by Kirby Crow
“Are you awake?” Liall asked, rather more loudly than necessary.
Scarlet put his hands over his ears. “Oh, Deva, what did I do last night?” Perhaps, in seeking to set aside Liall’s obvious worry and fear, he had gone along with the diversion a bit too much!
“Aside from singing very badly and very loudly and fondling me in front of the musicians?”
It’s really not necessary to talk so loudly, Scarlet thought, and then realized what Liall had just said. He flung himself upright and top of his head threatened to come off. “Ai!” he moaned and held his forehead. “Tell me I didn’t, please.”
“But you did. Several times.”
Great. Not only suffering, but mortified. “What did I drink last night? Wine?”
“Quite a bit of it.” Liall’s tone was amused. “I ordered it especially for you, and you seemed to like it very much.”
“Demon’s brew!” Scarlet moaned. Something crashed to the floor and he rolled up into a ball of misery. “Aaaargh.”
“Oh, dear,” Liall said apologetically. “Sorry about that.” Another loud bump and then he called –loudly– for Nenos.
“Heartless bastard,” Scarlet moaned into the blanket.
Liall snickered. “It is reassuring to know that I am not the only one who gets randy when he drinks.”
Scarlet was never going to recover from the embarrassment. On the other hand, he did have some very nice memories of the night before, or they’d be nice when he was feeling well enough to enjoy them. Nenos entered holding a pottery cup, and Scarlet heard the old man say something to Liall in a reproving tone. Liall patted Scarlet’s back.
“Nenos has fixed something to remedy your wine-sotted head. You must drink it very quickly.”
Scarlet unwrapped some of the blankets and sat up.
“Hold your breath,” Liall warned as Scarlet took the small cup and drained it.
Scarlet tasted something slippery and something tart and then his throat and tongue were on fire, and the fire was spreading from the inside to the outside. He spluttered. It tasted like bird dung! On fire!
Laughing, Liall gave him another cup filled with water. Scarlet drained it, then fell backward, gasping. The fire on his tongue was dying, but he had begun to sweat.
“What was that?” Scarlet panted.
Liall was still chuckling. “You really do not want to know. The raw eggs were the least of it.”
Scarlet made a gagging sound and pulled the blankets over his head. Liall only laughed louder, and Scarlet heard Nenos saying something sternly to the prince.
“Maggoty, sheep-raping bastard,” Scarlet croaked in Falx, which only made Liall laugh again. Nenos shooed Liall off and they allowed Scarlet to go back to sleep for a while. The next time he woke, he felt much better. He got up and peered through the door to see Liall reading in the common room. Taking a soft robe from the beside, Scarlet went to sit next to him to apologize for calling names earlier, but Liall waved it off.
“You are a very ardent and sweet drunk. No apology is necessary. You have seen me ill-tempered from drink at least twice before.”
Scarlet thought back. “Oh, that’s right. I’d forgotten the morning at the Pass.”
“And on the ship, and you were vile to me!”
“You deserved it!”
Liall pushed Scarlet’s shoulder, and the pedlar suddenly felt that his Wolf was not all lost beneath the prince. It comforted him.
***
Liall instructed Jochi to keep Scarlet busy for the next few days. The third day, Jochi informed Scarlet that he was to be lessoned in Rshani history, but as they left for the library, Scarlet saw that a tiny red box secured with a gold ribbon had been left on the little table next to the outer door.
“What’s this?” Scarlet asked Jochi.
“It looks suspiciously like a present,” Jochi said. When Scarlet put it down, Jochi picked it and up and dropped it into his hand. “I’m sure it’s meant for you, ser. These are your apartments.”
Scarlet’s look was doubtful, but he untied the tiny gold ribbon and put it away in his pocket, an action which made Jochi smile.
“Waste not,” Scarlet said sensibly, then removed the lid. “Well. No guessing where this came from.”
Jochi peered over his shoulder, and Scarlet took the little thing –a silver pin in the shape of a running wolf– and held it up to show his teacher. The silver was not even pure, but yellowed a little from dross, and Scarlet smiled. It was not a princely gift: no jewels or gold, but for the lover of a hill-dwelling bandit king? It was perfect.
“From the prince?” Jochi guessed.
“Of course, since it’s a wolf.” Scarlet saw that Jochi did not understand. “The Kasiri word for wolf is his common name in Byzantur: Liall.”
“Ah,” Jochi said. Scarlet let him hold the pin and he admired it a bit before giving it back.
“Very nice,” Jochi commented, his amusement plain. “I never pictured Prince Nazheradei as a sentimentalist.”
Scarlet was a little embarrassed. “It’s just a pin,” he said, fastening it to his collar, where Liall would be sure to see it at dinner.
“No, this is a personal gift, ser,” Jochi argued. “Wolves are not highly regarded in Rshan, especially not for jewelry, so he must have had this made especially for you.”
Scarlet smoothed the material around the pin and said nothing, but inside he felt a rush of warmth for Liall. “Are you ready?”
They found a quiet section in the huge library where the two of them could sit and talk without being observed. And talk Jochi did. Scarlet was itching to learn more of the language, but Jochi nattered on forever in Bizye, rattling off dates and the names of kings, queens, battles, trade skirmishes, and border disputes. Scarlet listened politely for an hour, then began to slump in his chair and examine the fold of the draperies until Jochi sharply asked for his attention again.
“Sorry.” Scarlet listened as Jochi resumed a long, rambling speech on feuds between baronial houses and the Tribeland Campaigns and uttered a long list of unpronounceable Rshani names and gods his head was going to split!
“What do you do people do here all day?” Scarlet finally interrupted, desperate for diversion. “Or night, or daynight, whatever you want to call it. When you’re not telling fables about magic rings of truth, that is.” He was still stinging over that deception, but Jochi only gave Scarlet a mild look. “Surely you don’t just sit around all the time and talk about things?”
Jochi closed the book he had been quoting from and signaled for a servant to bring che. “That is precisely what we do, ser. The talking, not the fables, I mean,” he said with some salt, and Scarlet saw that Jochi was not sorry at all that he had tricked Scarlet about the queen’s ring. “You must understand, ser, that it is winter now, and this is a royal court. We cannot travel in winter, or not very far, and there is no manual labor to be done that is not already being taken care of by someone else. The queen employs a huge household.”
“So you just... do nothing?”
“No, we spend our time learning,” Jochi explained patiently. “Trust me, once the roads thaw and the ice melts from the fields there will be activity beyond belief. Our growing season is very short, and it takes all of us to work very hard to grow enough grain and vegetables to feed ourselves and our animals all winter long. Even the Prince Cestimir will be expected to thresh the grain and carry hay.”
Scarlet found that amusing. “Did Liall work in the fields?”
“Naturally, he did.”
“And the queen?”
“Even the queen, in her day.”
“Huh.” Finally, something Jochi said had thrown him. He tried and found out he could not picture Liall doing farm work. “So all winter long, you bury yourselves in books?”
“There is little else to do, if you are not a craftsman. You may have noticed, ser, that the Prince Nazheradei and yourself have more servants than you strictly need. There is not very much for them to do either, but they stay on
here during the winter because we need them in the growing season so badly. The Nauhinir Palace is more than a fortress, it’s a community.”
Scarlet thought he was beginning to understand. “What kind of things do you learn?”
“Languages, for one. The long season of indolence is the reason why so many of us speak Bizye and Falx and such, though not the only reason. Bizye, well, you may say that only the old aristocrats think it a strictly necessary part of a noble’s upbringing to learn Bizye.”
That puzzled Scarlet, and Jochi saw and chuckled as the silent servant –a very young man in the same blue livery that Scarlet had seen many of the palace servants wear– served the che very quietly and bowed as he backed away to his post by the door.
“Do not look so surprised. You know that Hilurin once lived among us.”
“I thought it was just a tale...”
“So it is, but most legends have some truth in them.”
“But when—”
“Ask me another time,” Jochi said kindly. “For now, I have been ordered to see to your instruction in Rshani history.”
“By who?” Scarlet grumbled, reaching for a cup of steaming che. Maybe he shouldn’t have called Liall a bastard, after all.
“The queen.”
Scarlet nearly spilled the che. “What in Deva’s shrieking hell for?”
Jochi opened the book again, ignoring his lapse. “I think she believes it improper for the prince to have a consort who knows nothing of our culture. Besides, it is only fair, is it not? The prince knows a great deal about your culture and country.”
“But I’m a commoner,” Scarlet groused unhappily. “You’d think that would leave me out.”
Jochi did not like that reasoning. “You are Keriss kir Nazheradei,” he said primly.
Scarlet made a rude sound.
“At the very least, this is true while you are in Rshan,” Jochi amended. “As for my own feelings, completely aside from what it would take to win Nazheradei –and I have known him since I was a boy– I believe you are worthy of inclusion into the Camira-Druz household.”
Scarlet resisted the urge to roll his eyes. From what he had seen of Liall’s family, he was not particularly honored by that. “But guarding me is a dull job, isn’t it?”
“It is not so simple as that, ser, I am not just a bodyguard. I am a guide, and, as you see today, a teacher.”
“Still sounds dull.”
“Far less so than you would imagine. Besides, I am trained to this, nearly bred to it.” He smiled genuinely. “I am one of the Setna, the Brotherhood.”
Scarlet must have looked strange, for Jochi frowned.
“Have I said something wrong?”
“No. Just... setna. That’s another word for snake, isn’t it?”
He was not offended. “Serpents are wise, are they not? Knowing when the weather is right to come outside, having enough of their own defenses to be feared, being able to detect their enemies just from vibrations on the ground? In Rshan, being called a snake is not necessarily an insult, unless you are called an essima, an assassin.” Jochi closed his book (hopefully for the last time) and sat with it on his knee. “We are sworn to the royal family from ages past. We serve them, in part, as bodyguards and teachers and guides, at least when they are young.”
Scarlet was caught by what he had said earlier. “You said... bred to it? You mean you have no choice? Like slaves?”
“No, no, I said that poorly. There are no slaves at all in Rshan, ser. It is just that the Brotherhood was founded long, long ago, and their descendants have continually served the crown since then. I chose to enter the Brotherhood, as did one of my own brothers, but my eldest brother did not, and has a fine family of his own.”
“You can’t marry?” Scarlet was too startled to realize what an impertinent question it was, then bit his lip when he did. They have no slaves, he thought. Why is that, when every other country in the world has them? “I’m sorry, that really was rude.”
“No, merely curious. We can marry, if we choose, but our duties to our charges come first. When they no longer require us, we may also choose to take a wife. When Prince Nazheradei’s father was killed, my own father withdrew from court and married and then sired three sons and four daughters.” He grinned. “It is not a punishment, ser, I promise you. All who enter the Brotherhood do so willingly. And since there are far fewer members of the royal family than there are members of the Brotherhood, those are not our sole duties. We enforce the law in the more distant parts of our land, and we preserve knowledge where it would be lost.” He made a gesture that may have been one of dismissal, as if talking about his life was unimportant. “It is complicated.”
“Sounds like it,” Scarlet said, and went back to his original point of curiosity. “But you served the queen before she asked you to look after me?”
“We all serve the queen, but no, not personally. I was at court, and the queen made a request of me. I confess, I am one of those odd Rshani who is fascinated with foreigners and foreign lands, and frankly, you seemed rather lost here. I was glad to accept.” Jochi shrugged. “And I find you far more deserving of my time and attention than, say, Lady Shikhoza might be.”
Scarlet laughed a little, seeing that Shikhoza was not well-liked. “Well...thanks for that.”
That was all the discussion Scarlet had that day that did not involve history. Liall was nowhere to be seen when Scarlet returned to the apartments, but Nenos had supper ready and was waiting by the table with a smile, so he indulged the old man and ate, though he had no appetite.
By the time Dvi came to lower the lamps in the bedroom, signaling that the Rshani night had arrived, Liall still had not returned. Scarlet went early to bed without him. Sometime in the night, Liall finally crawled in beside him and woke him a little. Scarlet moved into his warmth, and Liall sighed and pulled his fingers through Scarlet’s hair until Scarlet became drowsy and slept again. By morning Liall was gone, swift as a redbird, before Scarlet had even had time to greet him, and smiling Jochi was there again, eager to bore him to death.
Scarlet still managed to find something to distract him. “You said your people had legends like mine. Will you tell me?”
Jochi narrowed his golden eyes. They had found another section of the library outfitted with its own fire grate and hung with draperies the color of the Nemerl sun, brassy and yellow and cheerful.
“Am I to suppose that you have little interest in politics?” Jochi said, as if everyone in the world would naturally be interested in such, and Scarlet was an oddity because he was not.
Scarlet looked at his boots as the fire popped, not wanting to make Jochi –one of his only friends here– annoyed with him, but Jochi only nodded.
“Very well.” Jochi closed the book with a snap and put it away. “We do have a legend very like yours,” he said briskly “except that ours tells of the elder ages, when the Shining Ones ruled over all of Rshan. There were pale nomads living on the ice in those ages, and the Shining Ones took some of them as wives. Legend says that we are the result. They also say that this land was the first home to your people, the little dark ones, only the Shining Ones were cruel to your folk, enslaving them and using them badly. The Anlyribeth –what you called yourselves back then– rebelled and fled, taking powerful talismans of magic with them, and when they reached what is now Byzantur, the iron in the mountains protected them from the Shining One’s pursuit.”
Jochi got up from the library table and went to fetch a cunningly carved and inlaid globe that whirled around a spindle, no bigger than an apple.
“Here and here are the ancient boundaries,” Jochi said, sketching an outline on the globe with his little finger. “Legend says there was a great catastrophe after the talismans were taken. A flood shrank our land as the waters rose, a punishment from the gods for the cruelty and ruthlessness that brought down the last of the High Kings.” He pulled the map they had earlier used back to compare with the globe. “You see how much larger
Rshan was in elder times? This valley, now far under the sea, was the seat of the kingdom.”
“Did everyone in the city drown?” Scarlet traced the larger land mass on the globe with a fingertip.
“No one knows for certain. Some stories say all perished, some stories insist that a few escaped by ship and made their way to other parts of the world, where they lived on the sufferance of people they would once have enslaved. Myself, I doubt that last. If they had survived, there would be another kingdom. While there were certainly good rulers in the lineage of the ancient High Kings, there were equal numbers of cruel and exigent ones. The Brotherhood was formed to prevent our kings and queens from ever taking that path again.”
Scarlet’s eyes widened. “What would you do if they did?”
