by Danny Macks
“You a jinx?” Kaleb asked.
“A what?” Jeb looked to Inius.
“Ethereals are attracted to interesting things. A royal birth is interesting, but they consider tornados, bandit attacks, massacres, locust plagues and forest fires to be ‘interesting’ events, too. For anybody but a king, interesting is bad.”
“Have you seen an ethereal before, Kaleb?” Jeb asked.
“There’s the harvest shade. It shows up everytime Lord Thesscore collects taxes.” Kaleb gestured to the grain bags. “I expect him any time, now.”
“Excellent!” Inius put back his poleaxe and rubbed his hands together. “We can join Thesscore’s party, get something other than rabbit and oats to eat, and let a grain wagon carry those packs to the castle.”
“So much for blending in,” Jeb grumped.
Lord Ravnos gave Jeb a clap on the shoulder. “Buck up. Interesting isn't always bad.”
*****
Instead of talking to Chad about the incident in the armory, Nimbus hadn't shown up at all. Chad was pretty sure he was being shunned. He had stayed up too late waiting for the ethereal to arrive and was feeling a little worn down on his morning walk about the city.
“I’m sorry to bother you, your lordship.” A merchant said from behind Chad, startling him and sending Chad’s hand to his sword. The merchant backed away, wringing his hat in his hands.
Chad searched his memory as he tried to calm his thudding heart.. He had seen the merchant in king’s court twice. Something about a loan Lord Ursus had received in return for a promise of grain. The harvest had been less than the amount agreed and the contract didn't include provisions for this. There were some legal precedents involved because Ursus had put up land for collateral and King Oberon had ruled years ago that all land belonged to the crown and was only borrowed by the lords. Pious had delayed a decision both times. Eustad. That was the merchant’s name.
“What can I do for you, Eustad?” Chad said.
“Thank you for remembering me. Lord Ursus hasn’t paid us anything and I have a family to feed. That grain will be worth less as the harvests in the more northern baronies start coming in. The timing was why we agreed to the price we did. Is there anything you could do?”
Chad’s mother had once said that sometimes any decision was better than none.
“I’m sorry, Eustad. I’ll talk to Prince Pious, but I don't have any authority when other lords are involved. You will have to wait on the king.” Chad turned away and resumed his walk, but something didn't feel right. He had made a decision. Why did he feel like his mother wouldn't have approved?
*****
Inius spent the better part of the day cleaning up his gear in preparation of Baron Thesscore's arrival, trying to look like a lord again, instead of a man who had trudged a quarter of the way across the kingdom on his own feet. It was early afternoon, and Jeb was helping Kaleb replace a rotting wooden ceiling joist on the underside of the sod roof when he heard Baron Thesscore. The baron was singing the Song of Happiness.
Kaleb and Jeb rushed outside, grins plastered across their faces.
The same crew of men that Jeb had seen in Erroll City were with the baron now, driving a train of half-full wagons down the dirt track leading to Kaleb’s farm. And like the parade in the capital, they were all smiling and laughing as the baron led them across the countryside.
The baron rode up to the house on Foxfire, the gold on his clothing and the bay’s saddle gleaming in the afternoon sun. He nodded to Jeb without recognition, then turned and said “Hello, Kaleb. I've come to collect my tribute. Please give me what you can.”
“The grain’s in the barn, m’lord. I'll help your men load it.”
While Kaleb and several of the men pulled bags of grain from the barn, Inius arrived and walked up to his old friend. Baron Thesscore didn't stop to talk to his friend, but everyone seemed to prefer the baron keep singing his Song.
Jeb idly noticed how much more muscle the last few weeks had given him, easily carrying one of the grain bags, when he saw Leric and a few of Thesscore’s men rounding up all of Kaleb’s chickens.
“What’s going on?”
“The baron hasn't had supper yet,” Leric replied with a grin, then he giggled. “Call it hospitality.”
Something wasn't right. In addition to slaughtering all the chickens, the men were making no effort to count the bags. They were taking everything.
Jeb clamped his hands over his ears and tried to think. A lord’s first responsibility was to his people. Muttering nonsense softly to himself in order to better drown out the Song in his mind, Jeb dragged Inius away from the barn.
“Do something!” Jeb hissed. “This isn't a tax. He’s robbing Kaleb blind!”
The goofy grin on Inius’ usually serious face seemed out of place. “What are you so worried about? Kaleb doesn’t mind. He’s even helping to load the wagon.”
Jeb slapped Inius hard enough to rock him back a step. Thesscore’s men all laughed, but Thesscore frowned and his Song faltered for a note.
“I can’t, even if I wanted to.” Inius ran a hand over his face as he looked down to Jeb. “These are his lands. I have no authority here.”
Who did have authority? Only the king. “Sing. Stop his Song so Kaleb can think for himself.”
"The Song of Mourning has no effect on Happiness.”
“Trust me. Sing.”
At the first note, surprise stopped all Thesscore’s men and Thesscore’s own Song faltered again. Inius paused.
“Keep singing,” Jeb ordered.
In the silence, Kaleb looked at the bag of grain in his hands, the one with ‘seed’ written across it in big letters. “What am I doing?”
Inius and Thesscore resumed their Songs at the same time and, instead of cancelling each other, they combined.
The combined Song made Jeb think about his queen from his last life, who hated him and loved him so fiercely. He missed her, but the memories still made him smile, even when she made his chest hurt. He thought about Harker, but the memories of Harker’s death combined with memories of his life, taking care of him after his parents died in his own gruff way, forming a melancholy whole.
“Bittersweet,” Kaleb said, giving the counterpointed harmony a name.
Beside the wagon, Leric wiped his eyes and said, “Give it up, lass. You can’t win.”
Jeb laid a comforting hand on Inius’ shoulder and the lord wiped his own eyes, but sang louder.
“You're awfully young to know what a person is capable of,” Jeb yelled as the knot is his chest, the one that he had carried for more than a lifetime, slowly unknotted. “This ends.”
Both lords sang long and hard, but the harmony didn't have the feel of a battle. Jeb wasn't sure how much time had passed when, softly, the combined Song simply finished.
"I think ..." Jeb started to say.
"No one asked for your opinion," Thesscore snapped, but the words were without heat, automatic, as if his attention was on something in his own mind.
“I have other farms to visit,” Thesscore murmured into the silence that followed. “Let’s go.”
No one spoke -- not another word was uttered -- but Thesscore’s men all mounted their horses and turned to leave. Inius was silent too, looking at the ground as Thesscore’s men departed.
Thesscore patted Foxfire’s neck, then looked to Jeb, but his voice was soft and contemplative. “Meet me at the castle, lass. We aren't done.”
Jeb nodded but couldn’t think of an adequate reply. Thesscore started to say something more, but simply nodded in return before riding away.
“Well, would you look at that.” Kaleb said into the silence after Thesscore departed.
The bag of grain marked ‘seed’ was still in his arms.
Chapter Seventeen – Lost Songs
Jeb woke to find Inius sitting on the edge of the farmer’s bed, hands clasped and elbows on his knees. The night before, Kaleb had treated the pair to a chicken dinner and insisted
that it was his turn to sleep in the barn.
Inius didn’t look up when Jeb stirred, but spoke softly, without greeting.
“When I was younger, my little brother was picked as Lord Ravnos after my father passed.”
Jeb nodded when Inius fell silent. “I remember Nimbus telling me about it. He was consulted on the decision. The Barony of Ravnos is known for its iron deposits and, although you were both qualified, your brother was a miner in his previous life.”
“I never knew the reason. But the reason doesn’t matter now. I had my family and my little brother had the barony and we were happy. Then, one year, we were out hawking and were all caught in a flash flood. I was young, but I wasn’t strong then, not like I am now. Tersus pulled me out of the flood-water, then dove back in for my wife and daughter. While I laid on the shore, helpless, all three of them drowned. I cried the Song of Mourning for the first time, flat on my back in the rain, that day.”
“Glooms tend to suicide not long after they learn the Song. Why are you still alive?”
“Duty. Duty to my barony and to the memory of my brother.”
“Is that why you’re telling me this now?”
Inius shook his head. “Its gone. After years, I’ve lost the Song. I can’t sing it. I still remember them. I still miss them. But I remember the good times now too whenever I think of them.”
Simply saying ‘I understand’ didn’t seem good enough. Jeb and Inius had been through too much together for two words to sum up what Jeb was feeling.
“When Midnight was born, gamblers were all over the place, trying to gain a little wealth by identifying the colt before the crown.” Jeb smiled. “As a groomsman, even I wanted some of that money. I’m told the same thing happened before the eclipse, on a bigger scale, when I was born.”
Inius nodded. “I remember. The tide was nearly ten feet above normal during the eclipse. Nearly every pregnant person and animal in the kingdom gave birth that day, whether they were full term or not.”
“Then, six years later, the Peasants Revolt happened, my parents were killed and all those new friends they had for years tried to get as far away from me and every other six year old wannabe-prince as possible. I was living in a cave, heading into the city to steal food when Harker caught me and took me in.”
“Was he a friend of your parents?”
“To Harker I was nobody. Not a prince, not a relative, not a future source of wealth. I was just a child who needed help. Thanks to you and Thesscore’s Song, I remember how that felt again -- being valued for myself instead of the solution to somebody else’s problems. And not just this lifetime, but across many of them. I’m sorry it cost your Song.”
“I’m not.” Inius’ smile was kind. “It is I who should be thanking you.”
Embarrassed silence lingered, then Jeb gave Inius a slap on the knee. “Let’s go check on Midnight and Mother.”
“Being seen as male matters to you, doesn’t it?”
Jeb froze halfway to the door. Where was Inius going this time? “Yes, it matters to me.”
“I don’t understand, but there a lot of things in the world I don’t need to understand. I respect you, so I’ll respect your decision, as best as I’m able.”
Jeb gave Inius a fierce bear hug, held it, then muttered “Midnight” and turned back to the door.
Outside, Jeb found Kaleb already up and working, plowing the field for the next planting. He paused when Jeb and Inius approached and wiped his brow.
“I had to corral that colt of yours.” He patted the heavy horse attached to the plow. “He was running Thistle all over the place.”
Jeb glanced toward the little colt, prancing about the corral with his head and tail high while his mother ate. “Midnight is half his size!”
“Psh. Sometimes it ain't the size of the horse in the fight.”
“Sometimes it's the size of the fight in the horse,” Inius said, finishing the old saying, but looking at Jeb instead of Midnight.
Jeb’s face grew hot and he looked away. “Don’t you both have work to do?”
“Thanks to you, boy, I do,” Kaleb said. “Or is it lass?”
“That’s ‘thanks to you, your highness,’ “ Inius corrected.
Kaleb’s jaw dropped and he looked to Jeb with wide eyes.
“Yes, it's time.” Jeb’s eyes were dry when he turned from staring at Midnight to Inius. “I once told you that you didn’t get it both ways with me. Either I am king or I'm not. I might wish it otherwise, but I don’t get it both ways either. The Winter King is who I am.” Then he grinned. “Somebody has to save Thistle from bossy colts.”
“So, back to the capital?”
“No. Thesscore was right. Things aren’t finished between us.”
*****
As Jeb packed to leave, later that morning, he noticed a swirl of darkness in a shadow. He contemplated not signing since his hands were busy, but Nimbus taught him better than that. He didn’t talk with food in his mouth, either.
“I know you are here. Please, come into the light.”
The shade obeyed. Hi.
“Pleased to meet you, what do they call you?”
Mamma.
“Do they also call you the harvest shade?”
Yes.
“Is the harvest complete?”
No. Happy song stopped. Harvest has not.
“Do you know the one they call Nimbus? The Grey? Could you fetch him for me?
No.
“Where do you live, Mamma?”
Castle.
“Would you tell them we are coming?”
Yes. Then the shade faded from view.
That was odd. Chad had never met an ethereal that didn't know Nimbus.
*****
On the third night after Chad attempted to touch the king’s sword, Champ came to visit him in his chambers.
In the throne room the afternoon before, the people speaking at king’s court were still polite and the scene had resembled every other day since Pious had taken the throne, but every day the crowd in the waiting area was longer and the expressions on the faces of the people who came back for the second or third time grew more uncertain. Somebody should be doing something. And far too many people thought that somebody was Chad.
Chad knew what he looked like. He wasn’t as physically powerful as Thesscore, but he had inherited every bit of Thesscore’s height and stood out above any crowd. He listened when people spoke and he remembered names. The court still had its royalist and regional factions, but Chad had been raised by popular people from both sides. He had breeding, he had training, and he had supernatural access to ancient knowledge that even the Libros guild envied. He was everything people expected in a leader.
But he didn’t feel like it. His mother was a leader. His father was a leader. Lauren had been a leader. Chad, on the other hand, sat in candlelight with pen and parchment, waiting for an ancient grey ghost to tell him stories like a toddler at bedtime.
Cold jabbed Chad’s foot and he looked down to see Champ under the table with his head on his paws. Chad scooted his chair back and considered the shade.
“The priests say everyone reincarnates,” Chad said, signing as he spoke, and finger-spelling when he didn’t know the sign. “They say people dream about their previous lives, but I never did. Do you remember yours? Do you remember being Lauren?”
The shade’s chest moved, inhaling deeply, but he didn’t respond.
“I thought so. You don’t understand a word I'm saying. But you’re a baby, not a dog. As dumb, and as intelligent, as any baby. Which means you can learn. You need to learn. But you’re sort of an orphan too. Guess that makes me your father. It’s only fair: you adopted me.”
Chad closed his empty book and opened a full one. “How about I tell you a story? It’s not a children’s story, but I’ll try and have a better one tomorrow.”
*****
“Why did you wear your armor in Calubra Barony, but not here at Thesscore?”
“Part caution and part courtesy. By wearing my armor, I was acknowledging that Baroness Calubra was someone to be feared, even if I was perfectly safe. It was a sign of respect. Here, Elena is an old friend of mine and that kind of caution would be rude.”
Unlike Erroll City, Thesscore had two moats, one around the castle itself and one around the small city. Jeb paused for a moment at the end of a line of merchants awaiting entrance, but Inius kept walking, bypassing the line. Jeb raised an eyebrow.
“There are some advantages to being a lord,” Inius replied with a smile.
“Lord Ravnos, Lady Thesscore is expecting you,” one of the guards at the city gate said as the pair approached. “We have a room prepared so that you can refresh yourself after your journey. You can leave your pack and servant with my men, inside.”
Jeb followed Inius across the drawbridge, much wider than the bridge at Erroll Castle and under a great iron portcullis. Inside, eight men waited in full armor, weapons drawn. Outside singing range, Jeb noticed a man on a rooftop with a crossbow. He assumed there were more he couldn't see. Glancing behind him, he saw the four guards at the gate had followed them and were in between the pair and the portcullis.
Inius very slowly shifted his poleaxe, which he'd been using like a walking stick, into a wide two-handed grip.
“Crossbows above and four swords behind,” Jeb murmured.
Inius nodded, but didn’t turn. “Is there a problem, gentlemen?”
“Not at all, m’lord,” replied the man who had spoken before. “Your room is waiting.”
“Would my room happen to have a lock?”
Jeb looked around and moved slightly, hoping to orient the horses for a kick, but everyone was standing too far away. Both horses were responding to the tension and shuffling nervously.
“Of course. For your own safety.” Six and six, the guard signed and one of the men in front nodded.
