A New World

by Lina J. Potter

  Alas, escape was not an option, either.

  Thanks to Bran, the ambassador's sleep was ruined and would stay that way for a good long while.

  ***

  Richard wasn't sleeping well, either.

  As soon as he managed to fall asleep, his personal valet touched his shoulder, waking him up.

  "What's—"

  "It's Milord Gardren..."

  Richard raised his hand, indicating that no more words were necessary, put a nightgown on top of his shirt, and left the bedroom.

  Bran was sitting in the study, cleaning his nails with a dagger. As soon as he saw Richard, he stood up and bowed mechanically, but it was clear that he didn't really mean it. No subservience, no kowtowing, no awe—the king himself had raised his head from the pillow in the middle of the night just for you, and you weren't even elated?

  But Richard didn't need that. He already had a palace full of toadies and retainers, and few people could do what had to be done without any unnecessary drama and pathos. They were to be appreciated and shown their value so that they would serve with pleasure.

  Although what kind of servant was a priest of Holosh? He might be a friend, an associate, but never a servant. He served only his god, and it meant a lot, too. A king had many servants but few comrades-in-arms, especially those he could trust...to a degree.

  “So?”

  "It doesn't look good, Your—"

  "No titles, Bran. You're my sister's husband, don't forget that."

  Bran chuckled. The dagger vanished from his hands, and Richard once again thought that Angelina was lucky to have him.

  "Old habits die hard. It was easier in Virma."

  "It was," Richard agreed. "But I'm stuck here forever."

  "My condolences."

  "To Aldonai with condolences. What have you learned?"

  "Nothing good, Richard."

  His Majesty sat down at the table, poured himself some wine, paused, and poured water for Bran.

  "Should I offer you wine?"

  "No need. Thank you."

  "I'm listening."

  "My dear brother, this is indeed the Avesterians' doing."

  As Richard listened, his expression turned sullen. He learned about the plan to seduce Her Grace and His Grace, then about the abduction... In the end, he finally spoke up.

  "The Avesterian didn't lie, did he?"

  "I don't think so," Bran replied, smiling.

  It was quite sincere, the way the priests of Holosh smiled after offering sacrifices to their deity. That smile would have been enough for an entire monastery to throw a hysterical fit with a few neighboring villages to boot. He looked very convincing.

  Richard believed him.

  "Is he alive, at least?"

  "He is." The smile wandered across Bran's lips, and for a moment, Richard almost expected to see wolfish fangs sticking out. "For now."

  "Did you maim him?"

  Richard had a good reason to worry, but Bran waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.

  "I didn't maim him. He's safe and almost unharmed, other than a few scratches."

  Richard sighed and put his fingers in his hair.

  "Good. I mean, it's good that this Alden is alive, not the rest. What will I tell Jess?"

  Bran could only sigh. Killing was easier, and so was interrogation. Dealing with inner turmoil was his weak point. He could imagine himself in Jerisson's place and even felt sorry for the count. If anything like that happened to Angie, Bran would have moved heaven and earth. Still, that was Bran with his skills, personality, and knowledge. The count had a different upbringing, a different life...everything! An assassin was not to be compared to a warrior.

  Even while talking to Richard, Bran could have killed him in five different ways, and the king didn't even seem to care about the danger as if everything was normal.

  "Not the truth, Your Majesty."

  Richard nodded.

  Jess, with his temper, might leave for Avester and find himself in a whole lot of trouble. It might not be enough for a full-blown war, but saving him would be impossible.

  What should he do, then?

  "I'll tell Jerisson that Lofrayne abducted his wife because..."

  "Lilian Earton rebuffed the lusty bastard's advances, and he couldn't take it. His pride was hurt," Bran said, nodding.

  One man's initiative wasn't the king's command—two different things.

  Even if Jerisson somehow arranges for Lofrayne to perish...

  Good riddance.

  ***

  Jess turned up at the palace the next morning and was immediately summoned before His Majesty's eyes.

  The latter had a reddish tint, as Richard had barely slept that night.

  “Richard?"

  "Jess, sit down and listen to me."

  The version created by Richard and Bran was as follows.

  Baron Lofrayne had arrived with the ambassador's party. He actually planned to enter a contract with Mariella Trading House, but then became interested in Lilian Earton personally. He wanted something from her and was bluntly refused. And so, the baron decided to abduct the woman he liked.

  Unsurprisingly, that's where the problems started.

  Jess listened to that, thought a few moments, and asked, "Richard, will you let me go to Avester?"

  "Yes," and before Jess sprung up and ran to pack up, added, "but not right now."

  “Why?”

  Jess pulled himself together and prepared to argue.

  Richard raised his hand.

  "Jess, I know that you want to sail after Lilian, but what do you think will happen to you in Avester?"

  "They'll try to kill me," Jerisson shrugged.

  "They won't just try. They'll kill you," Richard said bluntly. "You'll be in someone else's land there, and His Majesty Entor won't forgive you anything. You must realize that."

  Jess did.

  "And leave Lilian in that bastard's paws?"

  "That's how little you trust your wife?'

  "I trust her!" Jess exclaimed, offended.

  "Then give us time. I promise you; we'll get her out."

  "Richard, Lilian's pregnant, or have you forgotten that?"

  Richard cursed. Indeed, it had slipped his mind.

  Jess paused and then added a few more swear words.

  "Yes, then it's even worse."

  The men exchanged glances, having the same thought.

  They were running out of time.

  What was left for them to do?

  Place hope in Lilian herself.

  "It doesn't matter. I'll do everything possible and impossible, but you shouldn't stick your head out."

  "Three months, Richard. Then I'm sailing to Avester."

  "Good. It's a deal."

  Jess nodded.

  "I'll go to my rooms. Calm Miranda down."

  "Move the entire family to the palace. Until we solve the Avesterian problem, we shouldn't take risks."

  Jerisson nodded.

  No matter how one tried to defend, the attacker always had an advantage. The Avesterians had twice as much: first, they were attacking, and second, they only needed one successful hit. Jerisson, however, would have to be successful every single time.

  It was enough for them to reach him once, but he had to evade death time and time again. Of course, they had an edge.

  "Good."

  The men said their goodbyes, and Jess went to his chambers.

  Aldonai...help Lilian, I beg you.

  Help her.

  ***

  Bran Gardren deftly tied the letter to the pigeon's leg and released the bird. Fly.

  The bird had a long journey ahead of it, all the way to Altver.

  His Majesty also sent a letter to Torius Avermal, who was to detain and capture six ships at any cost and never let any Avesterian ships through. At any cost, too. He could go as far as to become a pirate, but those bastards should never pass! They couldn't get away with their prey.

  However, Bran didn't really
believe in the success of that operation. There were three routes leading from Ativerna to Avester. The first went past Wellster, Elvana, the Vari Khanganat... They had already written to Wellster. That was a long and complex journey that would require resupply, and the Khanganat had its own quite particular customs and tradition. Bran didn't expect Lofrayne to travel to Avester through the dolphin sea. He wouldn't, in his place.

  The second route was by land, through Ativerna and Darkom. That was a hard journey as well, and knowing Lilian Earton, she wouldn't wait for them to reach their destination. She wasn't that kind of person.

  The third route was again by sea: past Virma, Viriom, and Ivernea. There was a catch there: Shandovar. A favorable current, together with a fair wind, allowed ships to reach Avester much faster than make the return journey. Lofrayne would be an idiot not to make use of that, and despite being a filthy abductor, he was no fool. Well, not that much of a fool, at least.

  The Prancing Mermaid was most likely a clipper: not especially comfortable, designed for quick trips, and often used for piracy, as Bran had found out. If her captain were smart, he would use the current and pick up speed. The wind, the current...

  And the bird had to reach Altver, Avermal had to take measures... There was almost no chance that Lofrayne could be intercepted there.

  The same was true for Virma, too. Several Virman ships had already sailed out. Altver also had some Virmans; Bran planned to write them, too. Still, when Hardring sent out his fleet, the Mermaid would have already reached Avester.

  Therefore, Bran decided to write a few more letters in advance: to Avester, to Ivernea... He had his men all over the place; let them dig. Famously, a man who had information owned the world. Bran didn't really care for the world, but doing a favor to the Crown was valuable. After all, the Chief of Gardren had gotten a generous advance payment, and debts were to be paid.

  Bran tied another message to another pigeon's leg. Let it fly, too. Sooner or later, one way or another, the abductors would get caught. Bran would learn everything he needed to and maybe make a visit to Avester. There were many ways of serving Holosh. Maybe after Bran's visit, Avester would unexpectedly get a different king. All thanks to his devout prayers, of course.

  Oh, a tiny detail: Holosh didn't care for verbal prayers. Only deeds were accepted. Do something, and your actions would become your prayers. If you couldn't...well, no need to bother the god.

  Bran, however, could and did. He was going to do even more later, but for starters, he needed more information.

  The next bird flew out of the dovecote.

  ***

  The knife flashed, piercing the target.

  "Great job, Your Grace."

  Miranda turned around and let out a broad smile.

  “Eric!"

  "At your service, Your Grace."

  Mirrie shook her head.

  "Eric, really..."

  They were in the palace's backyard.

  Yes, a palace doesn't only have glamorous chambers and gorgeous parks. It also has maintenance facilities,

  such as servants' rooms—small, cramped, with low ceilings; utility areas—kitchens, closets, workshops; ponds, a henhouse, a barnyard...

  There was also the backyard where Miranda, who knew the palace in and out, currently stood. It was a training yard: not for His Majesty, of course, but palace guards also needed a place to stretch their legs, so they were given a small plot of land with rocks to lift and pillars to climb. There were also shooting targets. Miranda had already done some squats and press-ups and was currently busy throwing knives at the target, clearly imagining Lofrayne's face instead. Dressed in a shirt tied with a leather strap and a plain pair of pants, she didn't look like a viscountess at all; only her emeralds gave her away. She had removed her ring and put it on a chain around her neck but left the earrings on, and the green gems sparkled in her earlobes, as she wore her hair in a braid.

  "Do we know anything yet?"

  "No," Mirrie replied, sullen. "Nothing. But Papa will get her back, I know!"

  Eric nodded.

  "Yes. But not straight away."

  "Why?" Miranda even stomped her foot. "Aren't you and Leif sailing out today?"

  "Yes."

  "Papa could—"

  "Go with us? No, Your Grace. He cannot."

  "But why?" Miranda flared up again.

  "Because he's too conspicuous."

  Miranda tossed her head to the side.

  "What do you mean?"

  "He's Count Earton, a close friend and confidante of His Majesty. His face is known in Ativerna. What do you think will happen if he sets foot on Avesterian land?"

  "He'll get killed?"

  "And that is the best-case scenario," Eric said, nodding. "In the worst case, they might capture him to blackmail both him and your mother, Viscountess. Don't you understand this?"

  "I do," Miranda said, her shoulders sinking. "But Mama's there...and I can't do anything! Anything, Eric! It drives me crazy!"

  "You can take care of the youngest," Eric said. He had never been good with words, but strangely, they came to him easily at that moment. Was that from above? Maybe Olive was watching his servant. Legends said that he could grant anyone a silver tongue. "As for the countess, we'll definitely save her. But first, we need to do recon."

  Miranda nodded.

  She knew that: knowledge before action. Her mother, her father, and many other people always repeated it to her, even sometimes in different words.

  "I'm so scared for her, Eric. So scared..."

  The Virman reached out, and Miranda silently put the knife into his palm.

  The blade slid the air with a hiss and hit the bullseye, sinking into the wood almost hilt-deep.

  "I promise you, Mirrie, we'll get her out. I swear."

  The third blade stuck into the target next to the first two.

  "I believe you."

  It wasn't a blood oath, of course, but it hit home. It was worth believing.

  ***

  For Yda, the morning started off marvelously.

  She woke up in a warm bed inside a cozy room. A sweet maid helped her wash up and slip into a cute wine-colored dress, after which she was escorted into the dining hall, where Yda met the sir from the day before and a beautiful lady—his wife.

  "Good morning."

  Her curtsey wasn't good enough, but at least she tried.

  "Good morning, sweetie," Hans said with a smile. "Sit down, let's eat."

  "Yes..."

  "Uncle Hans. You may call me that."

  "Thank you, Uncle Hans."

  "You can call me Auntie," his wife chimed in and gave the girl a friendly smile. That finally helped Yda to relax. She realized that nobody was angry with her in that house.

  She sat together with the others and ate delicious porridge, meat, and something sweet as well. It was a real embarrassment of riches. Then they washed her face and hands with nice-smelling warm water, wiped it with a sponge, and Uncle Hans gave her a warm cloak, just her size.

  "Let's go, moppet."

  "Where, Uncle Hans?"

  "To Castle Taral. You'll like it there, I promise."

  Yda was a little apprehensive. She had no idea what might be in that castle. Still, if Uncle Hans said that everything was going to be all right, it must be true. They will feed her well and never hurt her...right?

  "Right," Hans said, nodding. "And I'll be visiting to check up on you. If anything happens, just tell me."

  Yda pressed herself close to the kind sir and got a big lollipop from him.

  So sweet...

  ***

  The journey was over in a flash. Yda slept a bit and felt a little upset when they reached their destination. But Uncle Hans was already climbing down from his horse, and an incredibly beautiful lady was coming to meet him.

  She had blond hair and blue eyes.

  "Ingrid, you grow more charming with every day."

  "Leir Hans," the blonde said with a smile. Yda was staring at
her wide-eyed.

  "Who's that little birdie with you?"

  True, dark-haired and dark-eyed, Yda looked like a scruffy nestling of a jackdaw.

  "This is Yda," Hans said, introducing the girl. "She has nowhere to go, and she won't last long on the street. At least, in Taral...I think with time, she might become a good lacemaker."

  "We can always try," Ingrid agreed and knelt down in her gorgeous bright yellow dress, so her eyes would be on the same level as Yda's. "Don't be scared, honey. What is your name?"

  "Yda, Milady."

  "Auntie Ingrid."

  The woman's smile made Yda thaw out, and she felt calm and at ease. Auntie Ingrid wasn't wicked; Yda could see it. She was nice.

  "Auntie Ingrid," the girl repeated.

  “Good. Let's go. I'll show you your room. It's small, but you're still little, so it will be enough for you. For now, you'll live alone, and later, if you want, you can stay with the girls."

  "Yes, Auntie Ingrid."

  Hans nodded. The Virman woman got it right. He didn't have to ask her for anything, didn't have to explain... The girl would be protected and cared for. She would grow up together with Virman children; she would get an education...

  Basically, she just received a chance to live a long and happy life, and she realized that—she wasn't stupid.

  "Uncle Hans, thank you!"

  Her small hands joined behind his neck, and she left a sloppy wet kiss on his cheek. Hans patted the girl's hair.

  "I'll come to visit you, I promise."

  He was going to keep his word.

  ***

  For the first time in more than ten years, Jess had no idea how to look his daughter in the eye. The last time was when he had decided to marry Lilian Earton.

  Is it easy, telling a child that they were going to have a new mother? It depends on the person. For Jess, it hadn't come easy.

  Still, he did it, and his words became a prophecy. Lily truly became a mother for Miranda. Their bond was so close that even some birth mothers might envy. Miranda adored her stepmother, and Lily would tear anybody to shreds if they dared to mess with her daughter. Jess had realized that when Lily almost killed his mistress.

  And he had to tell Mirrie that Lily would be missing for a long time, if not forever. That she was gone. That he had no idea when she would return...