Chapter 14
Fourteen
“Now, let us talk plainly,” King Arik said.
I stood before the king’s worktable in his personal quarters the morning after Fell Sulertag had been named Norser on my behalf.
I hadn’t seen Fell since he’d left the evening before.
And despite my repeated invitation for her to stay, Dania had gone home to her children with a vague promise to return soon and the warning that the sea dogs did not use chamber pots in the way the Islish did, so I must make my way outside should the need strike.
The king had summoned me in the morning himself, guiding me to the room he wished to meet in. He offered me steamed seagull eggs which I looked at in horror before he pulled the plate away and strolled around the table, turning his sword-sharp gaze on me.
“It is of great importance to me that you feel you are well-treated here. You are the child of one of my enemies. You are nearly paired with the child of another of my enemies. How you are treated in my court will teach them more about me than any skirmish or raid.”
The table was carved from driftwood and polished to the pristine white of sea foam.
It was the length of a large man and taller than most tables as King Arik liked to stand while he worked.
Stacks of parchment, maps, paintings, and trinkets littered the surface, and though I first understood this as disorder, I would come to learn that everything was intricately placed.
My hands were behind my back, my posture rigid, my mind pulling away from my surface as it always did when I was given instruction. At the time, I thought nothing of this. Now, I ponder it a great deal—the quieting of the self.
I took a breath. “I have been well-treated already. You saw to my recovery.”
“I said we were to speak plainly.”
My skin flushed in hurried terror. You did see to my recovery, I thought. I have not lied. Then I rearranged my feeling.
King Arik’s head was cocked to the side, his were eyes narrowed and as sharp as ever.
He wasn’t smiling with his mouth, but some other unseen part of him was smiling.
“I will teach you a word. It is one I am certain you have little experience with, but it will be of great service to you in my court. Njen. Can you remember this?”
I nodded.
“Let me hear it.”
“Nuh-yin.”
“Good. This means no. When someone does something you don’t want them to—when it pertains to you, of course, not when they are only influencing themselves—you say this. They will listen. You are soten. They must listen. Let me hear you say it again.”
“Nuh-yin.”
“Njen.”
“Nyuh-in.”
“Njen.”
“Nyehn.”
“Good.”
His stare was as forceful as a storm, eyes gleaming like candles on the darkest of nights.
“I have heard a little of goldkeepers, so I am expecting you will be concerned about what you were carrying with you at the time of your… mistaken liberation. I give you my promise again that no one will touch it, but I know this is likely not enough. You do not know me. You have very little reason to trust me. You have not yet seen how true to me my raiders are. So, I have devised an arrangement.”
He reached into the pocket of his linen trousers, retrieving a clamouring bundle of metal which he tossed onto the table between us. A series of rings, each holding a cluster of keys.
“These are my personal keys,” he said. “Some have twins. You will see there is a bronze ring—many in my court have twins of the keys on that ring. Guards. Lovers of guards. The additional lovers of the lovers of guards. Now the silver ring—the keys on this one are rarer. Only a few twins exist. Jorn has some. A select few captains. Fell would if he had any interest… But the gold… those are keys that there is only one of. I leave them in your possession until such a time comes that you have found a suitable place to keep your gold. You may remove whichever you like and keep them for the duration of your stay. I trust you will not lose them.”
I looked up at him again. How quickly my intentions morphed when gold was spoken of. I had been determined only a moment ago to please him, but when given the chance to keep gold better, I suddenly couldn’t think of him at all.
“You should, with little difficulty, be able to match keys to doors and chests—many are made from the same metal as their lock pair, but I ask that this one here—” He reached across the table, and his thick, calloused fingers crawled through the keys, until they were holding the smallest key on the gold ring.
“I would ask you not to go into the room that this key opens.”
Obedience was my nature at the time. I nodded.
“May I make requests for materials?” I said.
“Of course.”
Amber. It was a rare stone, but surely a king could find some.
Copper thread. A gilded chest. I didn’t ask for what I needed.
His eyes were too sharp. He might figure some of my order’s secrets.
I would need to procure these items less directly and not at the same time.
And if there weren’t storms here like on the Isle, it wouldn’t much matter.
There would be no lightning to catch. I thought of keeping the gold for a fortnight or two, of arriving at Loric’s home with every piece accounted for, of the song that would be sung about us, about the goldkeeper who guarded calmly despite being surrounded by fearsome sea dogs.
But then my mind turned to the questioning that would come upon my return, the confessions that were already overdue.
How many sea dogs had touched my sleeves?
How many bare chests had I witnessed? How many incantations had I been in the presence of?
Two chests of gold had been left in the cart upon my capture…
But those contained my gold. I haven’t lost anyone else’s.
The king was still studying me, so I stopped thinking of my plans, worried in a childish way he could sense them just by watching.
He said, “You will likely have questions regularly. I will put aside the first hour of my morning for you each day, for questions and conversation. I will then provide any teachers you are interested in—you played your instrument well last evening. I expect you would like to continue your practise while you are a guest in the floating palace?”
Yes, I wished silently. More than anything.
If I had been free to set my days as I wanted, I would have played music from sunrise until well after dark, until my fingers were hot and numb.
It was something I was only allotted a small portion of time for, and even then, my mother sometimes forbade it as a form of punishment for me, knowing how I loved it.
She maybe did not even want me to play in the first place.
It had been my father’s suggestion, as when I was a child, I was continuously in trouble for touching things I ought not touch: stained glass, the hem of a skirt, tapestries—pretty things called to me and I was prone to answering.
My mother had ranted to my father about it one too many times, and he’d said, “Perhaps we simply need to give her hands something else to do.” I think he meant only to have my mother cease her complaints, but it was a great service he had done me. Maybe the greatest thing he did for me.
I nodded, barely breathing with yearning. I shall keep gold and play the lyre, and all will be well.
“Your friend there, from last night, has likely already explained that Fell was named your guardian. In your case, this is more ceremonial than anything. All the same, you are… forsworn, you could say—forsworn to him. He has left Aalt. He may be back soon; he might not be—he is not a consistent man. I expect he has gone to his witch doctor. He mentioned fetching her for you while you fevered. I have given him my word no harm will come to you in his absence.”
“Fell…” I had many questions about the man, but none I could word.
King Arik’s gaze hardened. “In the north, we say our thoughts out loud. Speak your mind.”
“I… I suppose I don’t understand… is he a good subject of yours? Is he favoured by you?”
“Ha! Ask me on ten different days, and you will get ten different answers. Fell is Fell.” And then he must have sensed how confused I was, how afraid of falling outside prescription.
His features softened. “There would be no one better to act Norser for you than him. He would let no misfortune happen, nor would he request you do something you did not wish to do.”
I had no sense of whether I could trust the man’s words.
“Gentlewoman, I will tell you a secret, but you must not repeat it. And in return, you will tell me a secret. Fair?”
He didn’t wait for me to answer. He said, “Fell is my favourite of all of them, my favourite in this kingdom and all the ones beyond.”
He spoke with such conviction that I was soothed a little. I remembered again the cold blue of Fell’s eyes on the boat, the way he spoke to me with his gaze alone.
“Your turn, Gentlewoman. I shall not tell the next words you speak to anyone. This will help us build trust with one another, which will make your stay more pleasant, no?”
And here, I have a chance to lie to you.
I could say I told him nothing or that I gave a foolish secret up, but this is not the truth.
I had an opportunity to speak outside prescription, and I took it.
I said, “Sometimes I remember my dreams.” It was from so deep within me that my throat felt swollen by the words.
The heat of tears warmed my eyelids, but I blinked them back.
He smiled knowingly. “I look forward to more conversations with you. I should also warn you that later this evening will be an odd sight for you—the Norsern treat with the shy moon tonight. I will be sure to have a meal left out for you before I join them.”
I couldn’t imagine what would be considered an odd sight to King Arik.
The sea dogs had been running around the palace, shrieking and giggling well into the middle hours of the night, making sleep near impossible for me.
I’d also needed to relieve myself but had been afraid to leave my room in darkness and stumble upon whatever wild things they were doing so late at night, so my own body had kept me awake.
“Now, I have tasks to see to. Take your keys. Explore. Find somewhere to rest your gold that allows you a quiet mind.”
I picked up those cursed keys and held them in my hands having no sense of the terror they would cause me.
The freedom.
The suffering.
The power.