Authors: Sheri S. Tepper
“He did send it. My bride-price.”
“I told you he had sent it. Yes, your bride-price, and more than that. It is not lost. The prior is dead, and the treasure is being recovered and sent on to Merhaven. It should be there by the time we are ready to leave.” She burrowed a hand into her pocket and removed the three messages that had been sent to Jenger in the Vulture Tower, the three she had brought back from there and had carried ever since Wordswell had returned them to her. “These are in the handwriting of the Duchess of Altamont, Alicia, daughter of Queen Mirami. The first directs her servant, Jenger, to abduct Xulai. The second directs him to murder you. The third directs him to murder any Tingawan he can get hold of.” She sighed deeply. “It was your abrupt departure after Xulai’s disappearance that led the people of the abbey to suspect you, but let me say again: we do not have time to deal with their accusations now. You must avoid the abbey. They have an army and you cannot fight an army.”
Bear did not speak. The news that Jenger had received orders to kill him coupled with the fact he had been wrong about Justinian had, for the moment, frozen him. When he spoke, it was in a whisper. “Xulai. You found her?”
“I received word from those who found her,” said Precious Wind. “I went to the place where she was held and wept at what I saw there.”
“How did you get these?” he demanded, holding the messages out to her.
“I found them in Jenger’s things at the Vulture Tower,” she replied. “He had been killed, possibly by wolves.” It was certainly possible, though she thought it unlikely. “I would have sent them to our embassy by messenger bird when I arrived in Merhaven.”
“You won’t,” he said.
“Won’t?”
“Arrive in Merhaven. Well, not the old Merhaven. It isn’t there anymore. What’s left of the town has been moved uphill. They aren’t even building permanent piers anymore. They’re building floating ones that can be hauled up the slope as the water rises. Our shipping office there has only the one ship, the
Falsa-xin,
the
Daywind,
and they refused to let me take it. They said only you can take it. Or Xulai.”
“Well, ship or no, my messages must be sent to Tingawa and Merhaven is the only place I can send them from. Meantime, you must find out where Alicia is. If she is at Ghastain, give these messages to our embassy, and they will make appropriate decisions.”
“And if she’s not there?”
“She’ll be at the Old Dark House. You know where it is. How you exact vengeance is your business. Remember how she works. Guard yourself.”
He stood there, very like a bear, standing but weaving slightly, as though he found balancing on his own feet very difficult. She knew he was weighing all that she had told him. If he went back to Tingawa, he could not lie to the Do-Lok family. They had truth tellers among them who could read a lie as another would read words on a page, so he could not claim to have fulfilled his oath if he had not. Standing there, so at a loss, so worried, he seemed to her almost pitiable.
She said softly, “You’ve been in a great turmoil, Bear. It may not be your fault. Alicia may have obtained genetic material from Tingawa, from your betrothed. She may have used this to send a ghost of Legami-am to haunt you, to twist your mind, your nerves . . .”
“All night,” he whispered. “Not so much lately, but before there wasn’t an hour she wasn’t in my head. Whispering. I thought it was her, hating me because I had been so long away. I love her, you know. As Justinian loved his princess, I love her. I am Tingawan, too, Precious Wind. And all the time it was that . . . that foul bitch . . .”
“The duchess hates Tingawans for some reason we know nothing about. We don’t need to understand or explain it, but we do need to repay it in kind.”
He put the messages into his pocket, thrusting them deeply as he sighed, a longing sigh. He said, “I may as well go to the embassy. I’ll find out what’s going on. If I can, I’ll return to Merhaven. It’s still a port. When I was there, I carried a greeting to Genieve from Justinian. He had told me long ago if we ever went there to find her house and to greet her for him. Her house is across the bay, high on the hills, so she has not had to move it. She will no doubt invite you to stay with her while you are there. She invited me, but I was too occupied trying to find a way to get home.”
“Poor Xulai,” murmured Precious Wind.
Bear said, “She was a nice child, but I never understood what all the fuss was about her. Some baby Bright Pearl had. Babies are cute enough, like puppies. As a baby, she was a nice little thing. There at the abbey, though, she was a real . . . well, high and mighty, acting like royalty because she was a Xakixa. Just daring the world to take her for ransom. I suppose something went wrong with the payment for her.”
“Is that what happened? She was taken for ransom? Because she carried Xu-i-lok’s soul?”
He flushed. It was obviously what he had been told. “Why, of course. What else?”
“No, Bear. No ransom was asked. They took Xulai to torture her and kill her.”
His eyes went wildly off to the side. His body went rigid. “That’s . . . crazy.”
“That’s the duchess Alicia. It’s what she does. She cares nothing for souls.”
He turned away, saying at last in a strangled voice, “You know as well as I do the souls come home, eventually. Even if Xulai didn’t get to Tingawa, Xu-i-lok’s soul would get there.”
“And Xulai’s?”
“Hers, too. Eventually.”
“So if there’s no one to carry your soul home, it doesn’t worry you.”
“I’m a warrior, Xu-xin. Many of us don’t have Xakixas. We have a saying. It’s not how we live, it’s how we die that matters.” He laughed harshly.
She nodded. “That must be of comfort to you.” She breathed deeply. “If I am not in Merhaven when you return, I will leave word where you may find me.”
He did not bid her farewell. He got on his horse and rode away north, not looking back. For a moment she had a pang of guilt. She had lied only about Xulai being dead. But she had misled him and . . . and, all too tellingly, when she had done so, he had not grieved for Xulai. She had thought the old Bear would have grieved, and perhaps he would have, for the child, but not for the woman she had become. He had not known, or perhaps had chosen not to know, what her fate was to have been. She feared she had seen the last of him as he rode over a little hill and disappeared. She had hoped for some other memory of him.
From within the edge of the forest, the wolves saw her moving once more. They got to their feet. They would have to hurry to get to their dinner before it was fully dark.
A
t the palace in Ghastain, Mirami’s dinner party had been a success. Rancitor had been there, enchanted by the daughter of a new ambassador to the court. Mirami had reminded him that his freedom from restraint depended upon treating the girl courteously and making no sexual overtures. She also dosed his food with something that would keep him politely calm. King Gahls enjoyed himself. Alicia was there, of course, sweetly gracious, not trying to outshine anyone, no jewels at all, which Mirami thought a little too inconspicuous but generally sensible of her. No point in attracting attention and making other courtiers jealous of oneself. The king admired her. He told Mirami what a lovely young woman she was. Of course, her own daughter, what would he expect?
Actually, Alicia’s campaign to fascinate the king had moved along quite nicely. He had invited her to sit at his side at dinner, Mirami on the right, Alicia on the left. He told her she might use his name, Karios, instead of “Your Majesty.” When Mirami was out of hearing, moving about among her guests, Alicia asked the king if he were not concerned about the kingdom, having only one heir. He had not thought about this. “Well,” she said soothingly, “of course, Mother is really too old now to have other children. We will all pray that Prince Rancitor stays well and healthy and lives to succeed his father only in the great fullness of time.” This left the king feeling vaguely discontented, thinking that Mirami really should have had more children for him.
Several times in the days that followed, they had ridden out to the hunt together, the king and Alicia. Mirami did not care for riding, but Alicia rode very, very well. Her father, Duke Falyrion, had taught her. As they were returning from the hunt one day, the king was told by a messenger that the Tingawan embassy was closing its doors and departing.
When he shouted that they could not do that, there were trade negotiations under way, he was told the emissary would call upon him the following day.
Alicia was with the king when the emissary arrived bearing the three messages sent by Alicia to the Vulture Tower.
“These were received by the abbot of Wilderbrook Abbey. It was thought proper that you know of them . . . if you do not already know of them.”
The emissary put the messages in the king’s hands and bowed very slightly, the bow known in Tingawa as “the bow deprecatory,” recognizing the king’s position while expressing that the man who held it was dishonored; he turned on his heel and left, showing the king his back.
The king didn’t recognize the subtlety of the bow but understood a turned back when he saw it. When he unrolled the messages, he shook his head in confusion and thrust them at Alicia. “Where did these come from?” he demanded. “How do I find out where these came from?”
Alicia, taken by surprise and herself furiously angry, made herself concentrate as she stared wide-eyed at the all-too-familiar writing. “That’s mother’s writing,” she said firmly. The writing was indeed very like her mother’s writing. Mirami had taught her to write, after all.
“What should I do?” gasped the king. “If this is known . . . There are people here from Wellsport who have invested heavily in the sea trade. We have been negotiating to resume that trade. The Tingawans can obtain the permission of the Sea King; we can’t. If the Tingawans refuse to deal with us . . .”
“I have no idea why she would have done this,” said Alicia. “It is ridiculous. But you must tell the embassy you have affirmed that Mirami did kill the princess Xu-i-lok, and you must tell them that you will take care of the matter yourself.”
“But she could not . . .”
“I know, I know, dear Karios, but you must save yourself! You’ll have to tell them she did it, then seem to get rid of her so the emissary may convey to the family Do-Lok that suitable vengeance has been taken. They must think that she is dead.”
“What may I do? Shall I have her killed? The scandal would . . . my heir!”
She fastened on that idea. “A scandal might affect Rancitor’s position as your heir,” she agreed. “We must avoid that. Tell the Tingawan people that. Tell them you must manage it without throwing doubt on Rancitor’s inheritance. Tell them you will lock her up while deciding what must be done. As for her, tell her to be calm, that we’re working it all out. I need to consult with people I know, to decide what is best. And forgive me, dearest Karios, if I leave you for a few days. I must be gone before you lock her away, understand? I must not be here while she is still here . . . you do understand? It cannot be said that I attempted to influence you. We must think of my dear brother, your son, your heir! We must think of Rancitor!”
He thought he understood. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he did. Alicia would protect Rancitor. Alicia would somehow deal with Mirami. He had depended on Mirami to deal with things for such a long time. Would her daughter take Mirami’s place? Oh, that would be very good. He would like that.
The little capsule Alicia had prepared for Mirami was in Alicia’s suite, in her jewelry box, down at the bottom wrapped in a silk handkerchief. She had her servants ready her horse and arrange her escort. Just before leaving, she went to bid her mother a fond, temporary farewell.
“There’s been some news of Justinian. I’m going home by the quickest route. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Outside her mother’s door, she dropped the capsule out of the fluttering, distracting handkerchief and stepped on it firmly without anyone seeing it. She almost regretted doing it! Now all of the little clouds she had made were gone. Well, someone else would no doubt need putting away. She wondered who it would be as she ran down the marble stairs to mount her horse and ride away.
B
ear had stayed in Ghastain after delivering the messages to the embassy, spending most of his time watching the castle. He had wagered with himself whether the king would have Alicia killed publicly or privately, and he was astonished to see her riding out with a group of archers. He followed them to the southern cut in the highland cliffs, where the road went down into the valley toward Benjobz. She had either escaped or blamed it on someone else, he thought, shaking his head in something almost like admiration before following at a discreet distance. He never went anywhere without saddlebags packed; he was quite ready to take to the road. The emissary had mentioned receiving messages from the abbot that referred to the Old Dark House, to the Vulture Tower, to the plot against Xulai. The messages Bear had brought piled proof upon the abbot’s allegations. Bear had been pleasantly surprised when he learned that his own name had not been mentioned except as a victim! He was not implicated by anything written from the Old Dark House, the tower, or the abbey. He was free to act. He saw it all very clearly. His duty was plain. The Old Dark House was where the evil had begun and thrived. He would follow the duchess to her lair and put an end to it. Then he would meet Precious Wind in Merhaven. They could all go home.