Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
AUDREY
I agree with your sentiment, of course. It wouldn't do for the power to fall into the wrong hands. Or the information. —First Guidelord, Luis in a letter to High Magelord, Bearer of All, Gautier the First
La’Angi Keep
I didn’t rush through the morning routine.
If anything, I spent more time than usual drawing it out.
Mayhap it was the equinox that had me feeling balanced.
Isolde went to fetch breakfast while I stayed, picking up the practice sword that waited, wrapped, against the wall.
It had been more than a moon since I’d touched it and the balance was a little strange.
I’d had breaks from archery, from riding, and from the knives often enough.
I knew it wouldn’t take me long to limber up those skills again.
I’d gone to his bed the night I’d sent him away. It had been so empty. I could take my time. I could mourn. I’d breathed him in and I’d let him go.
During the plague, I’d cut the throat of the last Captain of the Guard. I’d held his head as his lifeblood had pumped across the cobbles, running between the blue stones to mix with the mud and straw. He’d twitched and moved even after that lethal stroke.
That was me, now. Twitching, moving. Blood still pumping. Except it wasn’t those hard, arcing spurts any longer. I was going cold.
I hoped he’d forgive me for that.
I wondered whether that need to be forgiven was a scar my father had left on my soul.
“My lady!”
I fought the urge to drop the sword as the unfamiliar voice jarred me from my reverie. “I’ll be down in a moment,” I shouted, quickly wrapping the sword and putting it away.
“Yes, my lady!”
The call had come from the bottom level of the tower, so I was safe to get to where my clothes for the day were tossed over the back of my chair. I threw on a layer of respectability before going downstairs, hoping nothing had gone terribly awry. I was probably due for a crisis.
The guards were familiar, but not Thomas or Chay. They stood together awkwardly, unsure of the processes. “You’ve a visitor, my lady,” the older one said. “We should wait here, correct?”
“Usually, one person informs me, and the other keeps an eye on the visitor,” I explained, wondering if I should’ve finished lacing my dress. They wouldn’t be able to see from the front, and with my hair down, but… “Who is it?”
“Uh.” They glanced at each other. The younger one opened the door, and asked, “Name and business?”
I could see my guest through the stone archway, a bag on one shoulder, and hip cocked. My breath caught at the sight of that plain brown cloth and the way their hand was spread across it possessively.
“Got bad news,” the Captain said, walking in with a swagger that made me envy their snug pants and the belt that rode low, heavy with weapons.
“Your villages are almost empty. People have banded together, but you’re going to want to have a look at that pretty soon, princess. A group is as good as its leader.”
I nodded, braced for the news after the reports we’d had. La’Angi had got off lightly compared to a few spots to the south. When there had been silence from the seaside villages, I’d feared the worst.
“Got good news, too.” They set the bag down with a solid thud, and grinned.
“I could be extra generous with those folks who were still alive. Figured you’d be happy with me throwing some kids a bit of extra salted pork and silverbeet.
Took a bit of extra time to deal with ’em. They’re not used to trading.”
“Kids?” I tore my eyes away from the bag. “There are children?”
“Some. A group of them to the west, squatting in one of the villages. Looks to me like they found each other. And dodged some problems in doing so, though they won’t be safe forever.”
I reached for a map. “Show me the location, please.”
They reached out their hand, revealing short nails and a fat golden ring with a siren that arched over their knuckles. I tore my eyes away from the hungry curve of her back and followed Elnyta’s fingertip to a dip in the shoreline on the map what looked like at least a few days’ hard ride away.
I made note of the location carefully. “How long would it take you to get back there?” I asked them.
“Four to six days, depending on the wind.”
I looked at the distance, the terrain, but it was to the west. I knew the east of my province like the back of my hand, every road and hidey-hole mapped out for the escape I’d never need.
If Chay was there, I’d send him. Bliksem would make that journey effortlessly. He’d defend children.
The thought made the old horror claw its way up my throat, but at least I wasn’t stuck sighing over the knight.
Thomas I’d trust with children too, of course, and Kaelson. The only other person on my very short list was Isolde.
She was an excellent rider, could travel light, and was highly resourceful.
“Can I let you know in a few hours if that’s needed?” I asked. She’d want to review the maps. I could find something with greater detail of the area, one I could mark up for her. Or whomever I sent.
“We’re stuck until the tide turns,” they told me. “After moonrise tonight. And if it isn’t clear, tomorrow morning. So take your time.” They patted the brown bag. “I thought you’d be glad to see this.”
“I am.” It was half the size of our bags, but I didn’t comment on that. There was time later to split hairs. “I am,” I repeated, slowing down, meeting their eyes. “Very much so. Thanking you, Captain.”
“You’re well come, princess,” they said. There was a sparkle in their eye. “You ought to come down to the docks, do a tour of the Ally, let me show you on my map where these children are.”
Their maps were possibly more detailed than mine, at least along the coastline. “I’ll certainly be down later to ask for your assistance, if that’s a possibility.”
“All things are possible with me, m’lady,” they told me, the words low and full of promise. “I’ll let the crew know to keep a weather eye for you, then.”
“Thanking you.” I tried to gather my thoughts, but they kept slipping away. I moved forward to shake their hand and bumped the desk. The grains shifted in the bag and it slid drunkenly to the side. “What do I owe you for the wheat? Or—millet? Barley?”
“You wanted wheat, princess. I got you wheat.” They gave me a nod, a smile tugging at their mouth. “This time, you can call it a gift.”
There was no way I wouldn’t embarrass myself if I ended up on their ship. I didn’t know what a captain’s quarters might look like, but the temptation to find out was huge. And I wouldn’t be looking for the horizon or a slice of pie there.
Elnyta left. I should’ve been worrying about my utter lack of progress with the sword, the march of time that brought my father ever closer, or the hundreds of little tasks required for the day to day running of the city.
Instead, I wondered about the siren ring that arched over their fingers and what a tour of their ship would entail.
Isolde walked in, basket on her arm. Her brisk step let me know she was aware of who’d been and gone.
“I have wheat,” I told her. “And a village of children.”
“A village of children.” She set the basket down and started laying out breakfast. “That’s a new one.”
“How do you feel about going and rescuing them?”
She shot me a look. “Me? That’s a hero’s quest. I’m just the maid.” She didn’t see the unimpressed look I leveled at her. “Send a group from the watch, and a few women too.”
“I can’t trust them.”
“Well, that’s sad, because they’re your watch, in charge of your city.” She ripped into some bread. “If you’re trying to get rid of me so you can try your hand at seducing a pirate, I think you’ll find it’s not so complex a task. I’ll make myself scarce tonight.”
“Isolde, there’s a group of children in a village, avoiding adults.”
She shrugged. “I’m sure. Orphans are a renewable resource. My place is with you.”
She hadn’t just said that. I shook my head. “Isolde—”
“No.” She straightened, sweeping past me and heading up the stairs. For the first time since the conversation began, I saw how fixed her expression was.
Silence descended in her wake. I stared down at the hearty breakfast, lost.