Beauty's Quest

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Beauty's Quest Page 2

by C. S. Johnson


  “What happened?” Rose asked with a sense of foreboding.

  She knew the Rhonian history of the Rose Ruby. Her own father had set out to find it in order to win her mother’s hand in marriage and the kingdom’s throne. But as she had discovered before, the Rhonian history was often incomplete.

  “The Sultan of the Orlo Empire was visiting this very island when it was stolen. Some have said that a peddler stole it and made his way back to a small kingdom called Rhone.”

  “I see.”

  “We were never able to prove it, and it has since disappeared again,” the innkeeper said. “But it is said to have great powers, able to bring down great men and kingdoms.”

  “That seems ... unusual,” Rose said, trying to hide her surprise. She’d known her father had to have given the Rose Ruby to the previous king in order to marry her mother.

  What had happened to the ruby?

  Rose shook her head, telling herself to focus. She could solve that issue later. At the moment, she needed to focus on securing rooms for herself and her crew.

  “But surely you still trade with Rhonian ships? Could you take Rhonian money for the night?” she asked.

  “Let me see.”

  Philip handed him several coins from the small pouch he had at his side. “Here.”

  The innkeeper looked at the coins, carefully turning them over in his gnarled hands. “Well, I haven’t seen Rhonian money in a long time,” he admitted. “Their ships call to port only a few times a year. We use Maltian shekels here, but this will do if you have collateral.” He glanced up at them with his aged eyes. “I can trade currencies from time to time with a friend of mine. Collateral will act as a form of insurance.”

  “Here, take my sword,” Philip offered, reaching to unclasp his scabbard before Rose could object. “This should grant you enough money in the event we are unable to pay.”

  After examining the sword with careful hands, the innkeeper nodded. “We have a deal.” The innkeeper took the sword and placed it under his desk. “Let me show you to your rooms.”

  As the man grabbed a torch and beckoned them to follow, Rose elbowed Philip. “You didn’t have to trade in your sword,” she said. “I could have—”

  “Done the exact same thing,” Philip interjected. “But you have the sword of Queen Lucia. There’s no need to risk it. I have more swords back in Einish. Besides, we’ll get it back once our payment is secure.”

  “Still, I wouldn’t—”

  “Wouldn’t want to owe me anything?” Philip asked, teasing her. “Wouldn’t want to have to say ‘Thank you’ to me?”

  Rose narrowed her gaze. “Well, thank you.” Then she stuck out her tongue at him. “See? It’s not so hard.”

  “Isn’t it?” he asked, making his point.

  Rose sighed. “I’m sorry I said anything.”

  “An ‘I’m sorry’ and a ‘Thank you’? I must be dreaming.” Philip laughed.

  “Shut your mouth,” Rose barked.

  “That’s more like the Rose I know,” Philip bantered back.

  Theo cleared his throat from behind them. “Are we almost to the room?” Theo asked, directing his question to the innkeeper in front of Rose and Philip.

  Rose glanced behind her. The terse tone of Theo’s voice surprised her.

  He nodded toward the untidy black curls that fell over Theo’s shoulder as Sophia balanced on his back. “Sophia’s getting heavy.”

  “Yes, here we are.” The innkeeper looked back at them as he handed his torch to Ethan. “Have you come for the tournament?” he asked.

  “What tournament?” Rose asked.

  He laughed. “I guess that would be the right question,” he said. “Maltia has tournaments six times every year in celebration of its many conquerors.”

  “Conquerors?”

  “Yes. Maltia is a small island,” the innkeeper explained. “But we have a rich heritage, thanks to those who would conquer us. Many kingdoms have come to our shores in search of freedom, comfort, or new land, and found our island to be suitable for their desires.”

  “So you have tournaments in celebration?”

  “Well, that, and to cover up governmental foul play,” the man admitted, a little sheepishly.

  “What kind of tournament is it?”

  “We are celebrating our Aragonian heritage with the Bull Tournament.”

  “Is there money to be made?” Philip asked.

  “Plenty,” the innkeeper confirmed. “It is a high honor on Maltia to win in the tournament rounds.”

  “We are definitely here for the tournament then,” Rose agreed, ignoring Theo’s disgruntled cough behind her.

  “Ah, excellent,” the innkeeper said. “I’ve picked out good rooms for you then, for these are fit for champions.”

  While the others pushed into the rooms and began to get settled, Rose extended her hand to the innkeeper. “I’m Rose,” she told him.

  “I’m Felise,” he said, bowing gracefully over her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, My Lady.”

  “I’m no one special,” she told him, dismissing the formal gesture. “Please just call me Rose.”

  “I’ll call you Rose, but you’re far from being no one special. It is a special woman who holds the loyalty of her followers.” Felise smiled. “I’ll look forward to seeing you again tomorrow.”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  Rose waited until the innkeeper had completely disappeared from view before she shut the door. She looked to see Philip head out his door to help her three Rhonian guards settle in while Mary and Ethan were both snoring already.

  She watched Theo as he put Sophia down for the night, tucking the coverlet around her. Ever the gentle protector, she thought.

  He met her gaze, and Rose smiled. He didn’t smile back. She sighed. He’s not happy about the tournament idea.

  “Rose,” he said, coming up beside her. “I don’t like the idea of entering a tournament here.”

  “We could use the money, Theo,” Rose reminded him.

  “I know,” he said, his lips pursed together in dismay. “But I—”

  “I’ll be careful,” Rose promised.

  “I still think we should learn more about it before jumping into it.”

  “We will. We’ll find out all the necessary information tomorrow when we look for passage on another ship.” Rose smirked. “Weren’t you the one who wanted to enter into a tournament while we were in Rhone?”

  “The one in Rhone for you or your sister’s hand was to protect you,” Theo reminded her. “This one is for money and acclaim. The money we need, I’ll give you that, but you know it’s dangerous for others to know who we are, and why we’re traveling.”

  “The money is reason enough to do it,” Rose argued.

  “What if we find passage to the Romani territory tomorrow?”

  “We’ll still need supplies.” She was tired, and as her patience wore down, her insistence increased. Rose met Theo’s gaze with all the stubbornness she could muster.

  After a long moment, the silent battle raging between them, he frowned. “I’ll see about passage to the Romani territory tomorrow,” he finally said. “Then we’ll make some plans.”

  “Good.” Rose nodded calmly even as she inwardly rejoiced. It wasn’t often she was able to win an argument with Theo. “Thank you for carrying Sophia today. You should get some sleep. You need the rest.”

  “It’s not obvious, is it?”

  She put her hand to his cheek, wanting to comfort him as much as she wanted to get him to smile. She traced the outline of his jaw. “You have dark circles under your dark circles,” she told him. “With your coloring, you look just a bit too much like a demon rather than a man.”

  “A man who serves you,” Theo added softly, leaning into her touch.

  In the darkness with only the moonlight’s shadow, in the quiet of the room, she felt her iron grasp on her self-control fade as her palm brushed against the soft bristles of Theo’s emerging beard,
the back of her fingers brushing his ebony locks, having grown only a bit longer since they’d started out on their quest. Her eyes fell to his lips in unspoken weakness.

  Quickly, she patted his cheek once more and then dropped it, the stinging warmth still there. “I would hope it’s easier to serve me than the devil. He doesn’t look after his own the way I do,” she said, her words sounding empty against the oncoming night. “Get some rest.”

  Theo nodded. “Good night, Rosary.”

  Rose turned and hurried into her own bed, feeling strangely vulnerable and exposed.

  *3*

  ҉

  “WELL, THAT WAS EASIER than I thought it would be.” Rose jingled the new mixture of Maltian coins in her pouch. “Not only did we manage to exchange currencies, but that merchant was nice enough to tell me about the tournament fees.”

  Philip snatched the money purse out of her hand. “I’ll hold onto the money for now,” he offered.

  “Hey, come on,” Rose scoffed. “I’m not going to spend it all while we’re out. I know we need to take care of the entrance cost.”

  “We don’t have much left, especially if we are going to be staying for the tournament. We’ll need money for Felise and food as well as the entrance fees. Our group should have only a limited number of people enter into the tournament, just to be on the safe side.”

  Philip watched Rose as she swiftly did the calculations. “Three is enough to enter. If none of us wins, the rest can see about getting jobs. That way, we’ll have a safeguard.”

  “This tournament is different since it is in the Aragonian tradition,” Philip reminded her. “There is no big winner; they go by individual challenge, much as the Greeks did with their Olympic contests.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It is the rare person who is exceptionally gifted in more than one area,” he explained. “A regular tournament might have points or levels to achieve to be declared an overall winner, but an Aragonian tournament just has several winners. It’s part of the reason they have longer tournaments than other countries and regions.”

  “That explains why Felise is so welcoming to his tournament guests. Greedy fellow.”

  Philip grinned at Rose’s objection to paying Felise more than a week’s worth of room and board. “At least he seems like a nice, greedy fellow, rather than an arrogant one.”

  Rose reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him towards the food vendors. “Come this way. We need to get some food while we’re out. Tell me what else you know about Aragon.”

  Philip floundered for a moment as she linked her arm under his. “Sure.”

  As they walked through the market, Philip told her about what he’d experienced from Aragonian guests and ambassadors growing up.

  He celebrated with her at news of the joust, explained the rules of the sword fighting contest, and worked through her confusion at the Aragonian tradition of running with the bulls.

  “They really see who can run with bulls?” Rose asked.

  “Yes,” Philip said. “It’s a test of endurance, but also a sort of celebratory fanfare to welcome people into competitive settings. Many contests also use it as a way to wean the field while still pocketing tournament fees.”

  “Good for business, then?”

  “In many ways, since medical supplies and doctor’s fees tend to go up with demand.”

  They were nearing the end of the marketplace as well as the conversation when she sighed.

  Philip followed her gaze to see one of the city’s grand harbors, with plenty of ships loading and unloading, ready to transverse the waves of the world.

  It wasn’t hard for Philip to know what Rose was thinking. She was very much like Isra in that regard, he recalled, thinking of how he had befriended Rose’s younger sister during the short time he’d been in Rhone.

  “I wonder if there are any ships headed out to the Romani territory?” Rose asked.

  “We have a decent amount of coins left,” he said, shaking the small pouch, much as she had earlier. “We might be able to afford passage without needing to go into the tournament.”

  “Theo said about as much, too.” She wrinkled her nose. “I doubt it, based on the price we paid for the first ship. But I guess we’ll find out when we regroup for dinner tonight.”

  “We have been on the road for close to three months,” Philip told her. “The tournament is only a week. We have time to stay and participate, if that’s what you want, Rose. We can spare a week. And it’s not like it wouldn’t be good. I know you didn’t enjoy being cooped up in the ship for the last two months.”

  Rose only shrugged at his remark.

  Seeing her ambivalence over the matter almost made him laugh. She agrees, but doesn’t want to admit it. At her glare, he quickly changed the subject. “Where is everyone else?”

  “The guards are working on trading any goods we no longer need, Sophia is working on finding a blacksmithing forge, and Ethan is exploring the city.”

  “And Mary’s back in the room still,” Philip added, “because you didn’t want people to see her.”

  “Fairies are everywhere if you know where to look. But there are many who are hostile, like Magdalina and her son, Everon.” Rose shook her head. “And anyone who sees a fairy like our Mary might also think we’d use her loyalty and magic to win.”

  “I agree with you,” Philip told her. “Although I’m sure Mary was unhappy with the decision.”

  “She wasn’t today, because she’s still tired, but she will be tomorrow. She likes to stay by my side when I fight. To help if I have injuries.” Rose rolled her eyes. “As if I were a child.”

  “In many ways, I imagine you are one to her, from what I’ve seen and heard,” Philip replied. “She has been connected to you for many years, especially after Magdalina placed that curse on you.”

  “True. Mary was the fairy who altered the curse, so instead of dying instantly, I get to fall into a death-like sleep,” Rose acquiesced. “But I prefer to have her as a friend, rather than a doctor or a substitute mother.” She took a bite out of an apple she’d purchased earlier. “I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time. I don’t want anyone thinking they have to.”

  “What about people who want to take care of you?”

  “That’s where it gets annoying,” Rose said pointedly.

  “But Mary and Theo do it anyway,” Philip countered.

  “That’s part of who they are, not necessarily what they are to me.” Rose took another bite of her apple. “Mary is a younger fairy than her cousins. She grew up with me. And as for Theo, I blame the church’s influence. They seem to want the best for people, even if the people don’t want it for themselves.”

  “He did go back to the church today.”

  “I figured he would.”

  “Maltia has a rich tradition of different heritages; many cultures have traveled here and conquered the island before letting it go—as long as they paid their taxes to the right people, of course. It’s not surprising the Christian church should have laid roots down here.”

  “No, it’s not,” Rose admitted.

  “There have been rumors that this is where the Apostle Paul stopped on his way to the lands of Castile and Aragon.”

  “That’s pretty far from the Promised Land.”

  “It’s farther than the Romani territory, where we’re headed.” Philip grabbed her apple and took a bite of his own as Rose narrowed her eyes at him.

  “I guess you can have the rest,” she muttered.

  “I’m only teasing you,” he said. “Here.” He held out his hand, the apple easily within her reach.

  Philip watched her expression grow darker as Rose studied him. He knew he was treading on dangerous ground. But if you want something, he reasoned to himself, it was worth it to risk regret.

  “You’re lucky you’re so pretty,” Rose finally told him, pushing the fruit aside once more. “I don’t feel like breaking your nose over an apple.”

  “Yo
u’re too serious,” he told her, his teeth biting into the apple again. “And you fear too much.”

  “What would I fear from you?” Rose scoffed as a breeze tickled through her hair, ruffling it affectionately.

  Philip gently pushed back her wayward bangs. “That I would offer you my heart just as easily as the apple,” he told her quietly. “And you would have a harder time refusing it.”

  Rose stepped back from him and wrinkled her nose. “I have no trouble declining such an offer.” She pushed her hair down, as if to let him know just how easy it was to deflect such an offer.

  He felt a sudden sadness at her retort, one that was more for her than it was for him. “I know. I’m guessing you’ve had plenty of practice doing that.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Rose shot back.

  “I mean, you’re used to denying your heart.”

  “That’s not it at all,” Rose insisted. From the sound of her voice, Philip knew her temper was rising. “I’m used to denying what other people tell me what I want. I know what I want. I want the curse removed from me, so I can rule my kingdom and marry or not marry whomever I please. Until then,” she said, stabbing her finger into his chest, “I’m not going to worry about such things.”

  “For someone so generous and giving, it’s surprising you would overlook the wishes of others in this matter.”

  “I’m protecting them.”

  “Are you sure you’re not protecting yourself?” Philip asked gently. He had known Rose long enough to know she could put up a fight if it was warranted, but if there was another way to achieve her end, she would embrace it.

  “The two are not mutually exclusive.” Rose huffed. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Find someone else to talk about it if you want, but I’m done.”

  “Understood.” Philip gave her a friendly smile. There’s always later, he told himself. Slow and steady would win the war against Rose and her defenses. “Let’s go check out the armory over there. Maybe we can see about getting your sword sharpened.”

  Rose nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

  *4*

  ҉

 

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