"Know it? In Bressel, I am its champion! I'm an avid collector of norren line paintings. My favorites originate from the Broken Heron Clan."
Raxa nodded as if she knew who that was. "I'm less than an expert myself. But my husband seized on the bossen trade. Started selling it across every corner of Gask. He did well. Well enough to get ambitious. Last year, he brought a caravan of norren goods to the Collen Basin."
Maura wrinkled her nose. "Why would an upstanding and well-blooded Gaskan want to do business with the Collen Basin? They care for nothing but spears and hoes."
"In Gask, competition is fierce. Others had already established markets in Mallon. My husband thought that if he was the first to open up the Collen Basin, he'd make all three of his brothers envious of his wealth."
"Spiting one's family is such wonderful motivation."
"When he first got to Collen, he sent me letters weekly. Three months ago, the letters stopped. I waited as long as I could. And then I came to find him."
"What? All by yourself?"
"I brought ten men-at-arms," Raxa said. "Along with two of my husband's men who knew the way to Collen. Bandits ambushed us in the woods north of Bressel. Killed everyone."
"Outrageous. Outrageous. Did they really think the woods' cover would hide them from the gods? How did you come to elude them?"
"When it was clear we couldn't win, one of my guards grabbed me. He tried to sell me to the bandits. I had to…" She looked down, biting her lip. "To stab him. I ran then. Hid in a stream while the bandits hunted for me, shouting what they'd do to me. It was so cold. I think I fell asleep for a while. When I came to, I went back to the site, but all my guards were dead. They'd taken everything but a few clothes." She gestured at herself, smiling wryly. "This was the best I could do."
"And then? You came to the city with nothing?"
"I didn't know what else I could do. Last night, I was trying to find someone to take me to Collen when I was robbed. If the town watch hadn't saved me, the thieves would have killed me in the street."
Maura regarded her for several seconds. Raxa had the idea it was the longest the woman had gone without talking in some time.
"Your story is dreadful," the woman said. "I consider it an affront to the reputation of the entire city. How can I help you reattain your footing?"
"I've heard the Collen Basin is at war with Mallon. Is it true?"
"Collen has rebelled. Again. This time has been more successful than past efforts, thanks in large part to the aid of a grotesque sorcerer who summons abominations to use as weapons."
"Collen broke free? Will Mallon go back to war?"
The woman made a flicking gesture. "The rebellion makes King Charles look weak. His pride might lead him to strike back, even as others in the palace wonder if we wouldn't be better off without the troublesome Basin."
Raxa gazed at the floor of the carriage. "I can't travel there to find my husband alone. I'll write home. And find a way to care for myself until my family sends my men-at-arms."
"Nonsense. There's no need for you to care for yourself. You'll be staying with me."
"But we've just met. Why would you help me?"
"Because I have a keen interest in all things Gaskan." Maura smiled, crinkling the corners of her eyes. "And because I am a person who enjoys ruffling feathers. I think your story will turn some heads at court."
Raxa smiled hesitantly, then gratefully. The carriage passed under the shadow of a wall: they had entered the palace grounds. All the secrets of the kingdom were no more than a short walk away.
~
Lady Maura, her husband, and their staff were housed on the third floor of one of the Fadrians, the wooden buildings ringing the palace. Their apartments were stuffed with fancy rugs, plush furniture, all the usual rich person junk. Raxa's room had beeswax candles and a feather mattress. As she sank into bed for a nap, enveloped by the cloud-soft bedding, Raxa wondered if once she was done spying on Mallon's plans for Collen, she could find a way to stay and spy on someone else as well.
When Raxa woke, Maura took her for a stroll around the mall between the palace and the Fadrians. The shade trees were starting to push out new leaves. Upwards of fifty people were out enjoying the temperate morning, all of them well-dressed, all of them useless. How much silver did it cost to dress them in linens, to feed them beef and quail eggs, to house them in their lordly quarters? Why didn't the peasants rise up and take back what these leeches had bled from them?
With that thought, she stiffened. She'd always considered herself to be fighting against these people. Now, she was working for their equivalent in Narashtovik. That was the way, wasn't it? Whatever you thought you were, the world corrupted you.
She set her jaw. The mall was only a small fraction of this gathering of parasites. The palace and the Fabians must be filled with hundreds of courtiers and nobles. Finding the few of them who knew what she needed would be rough.
The afternoon was spent fitting her for court-appropriate dresses. By the end of it, Raxa felt martyred. At twilight, the door flew open, admitting a man of fifty whose hair and beard were frosted with silver.
He seemed to close on Lady Maura with a single step, hugging her tight. "Nothing best terminates a woeful day like the embrace of one's wife." He noticed Raxa, his bushy eyebrows climbing. "Ah. We have company?"
"This is Lady Yera of Dollendun," Maura said. "She is currently suffering from a surfeit of bad luck. We are going to reverse that trend."
"We are?" He sized Raxa up, then smirked at his wife. "A northerner bearing a story of sorrow. Tell me, this wouldn't have anything to do with your dispute with Loris?"
Maura smiled thinly. "It is purely an act of altruism. If that act also has the consequence of thwarting Loris, I can only ascribe it to the gods showing their approval for my good deed."
Lord Boscayne winked at Raxa. "Well, Lady Yera, please see that my clever wife doesn't get herself into too much trouble."
Raxa smiled back at him. If they thought she was a pawn, she was happy to let them. Because Maura was a mark. And the key to working a mark was to find out what they want from you, then pretend to give it to them. As long as she could do that for Maura, she'd have the run of the palace.
They ate. It was opulent. Raxa tried not to enjoy it as much as it deserved. After, she declared she was tired and retired to her room.
She moved to the window and gazed across the dark mall, where young courting couples now wandered in the night, working up the nerve to kiss. Raxa could only slum around in the shadows for a few minutes per day. Unless she knew the exact time the king's ministers were slated to discuss their plans for Collen, and then showed up at the precise moment they quit the pleasantries and got down to policy, she had no real chance of hearing what they intended to do about the Basin.
She'd need to steal documents. She supposed she should start with the Lord and Lady Boscayne—try to figure out what they were up to, whether Raxa was getting herself into any trouble. She'd already made an assessment of the apartments. After napping, she crept out into the moonlight hallway and headed for the lord's study.
The door was locked. Interesting. Hadn't been earlier. She had it open in seconds. She moved to the writing desk. The surface was scattered with blotting sand. She picked up a page and held it to the moonlight.
And saw it was written entirely in Mallish. Which she couldn't read. Cursing herself, she set it down and returned to bed.
The entire morning was spent having her hair done and modeling for the finishing of her dress. Once it was done and on her, she was paraded in front of a mirror. The woman who stared back at her looked very elegant and nothing like her.
That afternoon, Maura took Raxa around to tell her story to a few friends. Raxa played her part. The other women looked suitably horrified. Raxa could tell Maura was sowing the seeds of gossip, but she still wasn't sure what the game was.
On their way back to their apartments, Raxa asked, "Is it possible I learn to wri
te Mallish?"
Maura cocked her head. "We're going to be quite busy. Why would you wish to learn the writing of Mallish?"
"Because to not know it and to be in Mallon is to look like you are stupid."
The lady laughed warmly. "The fight against ignorance is our noblest war. I will secure you a tutor."
Meaning Raxa would soon have access to all the writing materials she needed, too. During dinner, she did her best to not sound too distracted. She was due to meet Sorrowen that night. After days of trying to figure out a way to break into the palace, she now found herself trying to break out of it.
As midnight neared, she changed into her old clothes, bolted her door, opened the window, and slipped into the shadows. She dropped down to the balcony on the second floor, grabbed its rails, and lowered herself, dropping lightly to the ground. Still in the nether, she sprinted across the cobbled span between the Fabians and the outer stone wall. She ran right through the wall, found a dark street, and returned to the normal world.
She jogged most of the way to the park. Even then, she was late. Sorrowen didn't mention it.
"Well?" he said. "Did you make it into the Ghosts?"
"I stopped trying to join them when they tried to kill me."
"They tried to kill you? But if you can't get in with them, how are you going to find out if there's going to be another war?"
Raxa shrugged. "Thought I'd get into the palace instead."
The boy laughed, trailing off as he saw she was serious. "The palace? Like the palace where the king lives? How?"
"Ask the lady who's housing me there. I'll pick up what gossip I can, but the good stuff's going to be in the ministers' documents. I think I can get to them, but there's one problem: I can't read them. I'm going to start learning to read Mallish tomorrow."
"Why would you do that?"
"So that I can read Mallish."
"You don't have to do that. Just copy them and bring them to me."
"You can read them. Because you were born here. And spent years in the priesthood." She grinned at him. "Quit making me look like an idiot, will you?"
"I wish I was in the palace. They have me chopping wood and reading about Gashen's victories all day long. It's so boring. He always wins!"
"Picked up any dirt yet?"
"It mostly just seems normal." Sorrowen tilted his head. "But yesterday, I was going in to sharpen my axe when I heard two of the masters talking. Master Jameson said…" The boy closed his eyes, remembering. "'If the war brings the foreigners to us, I wonder how merciful they'll be after all?'"
Raxa snorted. "They can't seriously believe the Collen Basin's going to invade them. Galand's not sure the Colleners can keep their own borders safe. That's the whole reason we're here."
"Maybe so, but Master Waymore thinks they might counter-invade, too. He replied, 'They will spare us. They need us to keep peace among the people. Remember that it is our only chance for reform.' Then I dropped my axe on my foot and yelped and they stopped talking."
"Well, pass it along to the bosses. Then if they get it wrong, they can only blame themselves. Heard from them lately?"
"Early this morning. They're nearly to Cavana."
"Let them know we're in position. That it's only a matter of time until we'll have what they're looking for."
He peered at her, his eyes lit like the candles of a scholar working late into the night. "How did you get like this?"
"Like what?"
"So…sure of yourself."
"By having been through much worse. Now let's get out of here before somebody sees a young male monk fraternizing with an older female roughneck in the middle of the night."
Raxa went back to the Fabians at a jog. Despite her haste, by the time she got home, she'd been out for nearly three hours. When a servant came around in the morning to see to her, Raxa was so thick-headed from exhaustion that for a moment she couldn't remember where she was.
The day was filled with more gossip-mongering. Maura emphasized that Raxa's husband had chosen to do business with the Collen Basin over Mallon, implying that it was because of the unfavorable tariffs Mallon placed on northern goods. Even so, sensing some resentment toward Collen, Raxa was careful to guarantee Mallon's bluebloods that her husband had wanted to come to Mallon, but the dictates of business had thwarted him.
The day after that, she got her writing tutor. Along with enough parchment to cover the sails of a ship, and enough ink to dye them. Within minutes of starting her lessons, Raxa was incredibly bored, but she gritted her teeth and did her best. Combined with the bits and pieces she remembered from Galand's lessons, she learned fast.
Maura assured her that she'd requested audiences with several ministers who could apprise Raxa of the situation in Collen, and how she could best look into her husband's disappearance there. She also gave Raxa a flippant warning about how long such requests could take to be fulfilled.
Several days drifted past, a tasteless porridge of court chatter, writing lessons, and strolls around the mall. At least this gave Raxa a good look at the palace. Each night, she catnapped, then got up in the darkest hour to slip outside and shadowalk into the palace itself, getting to know its escape routes and its exits.
A handful of them, anyway. The palace was gigantic. A town unto itself. She could only spend a few minutes inside it each night until she had to hoof it back home before she ran out of juice and got kicked out of the shadows. Using dead bugs, she tried spying at a distance, but she had a hard time hearing anything the people were saying. It was like she didn't know how to get her ears to work with the bugs' ears. She tried to hone her skill, but it was slow going. And any energy she spent on the bugs was juice she couldn't put toward shadowalking.
She preferred to do her work in person anyway. And as day after day passed with no word from the royal cabinet, Raxa was starting to think she'd have time to memorize every stone in every room of the palace.
~
"I possess good news," Maura announced one morning after breakfast. "The Minister of Foreign Dignitaries has agreed to see you this afternoon."
"This afternoon?" Raxa said. "But I've only waited twelve days. Is he sure he doesn't need twelve more to prepare his office for my arrival?"
"You can make japes now. Your Mallish is improving. Shall I inform the Minister that you will be there? Or would you prefer to pout that the men you need to speak with because of their importance also have concerns that don't involve you?"
Raxa smiled. There was no denying that Maura was a cold-blooded aristocrat who couldn't imagine anything better to do with her wealth than try to make more of it. As Lady Yera's story had rippled through the court, Maura had begun to openly question whether the newly-opened Galladese Passage was enriching the Middle Kingdoms at the cost of Mallon's coffers—and if so, whether the king had any choice but to reduce tariffs on all goods out of the north. Raxa had zero doubt Maura had only taken her in to use her as a political bludgeon.
Yet Raxa liked her anyway. "Tell the Minister I'll see him."
"And thank him for his attentions on this matter."
"And thank him for his attentions."
Servants helped Raxa garb herself in various undergarments and the dress Maura had had made for her to wear to any such audiences. At the appointed time, Maura accompanied Raxa into the palace, where a royal servant delivered them to a modest-sized hall.
A man rose from a table. He was dressed in a pine green doublet with floppy sleeves cinched at three points along the arm, making them resemble a string of moldy onions.
He bowed. "I am Odden Laxley, King Charles' Minister of Foreign Dignitaries. I am sorry to hear the conditions that brought you here, but I am glad to meet you nonetheless."
Raxa thanked him and grabbed a seat. Laxley had already heard her story, but he prompted her to tell it herself.
"I'm waiting for my soldiers to come from Dollendun," she concluded. "Anything you can tell me about the situation in Collen will help me find my husband.
"
Laxley frowned, the ends of his long mustache hanging past his chin. "It is not advised that anyone should travel into Collen at the present time. The locals have savagely murdered many of our people. They have made raids across our own border. There is even talk of witchcraft."
"But I must find him. If there's to be another war, I have to get him out before anything happens to him."
"It is not not known whether our king will dedicate more resources to quelling rebels who may be incapable of accepting civilization. However, we do possess certain assets within Collen. They might make inquiries of your husband on your behalf."
Raxa did her best to pry more from him, but either he truly had no idea about Mallon's plans for Collen, or he had no intention of revealing them to a northerner. She did a careful dance around the Mallish spies he'd implied were working in Collen, but he stonewalled her there, too.
"He wasn't altogether unhelpful," Maura decided once they'd returned to the Fabians. "But I assume a woman like yourself is not satisfied by the assurances that strangers will ask questions on your behalf."
"Not in the slightest," Raxa said. "I need to know more."
"I will inquire of Harald Walpole. But it will mean more waiting."
"Fine by me. The longer he makes me wait, the more time I have to spread my story."
That drew a smile from Maura.
Once Raxa was alone, she killed a spider, painstakingly reanimated it, and sent it on the long crawl toward the palace. When Laxley concluded his day, it followed him to his chambers. That night, Raxa snuck into his rooms, rifled through his writings, and spent hours copying down a page from each. If Sorrowen found anything interesting in one of them, she'd go back for the rest.
At her next meet with Sorrowen, Raxa told him that Mallon had spies operating in the Basin. He told her that Galand and Blays had diverted to a place called Tanar Atain—something about one of their other people getting arrested while snooping around. She didn't know whether to be concerned that Galand's other spies were getting snatched up, or relieved that he was bothering to rescue them.
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