unfortunate complication! Her face burned and she began to shake with rage. “Get out of this house!” Sara said. “I don’t know why you would even come to see me.”
“It is my job to know what happened.” He rose from his seat.
“Sit!” Sara said. “I’m not finished.”
“I am.” The Duke left the house, taking the fire weapon.
Sara bit her lip to keep from calling him back. Their relationship had just ended. The Duke never ever really had one with her. She had saved his life, but for what, to give him the opportunity to place her into slavery in Belonnia? Had Linssa known? Sara shook her head in frustration.
She fought off tears as she looked around at the house. She would move out as soon as possible. She ran the conversation over and over in her mind. What else could she have said? If she had thwarted the Duke’s plans, well good. Sara did what she could and that would have to be sufficient enough. All of this for a chance to kill Miller—did she mean so little to him? Evidently so. She had no regrets about her reactions to the perils she had just faced. None.
~~~
Chapter Nineteen
Picking up the Pieces
Hedge showed up on her doorstep in the morning after her sleepless night.
“I am no longer in the employ of the Interior Ministry. I’m also not welcome at the University of Parth or Tarrey College in Obridge,” He said as he walked in with drooping shoulders. “It appears that circumstances beyond my control have thrown me into retirement.”
“I need to talk to you,” Sara said, as she led him into her sitting room. She proceeded to tell him of her adventures in Belonnia. Hedge didn’t say a word until she started her exchange with the Science professors.
“Grappel, eh? A nasty man. He taught a term at the University ten or so years ago.”
“Did you know Linssa Pockmakle?”
Hedge smiled. “I did. She was quite a handsome woman when I knew her. I was a newly-minted professor. Her husband was a junior ambassador. He could have been the Emperor, if Hansfeld hadn’t taken the reins. The Emperor’s old man tired of running the country. Pockmakle is probably in line to take the Emperor’s place.”
“Then Linssa Pockmakle would be the Empress?”
Hedge shook his head. “Not a chance. Even I know she fancied herself as a Parthian agent twenty years ago.”
Sara sat back. “So that’s why she’s under guard?”
“Yes, indeed. I’m sure Pockmakle knew you visited his wife. Probably had her followed everywhere. He’d get rid of her in the beat of a heart, if he had the chance to be Emperor.”
“I didn’t get to the part where Meldey killed the Emperor, did I?”
Hedge went silent. “No. You both killed the Emperor?”
She went on and related her capture and the rest of the story without a mention of her magic before she’d let Hedge say another word.
“Nasty business. I don’t see how the Emperor could arrange for your inclusion in the exchange party.”
Sara asked if Hedge needed some wine. He didn’t refuse. She served them both a goblet and sat down. She took a sip. “He had the help of Millis Shields and the Duke knew about it the entire time.”
“Your own father?”
“It doesn’t matter which one, they’ve both betrayed me.”
Hedge stood up. “He actually admitted it?”
Sara nodded. “He said that he wanted Miller killed, but when he learned that Hansfeld intended to make me his concubine, he mused at how wonderful it would be to have me in the Belonnian Palace. I certainly played the role of a pawn. I can’t see the difference between what he let happen or what the Emperor intended.”
“Neither can I.” Hedge looked around the house. “I can’t move in here, then.”
Sara laughed. Hedge could do that to her. “No and I’ll likely soon be thrown out on my ear as well. The Duke lent the house to me at no cost, but no doubt he has the power to evict. The question is will my stipend still be in effect? Can he stop that?”
“I have no idea. Perhaps we should visit Obed before I can no longer set foot on University or Women’s College soil.”
“I’ll get a message sent off immediately to the Royal Genealogist.” Sara managed a smile.
~
Obed greeted them at the door of the University Library and rushed them through the labyrinthine path to his archives.
“I’m so glad you came. I tried to warn you before the ship sailed, but Renall’s men stopped me. I believe you could still see me waving my hands on the dock.”
Sara nodded and then filled him in. Obed deserved to know her role in the Belonnian Debacle before the Duke presented him with a scrubbed version. Obed even gasped and then laughed at her encounter with Ferdik Heathergate and the Emperor.
Obed leaned back from his pile of notes. “These won’t be seen by human eyes for some time, I suppose. I thank you for your visit. Now, I doubt you came with the sole thought of sharing the story with me.”
“I wanted Meldey’s role clearly documented. She saved me from a life of degradation. I also want someone else to know of Millis Shield’s implication in all of this. She can’t marry King Terrant.”
“Indeed,” Obed said.
Sara patted Obed on his hand. “I’ll want to return to Shattuk Downs. What are my options? What happened to the Goldfields title once Hardwell died? Has the king appointed another Duke? I understood he was the last in the line.”
Obed laughed. “How astute. You are a Countess. When I drafted your appointment, I made sure that Countesses can inherit to solidify your claim on Brightlings and give you the ability to put in a claim on Goldfields. You are
the last Goldagle and the only issue of your mother. The King can’t deny your request for the title, but you will have to request it.”
“Can my father block such a request?”
“Hmmm. The Duke can do many things. I doubt if he will. Renall is a very complex man. Many layers. I think he has so many layers, that he can’t keep them straight. He may now sit regretting his conversation with you, or he may not. I can’t predict what he’ll do, except he always has Terrant’s best interests in mind. He’ll protect the King at any cost. His life is dedicated to that one thing.”
Sara thought back to the man’s relationship with her mother. She now had no idea how to predict the man. Interpretive communications simply didn’t work with Duke Northcross.
Obed interrupted her thoughts. “There’s something here that doesn’t make sense and I’m so frustrated that I can’t put my finger on it. Oh, well. Do you want me to go to the King?”
“Please do. I don’t want to go through the Duke. I’d like to be able to transfer the title of Brightlings, as well.”
I understand. I’ll keep you informed. If Renall kicks you out of your house, you can always hide here.”
Sara shook her head. “No, but thank you. Willa will be joining me.”
“And me and Banna,” Hedge said.
“Banna?”
“I didn’t get around to it. Your story is much more interesting. Banna has been relieved as Dean and another has taken her place and all because of you. To be honest, Banna is relieved.”
“In a term or two, Women’s College politics should be in full swing, then it’s every woman for herself,” Hedge said. “Anyway, I’ve got my wife back and nearly have her convinced to spend the rest of her life writing textbooks on Practical Mathematics.”