Respectant

by Florian Armaselu

  “Father,” she whispered and stood in front of him.

  “Yes, Lanya,” Codrin said absently, without realizing what she had said.

  Saying nothing, she smiled, tears on her face. The yellow orb in the sky changed to hues of tangerine, and her tears caught the light, in a strange radiance. Kneeling on the sofa next to him, she out her arms around his neck, and her head on his shoulder.

  “What happened?” he asked gently and circled her waist with one arm, then pulled her into his lap. Inadvertently, Codrin caught her scent, neither perfume nor sweat but almost grown woman, sweet and fresh. His hazel eyes widened, and he exhaled briefly to dismiss the strange sensation.

  “You are the only father I have ever had.”

  “Lanya, you have a father,” he said, and suddenly realized how she had started the conversation.

  “No, he was never my father. He never cared for me. Please be my father.”

  Codrin closed his eyes, and the memory of his twin sister, Ioana, came to him; that and his late, lonely childhood without parents or siblings. “Very well,” he said tentatively, “I will try, but what should I do differently to what I’ve done before now?”

  “Nothing,” she said happily and nestled herself in his arms, like Vio might have done, and Codrin forced himself to ignore her memory.

  That evening, after dinner, Lanya stopped next to Codrin. “Good night, Father,” she said and kissed him on his cheek.

  “Good night, Lanya.”

  “I could not refuse her,” Codrin answered to the mute questions from Jara and Cernat, when she had gone. “Well, I have a daughter,” he said and smiled coyly.

  Jara and Cernat smiled back, saying nothing. A few days later, in a similar way, Jara became Lanya’s ‘mother’. The girl had inherited both Orban’s intelligence and his stubbornness, but her version of those traits was gentle and persuasive. She was intelligent enough to realize that Codrin was haunted by bad memories and persuasive enough to disturb his habits, helping him, if not to fully forget, at least to feel better. Codrin saw that the girl kept his ghosts at bay, and he let Lanya have her way. After a while, he came to enjoy her presence as much as she enjoyed his, and they spent more and more time together.

  The large backyard of the palace was half park and half botanical garden, and the first signs of nature claiming its rights were already there. Every day, Lanya dragged Codrin out of the palace, and they both let the exuberance of spring fill their minds. Sometimes Jara joined them. One day, just after lunch, Orban, who knew by heart where and what plants were blossoming, was there too, and they met suddenly, face to face, walking around a large bush spread with white flowers with a scent like a lemon tree. As had happened many times in the past, Lanya froze on seeing her father, and she gripped Codrin’s arm. She tried to hide behind him, and it was only his firm arm that stopped her.

  “Ah, Codrin, would you leave me alone with my daughter?” Orban asked, his gaze measuring Lanya, a muted pleasure showing in his eyes. She was planning to ride after the walk, this afternoon, and she wore a riding habit with a jacket dyed dark blue traced with copper thread, and black boots peeping from the hems of her split skirts. Her blonde hair was tied back and bundled in a crocheted net at her neck. Jara’s hand showed in her choice of clothes, and everything suited Lanya well. “Just for a few moments.”

  Silent, she gripped Codrin’s arm even tighter.

  “I will be around, Lanya,” Codrin said and gently pulled his arm from her stiff fingers.

  “Let’s walk a little.” Orban lent his arm to her, and a baffled Lanya obeyed him. “You have a good relationship with Codrin.”

  “Does that displease you?” Lanya asked, her voice brittle. Her mouth tightened in a tough line, a glimpse of white teeth pressing into a lower lip gone pale.

  “Why? Codrin is the best thing that has happened to you in a while. He is like a … father to you.” Orban swallowed the lump in his throat, and nudged his daughter to walk faster. “You’ve blossomed during this winter and you are safe.” He was now composed again, apart from the tightness in his voice, a faint vibrato that disconcerted Lanya. Her keen senses felt his well-masked uneasiness, and she was uneasy too; she had never sensed even the slightest trace of emotion in her father before.

  She looked uncertainly at the signs of spring around them. “Yes, I am safe.”

  “One day, I will tell you more about what safe meant for you in the past. But not now. You have inherited both the beauty and the intelligence of your mother. They will serve you well in time. Codrin may be like a father to you now, but you are no longer a child, and he might make a good husband too. There are very few men like him in Frankis. Well, he is waiting for you.” Orban nodded at his daughter, patted her hand and walked away at a brisk pace, followed by her puzzled eyes. Unseen, he smiled at the ambiguity of his words.

  Lanya was supposed to ride with Codrin that day, but he was confined to the palace by one of the first embassies of the spring. Orban’s words still rang in her mind and, for the first time, she did not dismiss her father. Even though she was tired from the ride, that night, Lanya found it hard to fall asleep.

  ***

  With the first month of spring, an embassy from the Circle arrived in Arad. It requested free passage for Octavian, the Primus Itinerant, and an audience for him with Codrin. The interdiction on Sages entering his lands was still in place, and none of them had risked being hanged wearing a placard with the word Sage written on it, Octavian the least of all. During the winter, Codrin sent emissaries to some of the Seigneuries in Frankis asking them to recognize him as the new King of Frankis. Only two groups, in neighboring Peyris and Loxburg readily gave their allegiance, and they did so mostly because of the pressure from Cleyre and Manuc. All the other Seigneurs and Grand Seigneurs asked for more time to make their decision. This was the Circle’s work. Baldovin, the Duke of Tolosa, wrote that his allegiance depended on the marriage of his daughter to Codrin. Due his deteriorating health, he offered to step down as Duke and pass his title and lands to Codrin, on the day of their wedding.

  Spring, and not only nature was blossoming; new intrigues were weaving their way into the political tapestry of Frankis.

  Octavian waited patiently at the border between Leyona and Severin until he received approval to enter Codrin’s lands. Approval came with five soldiers, who escorted him to Arad. A day later, they met another troop going south. The soldiers knew each other, and they stopped for a friendly chat. One man, the only one wearing no colors, walked away from the group and came to Octavian, who did not feel the need to stay among the soldiers. The rain had stopped some minutes earlier, but the man who came toward the Sage still had the hood tight around his head. When he reached Octavian, he pulled back his hood and smiled broadly.

  Fate, no, Octavian groaned inside, and his face crinkled up. Can’t be. His eyes went wide. Then wider. He stepped back in shock.

  “Have you lost your voice?”

  “No, this is a nightmare. I am dreaming.” Octavian squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, but when he opened them the ghost was still there. “You are dead.”

  “Am I?” The man laughed and slapped the Sage. “See? Feel?”

  “How...?”

  “How what?”

  “I saw you hanged.”

  “Did you? How could I be hanged and alive at the same time? You wanted me dead, so you could take my place as Primus Itinerant. Which you did.” Verenius pointed at the insignia on Octavian’s chest. “But you are a fake. I am the true Primus Itinerant.” Verenius opened his pelerine, to show his own Primus Insignia. “While you are in Arad, I will have a word with Maud. I have the feeling you have sold her many false trinkets since that day in Severin. My death was only one of them. I doubt that she or the council will be happy. In fact, from what I’ve heard, no one appreciated your services during autumn. The Duchess of Peyris and the King of Frankis the least. How could such an experienced Sage like you make so many mistakes?”

&nb
sp; “There is no King,” Octavian growled, then he recovered. “Don’t you see what Codrin wants? He wants to weaken the Circle. He kept you alive and told me that you are dead.”

  You are right, but why do you think that I still care about the Circle? That’s wrong; I still care about the Circle, but not the swamp you’ve made of it. “I don’t know, Octavian. I don’t know. Maybe it’s what you want us to believe, to hide your betrayal and failures. When you return to Leyona, you will know what the Circle thinks about them. I wish you good luck in Arad. See? I am not such a bad man as you think.” Verenius laughed and walked away, leaving Octavian alone with his ghosts.

  As he neared Arad, Octavian’s ghosts became more and more restless. All his failures of the last year came to him, one by one, and the disaster that happened at Eagle’s Nest was particularly jarring; it ended with a long list of strong enemies. He scowled, and the muscles round his jaw tightened under his skin. In a burst of rage, he cursed Codrin, Cleyre, Manuc and even Maud and the Circle. He was intelligent enough to realize that the encounter with Verenius had not happened by chance; Codrin wanted him to know that Verenius was alive and on the road to see Maud and the Council of the Circle before they met. Passing through the southern gate of Arad gave him shivers. The evening sun pierced the swirling clouds with bright red, and the Sage shivered even more. Ten guards surrounded him, and walked him through the narrow streets of the city, the gate of the palace and even through the long corridors inside, the strict cadence of their boots fraying his nerves. None of them spoke to him, and they finally left Octavian alone only when he passed through the door to Codrin’s office. He gritted his teeth while the silent door closed behind him. Fate, be kind with me.

  Codrin received Maud’s letter, then fixed his eyes on Octavian, his face showing the sharp expression that usually made men step away from him. Silent, he massaged the place where a bolt had hit him during the night attack at Eagle’s Nest. “From here to Peyris, you left behind a trail of evil intrigues. And blood. And failures. They will haunt you.”

  Octavian’s face had gone white, and he looked down at his feet, which had started to shake under the table. “I...” he managed to say, though it was hard to understand exactly what he was trying to say.

  Codrin read Maud’s letter twice – it was the same offer Baldovin had sent just weeks before: his daughter for the kingdom. “The Circle gives with the left hand and takes back with the right. Its right hand is always stronger and always greedy. You crave too much control, and that’s the only reason Frankis was so long without a king. As Baldovin is too weak to ride, in one month, I will visit Tolosa, and we will settle everything there. Make sure that Maud is there too. I have no other answer for them now.” He stood up, and went to the window, leaning against the sill. “Sage, find a den to hide, and never cross my path again.” His voice was flat and strangely more menacing than a burst of rage. Am I becoming too weak and predictable? A few months ago, I would not have spared this snake for political gain.

  Octavian left the room, silent, bowing, even when Codrin was ignoring him. A cold trickle of sweat slid down his forehead. His mouth tasted salty and bitter. Like blood. Perhaps he had bitten his tongue.

  Codrin looked through the window, seeing nothing until gentle, familiar figures came to him, one by one: Saliné, Marie of Tolosa, Lanya. Their faces formed a carousel before his eyes, rotating, coming and going, increasing and decreasing, replacing each other by turn. What kind of Vision is this? It shows me no future. Several futures? he asked tentatively. Lanya is too young, and how can I chose between Saliné and Marie? Politically, Marie is the best choice, but... Even his most trusted people were discreetly pushing him to chose Marie as his spouse, and make the crown a fait accompli. Not only Cantemir, Panait and Verenius, who were Sages of the Circle, but Sava, Valer and Boldur too, and the latter hated the Circle. Vlad, Mara, Vlaicu and Cleyre abstained; they knew Codrin better, and Jara did not interfere either. I am the Seer of the Realm, and I must act in a responsible way. My decision will have an impact on the Fracture. Marie will bring me Tolosa and help me unify Frankis. Tolosa... He tapped on the letter from Maud. Then why this feeling that Saliné is still my future? Am I blinded by my love for her? Abruptly, the carousel Vision returned, as if it was sensing that he did not understand the hidden message.

  Frustrated, he shook his head to end the Vision, and threw Maud’s letter on the floor. His mind drifted to Severin, to a time long gone, yet everything was still fresh inside him. Vio was sitting on his shoulders, trying to reach some cherries, and Saliné was looking at him with her large green eyes, and that smile he would give anything to see again.

  “Up, Codrin, up,” Vio said in her crystalline, cheerful voice. “I want those big cherries, there.”

  Chapter 28 – Codrin

  As usual, the Vision came to Codrin when he least expected it, and he gazed angrily at the priest who was speaking to Saliné and a young man, who looked quite handsome. He would have killed both the priest and the young man. Especially the young man, but there was no way to interfere in a Vision – it was going to happen in some nebulous future, after all. In one hour, or in one year.

  “They came here as two people, they will go as a family. Does anyone have an objection to this marriage? Speak now,” the priest said.

  It’s not a large city, though perhaps a bit larger than Severin. Somewhere in the south, Codrin thought, seeing a tall cypress. Spring... Spring comes earlier there. Still it has not happened yet. No Vision shows the past.

  “I declare you husband and wife,” the priest said, and the man kissed Saliné.

  A name, give me a name! Codrin shouted inside, but the Vision ended as abruptly as it had come to him. His hand gripped the pommel of his dagger.

  “Lanya, I must leave now.” They were in the park, their last promenade before Codrin went south to Tolosa. Unhappy, she kept her feelings hidden and nodded with the understanding of a girl already stepping into the adult world.

  He went upstairs, taking three or four steps at a time, then ran through the corridor toward the council room, baffled people stepping back to the walls to let him pass. He stopped in his Council Room, in front of the large map of Frankis he had taken in Mehadia, as a spoil of war, made by the former Royal Cartographer more than fifty years ago, one of the few still remaining after so many years of civil wars and disasters. He traced a path across the map, over the southern lands.

  I was in Grenble, and it’s not there. Genvas, he tapped on the map, Nicea, he tapped again, a little further west. It’s not Nimea. Pierre is its Seigneur. Massala, Montpell, Laurden, Bardaux. The land and the map ended at the border of the ocean. At each Seigneury, he tapped the map. I would need more than a month to visit them all. I don’t have that time. The wedding may be tomorrow; he shook his head, struggling to overcame his bitterness.

  Unconsciously, he recalled the last part of the Vision. “I declare you husband and wife,” the priest said, and the man kissed Saliné. Her warm response unsettled Codrin, and he passed a hand through his hair.

  Is everything lost? Does she love that man? Who is he? Confused and angry, Codrin left the map, threw himself in a chair, and placed his elbows on the table, his chin on his clasped hands. What should I do now?

  “What happened?” Jara asked as she came in. She was the first arrival for the last council before he left for Tolosa.

  I’ve lost Saliné. “Nothing.”

  Jara inclined her head in acknowledgment, thinking if it was something personal she could inquire later. One by one, people entered in the room, glanced at Codrin, who was looking nowhere, absently, then at Jara, asking mutely for a clue. She shrugged.

  “We will leave tomorrow,” Codrin finally said. “As already agreed, we will take the road through Valeni; the last thing I want is to meet Maud on my way. We may bite each other, and the road is long. There will be some changes, though. Sava, you will come with me, too, and we should take two hundred fifty soldiers instead of a hundred.”


  “Will they try something against us?” Sava asked. “Should we take more archers?”

  “I don’t think that they will, but bring fifty archers. That’s a good idea. I had a strange Vision, and I may need to dispatch some companies to a few towns in the south. I don’t have a clear picture yet. Vlad, bring twenty extra scouts.”

  A Vision of Saliné? Jara wondered. That could explain his mood. Bad news? “Would you tell me more about your Vision?” she asked when they were alone. “Was it about Saliné?” she insisted, when Codrin did not answer.

  “Yes, it was a wedding.”

  “We already knew that she would be forced to marry Bucur.” Her voice was uneasy, though she tried to calm him and herself. “At least we know that Verenius was right, and Bucur took Saliné to the south. We will cancel the marriage.”

  “It was not Bucur.” And she did not look like she was being forced at all.