Rook

by Robin Roseau

  “The inn?”

  “Owned by a large family with two daughters, a son, and several nieces and nephews.”

  “In other words, either she changes her attitude and works for you, or she changes her attitude and works on a farm, or she marries someone who lets her get away with current behavior.”

  “Or you take her off my hands, but you’re not inclined to do that anymore, are you?”

  “I told her I would help her. I didn’t promise how. Bick-nick still wants her?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’d do that to him?”

  She paused. “I still remember the sweet niece I once had.”

  “Does he know what he’d be getting into?”

  “I doubt it. Are you going to tell him?”

  “Would he understand?”

  “He understands if you want to eat, you have to work.”

  “Is he besotted enough to let her push him around?”

  “As I said. He’s like a big, happy dog. He might not even notice her yapping at him.”

  “I think your niece needs a wakeup call.”

  “Maybe you’re the woman to deliver it.”

  “Maybe I am. Frankly, I doubt it.” I sighed. “I think I want to get to know Bick-nick better. He seems like the kind of boy I’d like, if I liked boys.”

  She smiled. “I suspect Princess Lásenalta would have something to say about that.”

  “I imagine she would.” I took her arm and got us moving back to the table.

  When we arrived, everyone was laughing, but I didn’t ask what it was about. I released Lar, and we took our seats again. Bick-nick looked at me with a goofy smile then glanced over his shoulder to where we’d been standing. His smile widened. “Are you done talking about me?”

  “Lar says you’re a very practical man, Bick-nick, and from the looks of things, there is something we have in common.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Joy.”

  His grin widened. “I like people. Larien told a story.”

  Larien spoke rapidly, far too quickly for me to follow, even after all these years, but I caught enough to realize she was begging him not to tell me the story she’d said.

  I laughed. “Would I be embarrassed, Bick-nick?”

  He looked at me. He looked at Larien. He looked at me. And Larien won. “No.”

  “Good answer,” Larien said. When I looked at her, she was smiling.

  “We have one more coming for dinner,” I said. “She should just about be here, and then we can see what the cooks made for us.”

  It didn’t take more than that before Terél returned, leading a hesitant Tíen. She saw who was waiting for me and tried to balk, but then she slumped and stepped over. Or maybe she stomped over. Petulantly.

  “Tíen,” I said. “Sit.” I gestured.

  “Hello, Tíen,” Bick-nick said, staring at her. Oh, he was gone, the poor boy.

  “Well, I’m starving,” I declared. “Let’s eat, and then we can talk about important things.”

  “Important things,” echoed the aunt.

  “Yes. Life.”

  * * * *

  Dinner would have been strained. I said would have been, because Larien and Bick-nick were like peas in a pod. It was impossible not to like the big man. Maybe he was a cliché, but I found him adorable.

  For a man, anyway.

  Dinner was simple but warm and filling, and if it weren’t for the stress represented by Tíen, I could have enjoyed it.

  I waited until after dinner before I said, “Larien, take Bick-nick for a walk.”

  “Sure.”

  I wasn’t sure Bick-nick wanted to leave the woman he considered his future wife, but Larien is very, very hard to turn away. She waited until they were out of earshot, but then Lar said, “I can’t believe you went running to the High Priestess. She has more important things to do that worry about a spoiled brat.”

  “Lar.”

  I waited until she nodded and then turned to Tíen.

  “You said you’d help me! You promised.”

  “So I did,” I agreed. “And you said you were telling me the truth. You said your future husband was an ass. So Bick-nick was putting on one hell of an act for the last hour, I take it.”

  She looked away. “So you’re not going to help me.”

  “I didn’t say that. In fact, I promised I would. I keep my promises.”

  She turned back and flashed a grin.

  “I have talked to your aunt. She admits she’s trying to get you out of her house. She says the two of you fight.”

  “She’s an old hag.”

  “And you’re a spoiled brat,” countered Lar.

  “It seems reports of fighting are likely true,” I said. “And from what you’ve said, you want to get out of her house, so this shouldn’t be hard. We just have to get you out of her house. Isn’t that what you want?”

  “Yes,” Tíen said.

  “Excellent. So far, we’re all in agreement. Lar tells me she put together the best match for you she could. Bick-nick seems like a very nice man, and he clearly adores you.” I waved my finger at her. “It seems to me you fibbed when you said he’s an ass.”

  “Fine. But he’s a pig farmer.” She said the last two words like only a girl her age could.

  “Do you like bacon? I love bacon. It’s one of the foods we had when I was growing up on The Hippa that I still have here and in Framara.”

  “Yeah, I like bacon. Who doesn’t like bacon?”

  “Well, without Bick-nick, or farms like his, anyway, we wouldn’t have bacon.”

  She closed her mouth, having no response for that. So I went on. “I, for one, really ought to thank Bick-nick for all his hard work. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if my breakfast tomorrow includes bacon from a pig he raised.”

  She stared for a minute then pointed to her aunt. “You’re on her side!”

  “I’m trying to help you, Tíen,” I said. “We’re only here to determine the best course of action. You seem to have it figured out. What do you want?”

  “I want to get out of here.”

  “Okay. And go where?”

  “Lopéna.”

  “All right. I can get you to Lopéna. What will you do once you get there?”

  Again she stared, and it was clear she hadn’t thought of a single plan beyond running away. Finally she said, “You promised to help me.”

  “Yes, yes. But you haven’t told me what sort of help you want, beyond delivering you to Lopéna. I can do that, but I won’t do it if you don’t have a plan. I don’t think that would be helping you. Do you have friends there?”

  “No.”

  “So, what do you intend to do once you get there.”

  “You could give me money.”

  “Ah. So you’re asking me for a job.”

  “A job?”

  “Yes. You’re offering to work hard, and in exchange, I pay you money. You then use the money to find a place to live and buy clothes and food. A job.” I turned to look at Está and Níta. “You two have lived most recently in the capital. What sort of jobs could a girl of ten and seven find.”

  “Does she have any skills?”

  “I haven’t heard of any,” I reply. “But she has connections.”

  “With an introduction from you, High Priestess, or from Princess Lásenalta, she could find a position in one of the major houses.”

  “What sort of position?”

  “Housekeeping, most likely.”

  “Scrubbing the entry and cleaning chamber pots. That sort of thing?”

  “Just so,” Níta said. “If she applies herself, she might be able to learn some more valuable skills over time. Ten years from now, she might be able to do something more lucrative.”

  “Well, there you have it, Tíen,” I said. “Níta says I can find you a position as a housekeeper. I presume you’ll work hard. Níta, what happens if she doesn’t work hard?”

  “Oh, they’d give her the sack, o
f course.”

  “How does that sound, Tíen?”

  The girl clearly was no longer pleased with me. I paused and then leaned closer. “Life comes with realities. One reality is this: if you want a good life, you work for it.”

  “I could be a priestess.”

  “Ah, perhaps, but not for our Prestainamatta, and I do not know of any other gods or goddesses worshipped in either Alteara or Framara. If that’s what you want, I don’t know how to help you.”

  “Why can’t I be a priestess for Yahamala?”

  “Because the Goddess takes new acolytes when they are seven years old, not ten and seven. And you wouldn’t enjoy it.”

  I stood. “We leave in the morning, shortly after dawn. If you wish to leave with us, then come back in the morning with a plan. My recommendation is you ask your aunt to help. She might be stern, and she is as tired of fighting as you are, but in spite of everything, and regardless of what you think, she happens to love you, and she wants what is best for you. Lar, I will ask you not to berate her for coming to me.”

  I stepped further from the table and turned to leave before turning back.

  “I do not know if I have the authority to say this, but I have the ear of the King and Queen of Alteara. Unless Tíen learns to recognize just what a wonderful man Bick-nick is, I forbid this marriage. He is a good, gentle, hard-working man, and the woman who becomes his wife should appreciate him, not sneer at him.”

  I spun and began walking away, half my household catching up to me after a few seconds. I made as dramatic a departure as I could then asked, “I presume someone is making sure they leave our camp properly.”

  “Níta and Está,” Terél said.

  “Good. Let us find the Goddess, and then I believe I would like to see what my wife is doing.”

  * * * *

  I have no idea what became of Tíen or Bick-nick. If she tried to leave with us, she was late, and we didn’t hold our departure for her. I have no idea what I should have done differently, but I hoped it all turned out well.

  Three days later we reached the small town of Garsínia’s Ferry, located on the south bank of a westward-flowing river far in in the north of Alteara. There was nothing particularly noteworthy about Garsínia’s Ferry except for one thing: it was two hour’s ride from a small village called Redlarik. And there wasn’t anything noteworthy about Redlarik, either, except that it was the village where Féla’s family lived.

  I discovered this interesting fact not because Féla told me. Nor did anyone from my entire household. Instead, the Goddess did, almost in passing as we rode into Garsínia’s Ferry. She pointed to the ferry, and past it, the road north. “Redlarik is in that direction.”

  “Who is Redlarik?”

  And that was the moment I knew members of my household knew exactly what Redlarik was, as both Larien and Terél’s heads snapped towards me. They wouldn’t have heard the Goddess from her perch atop Zana, but they had heard me.

  “Not who,” corrected the Goddess. “Redlarik is a tiny village, almost beneath notice.”

  “And yet you mention it,” I said. “And I see my household looking nervous.”

  “Perhaps you should ask Resaírelteena the name of the village in which she was born.”

  “Féla!” I bellowed. “Féla!”

  “We told her to tell you,” Larien said barely loudly enough for me to hear.

  “Féla!”

  I looked around. No Féla, and I didn’t see Naddí either. I did, however, see my new maids. “Está, do you know where Féla and Naddí are?” She shrugged, and when I looked at her, so did Níta.

  “I suppose you two are going to express uncertainty where those two might be,” I said harshly to Larien.

  She held up her hands defensively.

  I growled. “You know, none of you can truly hide from me.” I switched languages. “Prestainamatta, do you know where Féla and Naddí are?”

  She cocked her head then said after a moment, “I do.”

  “As do I,” I said, cocking my head and following my link to both of them. They weren’t, however, off to the north, sneaking to Féla’s home. Instead, they had simply managed to disappear in town.

  “You know,” said Larien, “they’re not your maids anymore. You foolishly promoted them.”

  “I foolishly promoted them?” I echoed. “I seem to recall offering you that position ahead of them.”

  “You need Terél and me.”

  I sighed. “Are they avoiding me, slipping off to visit Féla’s family without me, or on an honest errand, and they’ll catch up to us?”

  “I couldn’t say.”

  “Fine.” I wheeled my mount and cut through everyone else, heading for a side street. I got halfway there before six of the honor guards cut me off. “What are you doing?”

  “You should remain with the main body, High Priestess,” said one.

  “That’s good advice,” I said. “Clear my path.”

  “I’m afraid we can’t do that.”

  “On whose orders?”

  “The King’s.”

  I wheeled Hamper and returned to my place beside the Goddess. “Do you have any advice before I do what I’m going to do?”

  “You have choices, Yalla.”

  “I know I do. I could ask you to fly me there.”

  “Oh, wouldn’t that be fun?” she said. “Perhaps you would like to know why the soldiers won’t let you past them.”

  “You know they can’t really stop me, but I’m not sure a pell-mell ride through the streets is a safe idea.”

  “I believe I agree with that sentiment.”

  “Do you know more about what is going on than I do?”

  “Unfortunately, no.”

  “So, should we fly, or should I go yell at the king, or should I see if I’m as good a rider as I think I am?”

  “You have one other choice.”

  “I’m sure more than one, but what is this choice?”

  “Patience.”

  “I find anger and patience are a difficult combination for me.”

  “I have noticed this in the past. Why are you angry?”

  I lifted my voice enough for Larien and Terél to hear me. “The four of them once made a promise to me. And it now feels like at least one of them is breaking it, and it appears like she is doing so with the foreknowledge and perhaps even assistance of the other three. They once all agreed if we were ever in a position to visit their homes, they would tell me. If there is a reason Féla doesn’t want to go home, she should tell me. If there’s a reason she doesn’t want me to go with her, she should tell me.”

  “Perhaps they didn’t know we were traveling so near.”

  “Prestainamatta, do you really believe that?”

  “No. I only offered it as a possibility. Perhaps, Yalla, you should ask yourself one simple question.”

  “What is that?”

  “Do you trust the four of them?”

  I didn’t answer that. “And how do you feel about the guards impeding my movements? As I recall, you’re the one who declared I was free to travel freely throughout Alteara.”

  “Do you trust Mesenorié and Tradódid?”

  That was another question I wasn’t ready to answer right then. I thought I trusted everyone involved. “Why did you point out where we were?”

  “So you could decide what you were going to do.”

  I thought about it. “I’m not going to do a thing,” I said. “If no one trusts me enough to tell me what is going on, I’m not going to beg.”

  I leaned, and Hamper stepped ahead. I rode the rest of way to our camp with no one immediately around me.

  * * * *

  I was hurt. I didn’t know if my immediate family knew what was going on, but clearly my household knew, as did Mesenorié and Tradódid. I didn’t play these games with them, and I didn’t appreciate it when they played them with me.

  And so I ignored all of them.

  After seeing to Zana and Hamper mys
elf, I let others deal with camp. Normally, I would have helped; it was hard to set aside the habits from childhood. But what good was being High Priestess if I didn’t let people take care of things like this? Right? Right.

  Instead, I cleaned off the road dust, changing into a fresh set of leathers. I always felt most dashing in my leathers, and that made me feel good about myself. Perhaps it was foolishness on my part, and it would definitely be a mistake to say I was fixated on clothing. But I felt most confident in these clothes, and that’s what I wanted.

  It took little time to find the Goddess. She was playing with the girls. That wasn’t a surprise. She saw me watching and stepped over.

  “I’m going for a walk,” I told her. “You’re welcome to join me or stay here.”

  “I think I’ll stay here,” she said.

  I nodded then knelt down. Mandi and Nissi ran over. I gave them quick hugs and said I’d see them later. I didn’t remind them to be good. I knew they would.

  I released them, and the three ran off together to join the other girls. I turned and walked perhaps ten steps before I was converged on by, well, nearly everyone.

  “What are your plans, High Priestess?” Mesenorié asked, her tone pretending nothing was going on.

  “I will visit the village. Alone.”

  “Yalla...” said Alta.

  “Oh, I know the ever present guards will be around. I’m sure they’ll keep me from going anywhere I’m not allowed.”

  Alta cocked her head, but she didn’t actually ask what I meant. Well, she didn’t ask me. If she asked anyone else, I didn’t know it. But I squeezed her arm and then stepped through everyone, heading for the little town. Larien and Terél stepped up to flank me.

  “Did you need something?” I asked, not slowing.

  “No,” said Larien.

  I kept walking, and they kept walking with me. When we’d nearly reached the edge of our camp, my guards waiting just ahead, I came to a stop and turned to them. “What do you want?”

  “We’re going with.”

  “Frankly, no, you’re not,” I said. “Go do something else.”

  “We want to go with you,” Terél said. “You might need us.”

  “For what?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest.

  “Yalla,” she replied. “Whatever is going on with Féla and Naddí has nothing to do with us. Don’t take it out on us.”