Chapter 40 #2
“It must be strange to see so much of the country after being confined to only a small part of it,” Quinn moved on.
“It’s even stranger to be told I’m partly in charge of it,” I replied. “And it never feels like I get to just sit still and drink it all in. I could have spent months in Pontarena or Sunhill, or even Caermont.”
“One day soon, you’ll be able to take your time.” He said it like he was certain. I actually believed him. “And by then—easy, Niro—you’ll have enough knowledge of the country that you’ll know where you actually want to go.”
I smiled. Ahead of us, rocky formations stuck up from the earth like tousled hair. Niro’s ears pinned back and his head tossed once. That uneasy feeling intensified in my skull, increasingly difficult to disregard. “Where would you be, if you could go anywhere?”
“Ha! I haven’t had much choice in the matter for some time.” He considered it, though, and his hands tightened on the reins before he moved a fraction closer to me. “I’d like to go home. To Navarro. But I’m not exactly miserable. I’d say I’m very happy where I am right now.”
I swallowed. “Nearly dying certainly made you into quite the insatiable—”
My hands stopped at my breast. The wind shifted, carrying something unpleasantly familiar in the air. Niro fought the reins as we rounded the jagged stones, but momentum carried us forward before Quinn could turn him…and that smell became a wall.
Quinn stiffened behind me, his right arm banding across my waist to steer us hard left.
“Don’t look,” he urged sharply, but it was too late.
I’d already seen the churned earth, the birds circling…
and I couldn’t pry my eyes away from it.
Below us, in a natural well between the stones, lay dozens of bodies.
They must have been arranged in rows, at first, but later, more recent additions were scattered, as if those tasked with the burial had lost heart.
Every one of them was hollow in the ribs, their limbs no thicker than kindling twigs. There were smaller forms among the rest of them, clothing loose on frames that had long-since consumed themselves from within.
My vision blurred. All of these people had starved; they were discarded out-of-sight from the road and far enough from any town to prevent sickness from taking root.
“Take the reins.” Quinn’s voice was a command, and I followed it without thinking twice. Niro continued to walk away, but the sight was burned into my mind.
Then he brought his arm up, placing his hand over my eyes so that there was only darkness. The smell of him wasn’t enough to break away from that cloying stench behind us, but it did stabilize me enough that I could process what I was thinking.
Every one of those people were my people now, forgotten while those in charge gallivanted about the countryside.
Fuck Adelaide. Fuck appearances. Fuck—
Quinn’s forehead pressed into the nape of my neck, and my thoughts went quiet.
“I know,” he murmured against me. “I know what you’re thinking. You want to turn back and conclude the tour.”
I nodded, and his hand slipped free from my eyes, securing itself around my waist.
“You need to see your country. Every festering wound, every starving child, every corner of the map where people are suffering.
There are many people still breathing out there who need to know that they are seen.
Remember what you're feeling now, Alana, and use it to do good. Use this tour not to perform, but to gather intelligence about the world beyond the castle, the forest, and yourself.”
His hand opened. Every finger connected to my stomach, where life bloomed within.
“And I’ll be right here with you. It’s where I want to be.”
We returned to the road and found the others in a commotion. Nicolas was at the head of it, surrounded by guards as a roughhewn woman stood in front of him. Beside her was a little boy with wild, unkempt hair and a dirty complexion; neither one of them had washed in some time.
I climbed down from Niro and approached, and Quinn was swift to accompany me. We caught the tail end of the argument, though the woman’s accent was so thick and her voice so weak, I struggled to understand a word of it.
I rushed over to Nicolas, furrowing my brow, and signed quickly. “What’s going on?”
“This woman wants to sell us her son.” Nicolas frowned. “For a single loaf of bread.”
The stranger turned to me, desperation written in every premature wrinkle of her face. “I cannot watch him starve anymore.” She broke off, pushing her son forward. “You'd feed him, wouldn't you? Please?”
I looked at her skeletal hands and sharply turned to my husband. “Nicolas.”
“Godsdammit, we cannot save every child in Antier.”
“No, but we can save this one.”
Every member of the procession was watching. I saw my parents among the crowd and waved them nearer. When Mother was close enough, I pulled her sleeve and whispered in her ear.
“The boy is hungry. See that he’s fed.”
“Lady Alana!” came another voice, and Lady Maeve came rushing over. Her cheeks flushed. “I—I mean, Queen Alana…my husband and I did not finish our meal. We can spare the woman some cheese and fruit.”
Her pale blue eyes met the desperate mother’s, and she bowed. Nicolas was absolutely horrified. “I’m sorry, what? Feeding them, I understand, but we’re taking in the child?”
“I will take him under my wing, King Nicolas,” Lady Maeve interjected, beholding the child with distanced affection. She crouched. “Are you hungry, small one? We’ve just come from Sunhill and have lots of food. Would you like an apple?”
The child looked to his mother. His frailty made it impossible to discern his age; he could have been anywhere from two to four. His voice was absent as he moved his mouth and clung to his mother’s skirts.
Quinn drew between us, facing the mother. “Are you sure about this, ma’am? We can send you home with food.”
“Quinn—” Nicolas started, but went ignored. Adelaide was making her way nearer, too.
“I’ve nine sons and daughters, two grown and one no older than a babe,” the woman said slowly, trying to match our dialect as well as she could. “Three more are at home. His sister is weaker each day. I’ve lost two to hunger already.”
“All right,” Quinn said, and he took out his coin purse and placed it right into her hand. “Then this is yours. As is the food.”
“Quinn Navarro!” shouted Adelaide, drawing nearer. The viscount smiled, not an inch of regret for his actions. Behind him, the woman marveled at the weight of the stags.
“You know, Lady Maeve lost a child,” Quinn said to the former queen, his eyes narrowing. “This provides a fair exchange.”
“And what will we do for the next starving child?” Adelaide asked. Already, food was being brought to the mother, and she broke into dry, hysterical sobs. Her son looked on, confused by the whole ordeal. “The money you just gave away could have purchased wheat for a hold.”
“A hold isn’t standing before me begging for the lives of its children.
As far as next time goes, I don’t know what we shall do, but I shall always give them what I can,” Quinn answered firmly.
“I don’t see myself having kids of my own.
Perhaps I, too, should consider adopting. Maybe I’ll take in a hundred children.”
Nicolas drew closer to his friend. His brow furrowed with confused anger, like he’d been left behind somewhere in the conversation. “What are you thinking, Quinn?”
Quinn exhaled through his nostrils, folding his hand behind his back. “I could ask the same of you, Your Majesty.”
A statement devoid of deference. I drew a shallow breath, watching Nicolas’ jaw as it worked.
Then, the mother spoke up once more, bowing as she did. “I… I cannot thank you enough for your kindness. But let me impart you with this: don’t go to Molehill. It is lost. You must ride straight to Greene and take no more breaks.”
I brought up my hands. Lady Maeve translated: “What do you mean by lost?”
“The few who remain are opportunists,” the mother replied. She nudged her son toward us, and he looked at her with round, wide eyes. He shook his head, and she whispered something under her breath to soothe him, dropping to her knees. “It’s all right, little one. Do you remember honey and jam?”
The boy only stared.
“Well, they’ve got it,” she promised, and baskets of food arrived for her from Lord Halston.
“They’ve got lots of good foods to fill your belly.
You’ll be smart, and strong, and you’ll have great adventures.
When we meet again someday, you’ll have slain dragons and trolls, and you’ll be wearing armor of pure gold. And you’ll be so loved, all the way.”
Lady Maeve touched the boy’s shoulder, and too easily, he slipped away from his mother, ever enticed by the precious offerings.
I watched him go into the crowd, hardly minding the tension between the Callans and the viscount.
The mother took out a loaf of bread and looked at the shadow of her child, and then she let him go.