The Land of Night

by Kirby Crow

  Nadiushka was a beautiful woman, albeit frail in appearance, but there was nothing frail about her power of will. It burned in her like a flame, so bright that Scarlet almost felt he could warm himself by it. Liall had her eyes, which were a bright but pale azure, like the descriptions of the Southern Sea.

  Scarlet remembered his manners and bowed again. “Your Majesty,” he said, a little uncertain. They called the Flower Prince so, as well as Divinity, but he was not sure how to address a monarch here.

  Jochi looked both amused and impressed and translated. Her laugh was musical but not unkind. She gestured to a nearby chair.

  “The queen says you are very gallant and desires that you be seated,” Jochi said quietly. “And be comfortable.”

  Scarlet sat in the large chair that dwarfed his smaller frame. It was deeply padded and felt wonderful to sink into, and he had to remind himself not to slouch. The queen gestured to Jochi, and Jochi bowed and moved across the room to a door, where he spoke softly for a moment to someone unseen.

  Jochi returned. “We will have refreshment momentarily,” he told Scarlet.

  Scarlet hoped it was not the eggs and sauce dish again. The queen spoke and Jochi listened, then turned to Scarlet. “The queen wishes to know if Lady Shikhoza has been less than courteous.”

  Scarlet’s tongue clove itself to the roof of his mouth. He stared at Jochi mutely.

  “You must tell her the truth,” Jochi said. “You see the ring on her hand? We call it the Stone of Truth, and legend says that whosoever wears it shall have the gift of discernment.”

  Scarlet felt another sliver of superstitious apprehension run up his spine. The Shining Ones, Liall had said. Perhaps she had the ring from them. “She seemed to be courteous,” he said cautiously. Jochi translated.

  The queen studied him, stretching her hands over the arms of her chair. Her eyes grew less kind, though one corner of her mouth curved slightly. She spoke to Jochi in a different tone, almost like a command.

  “Queen Nadiushka says you are to be commended for your tactfulness, but she would have all the truth, not merely part of it.”

  Hells. Scarlet began to sweat. “Majesty, I can’t be sure, I don’t speak your tongue and I may have misunderstood her.”

  Jochi translated and arched an eyebrow at Scarlet. “Please, continue.”

  Scarlet swallowed hard. “Or I may not. She gave me a phrase to answer the Baron who sat across from me, and he wasn’t very happy with what I said.”

  Her eyes did not release Scarlet. Jochi spoke, and then she to him, turn and turn again, ignoring Scarlet for the moment.

  The door opened and a woman came in bearing a tray. To Scarlet’s relief, the queen and Jochi continued conferring as the woman served him. Not the eggs, but the little dumplings he had liked. He did not eat, however, and the queen broke off from her discussion and gestured at Scarlet.

  “Please, ser, you must enjoy,” Jochi said. “The queen made special inquiries of Nenos.”

  “But,” Scarlet began, and Jochi shook his head very fractionally.

  Stifling a sigh, he took a bite of the dumplings –they were even better than the ones he had before– and Jochi and Nadiushka continued their conversation. Jochi’s tone was calm, comfortable, as if he conferred with queens every day. What did he know of this palace or these people? Scarlet wanted to learn about them but they were the oddest folk. He could get more warmth from a stone at the bottom of a cold river.

  “The queen wishes you to know something about the Lady Shikhoza,” Jochi finally said, turning to Scarlet with a warning look in his eye. “She was, many years ago, betrothed to Prince Nazheradei, but the engagement was broken.”

  Scarlet blinked. “Oh.”

  Nadiushka’s eyebrows went up.

  “Oh?” Jochi was interested now.

  “I was just thinking, perhaps it explains her deception, if it was deception. Did she love the prince very much?”

  Jochi was definitely amused. He bit his lip and spoke to Nadiushka again, and she answered him in clipped tones. “The queen says that Lady Shikhoza loved the prince’s rank more than she loved him, and now her pride is stung. You must not take account of it or waste sympathy upon her.”

  Well, that was plain speaking. Scarlet relaxed. Nadiushka gestured again.

  “She asks also if it is merely rumor that you did not know Nazheradei’s true name and rank before you came to these lands.” Jochi’s expression was bland.

  Scarlet stared at the man, desperate for a hint. It was Jochi himself who had warned him to avoid giving out too much information about Liall. But this is his mother, Scarlet thought. Will she be angry at Liall if I tell her the truth? Will Liall be angry at me if I give something away? How can I know?

  “The truth,” Jochi murmured.

  “I didn’t know,” he said, hoping he was doing the right thing. “I knew him as Liall, only.”

  The queen looked at Scarlet silently for a long moment, and then asked a question.

  “She wishes to know if you were angry when you discovered the truth,” Jochi asked.

  “No... or not all that much. I was shocked and puzzled, and we do quarrel sometimes,” he blurted, Jochi translating everything smoothly and instantly. “Liall says it’s because we are both proud and have sharp tempers.”

  Nadiushka leaned forward. She touched Scarlet’s hand delicately and spoke several very somber sentences.

  Jochi translated: “The queen offers her sympathy. She says her son is willful, proud, arrogant, and indeed has a sharp temper. She asks if it makes you angry when he grows too overbearing, and how you prevent him from repeating the behavior.”

  “I... uh,” he stammered. How in the hells do I answer that? “Well, I’m working on it.”

  Nadiushka turned and reached for something atop a table draped in silver silk. The lamplight gleamed on it, scattering blue light, and Scarlet realized it was a necklace like a spider's web of silver hung with precious blue stones. Sapphires, he believed, like the one Liall wore in his ear. She spread it with her hands so Scarlet might see it, and then beckoned him forward.

  “You may go to one knee,” Jochi whispered, and Scarlet did, though he resented it. All these rules about bowing and scraping. No wonder Liall tired of it.

  She held the necklace up in front of him and spoke to Jochi at length. Scarlet blinked as she lowered it over his head to arrange it over his shoulders and neck.

  “What’s this?” he muttered aside to Jochi. “What am I supposed to do?”

  “It is an heirloom of the queen’s family. It was to be given to the Lady Shikhoza on the occasion of her wedding, but that day never came.”

  Scarlet almost jerked away. “Why in hells is she giving it to me?” he hissed.

  “One does not question a Queen’s motives.”

  “One does not but I by-the-gods may! I’ve seen enough of Shikhoza to know I don’t want her as an enemy.”

  Jochi’s face was immobile. “You have no choice in whom Shikhoza decides to dislike, and you cannot refuse a gift from the queen.”

  Scarlet sighed and bowed his head, cursing inwardly. If he could only speak to her!

  Nadiushka’s expression softened and she gestured for Scarlet to rise. Jochi spoke to her for a moment.

  “I have told her that you feel some anxiety over the gift, ser Keriss.”

  He bowed. “Not anxious exactly, your Majesty. I’m a common man and I’m unused to being given without earning. I also don’t know why I should have so great a gift, but... but I thank you for the honor,” he finished awkwardly. The cool weight of the necklace felt strange on his neck.

  Nadiushka spoke a last time to Jochi and leaned back wearily.

  “The queen wishes you to wear her gift tonight in the great hall,” Jochi said.

  Scarlet felt a prickle of misgiving and resentment as he bowed again. The whole audience had been strange and fraught with foreign nuances he did not yet understand, and he knew the necklace was either intende
d to test him or buy him, for what ultimate purpose he could not guess. Her mention of Shikhoza threw him, as did the fact that the Lady had once almost been Liall’s wife.

  This old queen is too wily for me, he thought.

  With a faint smile, she raised her hand in dismissal. Jochi bowed, Scarlet bowed yet again, and Jochi guided him back out.

  On the way, they passed the group of chattering ladies again, and Shikhoza’s eyes went immediately to the glittering necklace. Nor was she the only one to notice. She turned aside to one of her companions and whispered something that made the woman cover her mouth in shock, her eyes wide. Shikhoza glanced back to Scarlet, her painted mouth curving, and he was suddenly glad he didn’t know what was said.

  Scarlet fingered the necklace doubtfully during the long walk back to their apartments. The nagging feeling remained that he was a staked goat in this palace, with everyone waiting to see which way he turned towards danger. It made him resentful and angry, and he grew more so with every step back to the apartment. Liall was there when they arrived, standing in front of the fire and holding his hands out to the warmth.

  Scarlet took off the necklace and dropped it into Liall’s hands. “Your mother gave me this. I’m not sure why.”

  Liall shot Jochi an unreadable look. Jochi bowed low and immediately withdrew, closing the door behind him.

  “What is this about?” Liall asked calmly, sliding the jewels across his palm.

  “Why didn’t you tell me who Shikhoza was?”

  Liall went very still. “I didn’t think you would need to know so soon,” he said at last. His voice had gone coldly blank in that way he had, the way that told Scarlet that he was not open to questions. “It was a very long time ago. Let us be calm while you tell me what happened.”

  It was far from apology, but Scarlet had a feeling he would not offer that anyway. Liall listened as he described his audience with the queen.

  “And she didn’t speak Bizye, Liall,” Scarlet fumed. “I couldn’t think how to explain that I didn’t want her necklace, not without knowing why she gave it.” He looked askance at Liall. “She asked me things about you, and again I didn’t know what to say.”

  Liall frowned. “My mother speaks perfect Bizye.”

  Scarlet froze, casting his mind backward. Had he said anything offensive? He couldn’t remember. “Oh, Deva,” he moaned, sinking into a chair.

  Liall was thoughtfully running his fingers over the smooth stones, the silver webbing as flexible as silk in his hands. “This belonged to my grandfather, King Lukaska. My mother adored him,” he said quietly. “Perhaps she just means to show her favor to you.”

  “She means to put a broadside into Shikhoza, you mean. And at my expense. Just don’t seat me next to any more fat barons.”

  Liall sat beside him. “Little fear of that. If I know my mother, she will want you to sit at the high table tonight, right where your pretty necklace can sparkle the lamplight into Shikhoza’s eyes.”

  Scarlet made a strangled sound. “Gods, does she hate me?”

  “No. But she does not know you. Strange as it seems, this is her way of finding out who you are.” Liall smiled a little. “I do not endorse her methods, but I am proud of the way you acquitted yourself today. She would not have given you this if she did not approve of you.”

  “I’ll let you know my opinion of her.”

  His eyebrows went up a little. “When might I expect this report?”

  Scarlet elbowed him, not gently. He oofed and chuckled. They sat in silence for a while until Nenos entered the room and bowed.

  “Time to dress,” Liall said to Scarlet’s questioning look.

  “What, again? Hells!”

  Nenos had more velvet and satin for him, which was beginning to feel less stifling. Liall, already dressed and glittering in a pitch black virca with silver trim, watched silently as Scarlet was laced and chivvied into another black virca that felt like it weighed a ton. Scarlet’s clothing was smaller and there were differences in the swirling silver embroidery on the front pleats, but they were near enough to matching that Scarlet did a double take when he saw Liall and himself side by side in the mirror.

  Liall turned to admire Scarlet with his own eyes. Liall ran his hands over the soft fabric covering Scarlet’s chest, and his arms slid around Scarlet’s neck. Only then did Scarlet realize that Liall was fastening the necklace around his throat.

  “Keriss kir Nazheradei,” Liall said softly, as if trying it out. “I like your true name better, and I like your red pedlar’s coat, but we must wear different skins while we are here.”

  Scarlet sighed, giving a little against his will. Liall had that effect on him. “This is very strange to me. Not at all what I expected to find.”

  “What did you expect?”

  He shrugged. “What I’ve always known, I think. A good, hard road during the day, and at the end of it a simple meal and a bed if I’m lucky. New faces, new lands, new things to see.”

  “Well, you have the latter at least. And much more than a simple meal and a plain bed. Does that truly displease you?”

  Scarlet hesitated. “I don’t know,” he confessed. “It’s very... interesting here, but I’m not sure I could get used to it. And you’re not exactly yourself, either.”

  “Explain.”

  “You’re colder.”

  Liall paled a little. “I do not mean to be, I am just… I am afraid, Scarlet.”

  That nearly made Scarlet laugh. What could fright Liall? “You? Of what, for Deva’s sake?”

  Liall bit his lip, looking down at Scarlet, his hands on Scarlet’s shoulders. “I value your opinion of me very much.”

  Hells, what was this? “It’s still in one piece.”

  “What if people were to say things about me? That I was not a good man, or that I had killed someone?”

  Cadan had called Liall a brigand and accused him of murder, too, and Scarlet saw what a snake Cadan was, and how wrong. He shrugged. “I’m no stranger to insults. Did you believe everything the crew of the Ostre Sul said about me? Then stop fretting. Besides,” he added “even if you have killed someone, I’m sure they deserved it.”

  Liall did not answer, but his face turned sad as he arranged the heavy, glittering blue stones with his fingers. “Shall we go?”

  They arrived some minutes before the queen and were seated –as Liall had warned– at the high table. Scarlet saw incredulous looks from all across the hall, but he let them slide off him without harm. That is, until he saw Shikhoza’s eyes, poisonous with malice, fixed on him intently. Even Oleksei’s hate had not been so pointed, so personal.

  Liall did not look at the Lady, but he closed his hand over Scarlet’s. All rose when Nadiushka arrived, but she smiled soberly and kissed her son on both cheeks. She held out a hand to Scarlet, and he bowed, this time remembering Jochi’s admonitions.

  “You are very brave,” she told him in that musical voice, in perfectly fluent Bizye. “And very honorable. I see now what captured my son.”

  “Thank you, your Majesty,” Scarlet said, but it was halting and resented. He did not enjoy being her barb to prick Shikhoza with, and whatever Liall said, he knew that was a big part of her extravagant gift to him.

  Scarlet sensed the queen reading him as easily as a hunter tracking a desert deer. “You are welcome here, as I have said, Keriss,” she said pointedly, and took her seat beside the striking young man that Scarlet knew must be Cestimir, the Crown Prince. Cestimir lifted his glass to Scarlet and smiled cordially, but they could not talk with the queen and Liall seated between them. That would have been rude.

  Cestimir was younger than Scarlet, and Scarlet had supposed this prince would be like any other Rshani he had met, either subtle and quick or hostile and curt. He had sharp eyes for a lad, though. Piercing, Scarlet decided, but there was no subtlety or art in his gaze. Cestimir’s pale eyes thrust his glance like a weapon. Not the finesse of the slender Morturii long-knives either. Perhaps an axe.


  Cestimir’s clothes also caught his attention, for among all these glittering folk, the heir-apparent was dressed as plain a servant in a dun-gray wool virca with a piping of blue silk. The very absence of finery, in his position, made him stand out. Here is a serious boy, Scarlet thought. He wondered if Cestimir ever laughed.

  Scarlet ate, watching the hall with interest. There were many courses of food and altogether too many pieces of silverware. Some of them completely baffled him, including one fork that was no bigger than his finger. He stared at it, wondering what it was for. Liall slid a glance to him and carefully speared a very tiny salted fish with it. Scarlet copied the action, and Liall smiled as if they shared a joke. Liall spoke sometimes in Bizye and sometimes in Sinha to his mother, but all the while Scarlet was aware that they were being watched carefully.