Fool's Errand (10 page)

Then she realized who the caller was.

“What is this?” demanded the king as he eyed the dozen mounted New Man soldiers with whom the Regent had arrived.

Mateo visibly trembled at the sight of the monster who'd imprisoned him.

“It is nothing of import, Majesty,” called Mordecai with a cold look at the boy and an appraising look at the “leper” to whom he clung. “I only wondered if I might have a moment alone with the Princess.”

Though Persephone could not imagine anything she wanted
less
than a moment alone with the Regent, she dared not deny him, and so she forced herself to cast a beseeching look at Finn. When he reluctantly nodded, she urged Fleet forward. “What do you want?” she hissed at Mordecai, as soon as they were out of earshot of the king.

“I promised that before the great gates of Parthania closed behind you, I would give you a parting gift that would inspire you beyond your wildest imagination,” he reminded.

“I had forgotten,” said Persephone, hoping to give offence.

“No matter,” said the Regent magnanimously. “You shall have your gift anyway. The idea for it came to me after we struck our bargain. It occurred to me that there was nothing to prevent you and the cockroach from wandering the realm indefinitely—always searching for the healing pool and conveniently never finding it. Feeling that this was not in keeping with the spirit of our agreement, I decided to provide you with an incentive to ensure that you promptly deliver what you have promised.”

From his pannier, Mordecai removed a red glass jar stoppered with a cork. Carefully, he handed it to Persephone.

“This jar contains exactly one hundred of the white beans with which the king so enjoys gambling when he plays peasant games of chance with his insufferable nursemaid,” he explained, wincing slightly as the horse beneath him moved unexpectedly. “Starting tomorrow, each day you will remove a single bean from the jar.”

“And why will I do that?” asked Persephone, trying to sound haughty in spite of the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“To keep track of time,” replied the Regent in a jolly voice. “Because you see, Princess, the day the last bean is removed from the jar, if you have not returned to Parthania with proof that the healing Pool of Genezing exists, your brother, the king, will die.”

NINE

B
EFORE PERSEPHONE COULD SAY ANYTHING
in response to this new and terrible threat, Mordecai reined his horse around and cantered away, the hunched stiffness of his posture a testament to the pain caused him by the horse's bouncing gait. As the black-clad soldiers with whom he'd arrived clattered after him and the lowborns in their path scrambled to get out of the way, Azriel urged his horse close Persephone's right side, and the king urged his horse close to her left.

“What did he want?” asked the king.

“Merely to wish me godspeed on my journey,” replied Persephone as she surreptitiously slipped the jar of beans into the pack hanging over Fleet's bony right hip.

Azriel glanced in the direction of the disappearing jar but said nothing.

The king stared after the departing Regent. “When he asked me the reason for your hasty departure from the imperial capital, I told him the truth. He did not laugh in my face, but I could tell from his demeanour that he thought me a fool.”

“I'm sorry, Your Majesty—” began Persephone.

“I'm not,” coughed Finn. “I no longer care what Mordecai thinks about me or anything else. When I was a child, I saw only the side of him that he wished me to see, and those around me sheltered me from the truth about him. Perhaps they did so because they knew I hadn't the power to stop him from doing what he pleased; perhaps they did so out of fear of retribution. Whatever the reason, I am a child no longer, and henceforth I mean to make it my business to see
everything
for what it really is—and to see to the welfare of all people.”

“Does that include the people who are not your people, Your Majesty?” asked Azriel, leaning forward so that he could see Finn on the other side of Persephone. “Does it include
my
people—and those who belong to the other three tribes of Glyndoria?”

“Yes,”
said the king vehemently. “I know I have much to answer for in regards to how the tribes of this realm have been treated by those who came before me, and I
will
answer for it. Though I cannot change the past, I shall do what I can to right past wrongs in the hope that, someday, old wounds may be healed, and
all
people of this realm will be united in peace.”

Azriel said nothing in response to this, only sat back in his saddle with a pensive expression on his face.

“Oh, Finn!” exclaimed Persephone who could not resist leaning over to fling her arms about him, “you're going to be
such
a good ruler!”

At the sight of this impromptu public display of affection between their shining young monarch and his beautiful, long-lost twin, the crowd cheered unrestrainedly. Glancing over his shoulder to investigate the cause of the outburst, Fleet was plainly shocked and dismayed to see his beloved Persephone exhibiting tenderness toward a creature other than himself. With an irate squeal, he lurched sideways away from the king's big hunter so suddenly that Persephone found herself embracing nothing but air. Dangerously off balance, she was half a heartbeat from tumbling headfirst onto the cobblestone road when Azriel leaned over, grabbed her around the waist and hauled her upright again.

“Take good care of my sister, Azriel,” said Finn, who was unable to resist glancing at Azriel's hand, which yet lingered about Persephone's waist—and which was clearly the cause of the sudden flush upon her cheeks. “Find the Pool of Genezing and, though you've not asked for it, I give you my word that I shall see to your people's protection should they ever choose to come out of hiding and settle by the pool as their ancestors of legend once did.”

At these words, the pensive expression on Azriel's face deepened. Inclining his head toward the king in acknowledgment of both his request and his promise, he slipped his hand from Persephone's waist and motioned to Rachel and the others that it was time to go. Without thinking, Persephone twisted around in her saddle so that she could smile and wave to the humble people of Parthania one last time. Finn smiled at her as the crowd sent up a final heartfelt cry of affection, and she smiled back at him. Then, turning forward in her saddle once more, she led her travelling companions through the city gates, beyond the safety of the impenetrable city walls and out into the oft-times treacherous Glyndorian countryside.

Half an hour later, a small group of riders joined the bustling throngs who'd begun passing back and forth through the city gates intent upon the business of the new workday.

Half an hour after this, a nondescript figure cloaked in meanest homespun slipped through the gates after them.

TEN

One hundred white beans in the jar

I
NITIALLY, THE DIRT ROAD
leading away from Parthania was two wagon widths wide. It rapidly narrowed, however, until at length it was wide enough for only two to ride abreast comfortably. At that point, Rachel cheerfully offered to rein in the horse that she and Mateo shared so that Persephone and Azriel might ride together at the head of the cavalcade.

As soon as Rachel's horse had fallen back, Persephone—who'd not wanted to further frighten Mateo by mentioning the Regent in front of him—showed Azriel the glass jar and explained its purpose.

“The Regent said he will kill the king if we do not return with proof that we've found the healing pool by the time we run out of beans!” she burst. Reaching out, she clutched the sleeve of Azriel's red velvet doublet and said, “You must tell me true—is there any hope at all that we will succeed? Because if there isn't, we ought to turn back at once!”

“And do what?” asked Azriel, glancing down at her small, clutching hand in a way that made Persephone flush with embarrassment and abruptly release her hold on him. “You told me that death awaits the king behind every wall,” he continued. “Moreover, the Regent has a sizable army of New Men loyal to him alone. We haven't anywhere near the strength to oppose him, Persephone. To return as his enemies now would be to see the king cut down and us with him. That would leave the throne vacant—”

“And plunge the kingdom into civil war,” she said as she stubbornly promised herself that she'd never,
ever
reach for Azriel again. “I know all that. I just … I hate the thought that I left without warning Finn that he is under a death sentence!”

“Your brother is no fool, Princess,” said Azriel. “I am quite sure that he knows the Regent will attempt to hold onto power and that anyone who stands in his way will be at risk. Why else do you think he granted you permission to go traipsing around the realm in the company of a rogue such as myself?”

“Well … well, because I insisted,” said Persephone, surprised by the question.

“While no one knows better than I just how infernally persistent you can be when you want something,” said Azriel with a smile that made her want to break her promise of a moment earlier, “I would suggest that King Finnius may also have sought to get you away from Parthania until he could be sure that it was safe for you to return.”

Persephone looked toward the horizon as she silently considered the fact that she may have underestimated her brother. Then she looked over at Azriel and said, “Even if you are right—even if Finn truly understands that he is in danger—it does not change the fact that one hundred days is not a lot of time to find something that may not exist.”

“The pool does exist, and we do not need
a lot
of time,” replied Azriel, reaching over to gently brush a few strands of hair from her face. “We only need
enough
time. And if the Fates are willing—and I am coming to believe that they are—we shall have it.”

Despite the need for urgency, they were forced to travel at an almost leisurely pace because the escort included women and children who needed to ride slowly and rest often. The path they followed was a familiar one, for they were retracing the route they'd taken a week earlier when they'd journeyed to the imperial capital from the Gypsy camp in the north. Though Persephone was not especially looking forward to returning to the tribe who'd thought nothing of endangering her life once before, she'd agreed with Azriel and Rachel that the camp must be the first stop on the quest. There, they'd be able to reunite Mateo with his brother, collect provisions, review what was known—or
thought
to be known—about old Balthazar's discovery of the healing pool and solicit suggestions as to how they ought to go about finding it.

“And what if your tribesmen do not think we should go about finding it?” asked Persephone with an impatient glance over her shoulder at the members of the unwieldy escort, many of whom were smiling and chatting away as though they were on some kind of pleasure outing. “What if they think that fulfilling the prophecy of the Gypsy King is more important than finding the healing pool?”