Rook

by Robin Roseau

  “Coach maker,” she said. “My family is one of the two premier coach makers in Alteara.”

  “Oh,” I said. “I had no idea. What was your role in the business?”

  “I could perform many of the tasks associated with our craft,” she replied.

  “How did you meet?”

  “At a summer faire,” she said, “the largest of the summer. Sweets, entertainment, and great armies of merchants and craftsmen hoping to sell their wares. My family held a section with the other luxury goods, and we had four of our models present. I was greeting potential customers and working to prevent sticky-fingered children from climbing aboard the coaches.”

  I laughed. “And was Prodótar a sticky-fingered child?”

  “Well, now that I think about it, yes, his fingers were sticky, but I could hardly have called him a child.”

  “I imagine not.”

  “It was actually Princess Lásenalta that introduced us. He was escorting her, and she wished to see the coaches.” She laughed again. “Both of them seemed more interested in me than the products of my family.”

  “Oh, my. And you were left to choose between them?”

  “I suppose I may have been, but the elder beat the younger to my doorstep the next day, and so I was not forced to make such a choice.”

  “How did your family react?”

  “They thought he was toying with me and were not at all impressed I hadn’t already married the man they’d been putting forth. Prodótar saved me from that fate.”

  “What story are you telling now, Felésartinda?” We turned, and the prince was standing in the doorway.

  “I asked how the two of you met,” I said. “Good evening, Prodótar.”

  “Good evening, Yallameenara. Thank you for coming.” He crossed the room, circled the sofa I was on, and then made a brief bow, successfully picking where Yahamala sat. Then he leaned over and kissed his wife’s cheek. “I am sorry. I was delayed.”

  “Quite all right,” I said. “We were discussing what a ruffian you were in your younger years.”

  “Prodótar was most definitely never a ruffian. I thought him far too serious, but he refused to take ‘no’ for an answer.”

  “Especially once your parents decided I was serious,” the prince said. “When I look back, I feel I should apologize, but then that would mean I had done something wrong, and I refuse to believe marrying you was wrong.”

  My mouth gaped, not only that he would say such a thing, but that I was sure it was heartfelt. “Why, Prodótar,” I said. “Is that a romantic side sneaking out?”

  “He can be romantic,” Felésartinda said.

  “Only because she gave me lessons,” said the prince.

  I laughed.

  “He’s serious,” Felésartinda added. “I gave him lessons. At first he refused to attend classes, but I told him the only chance I’d accept his proposal was if he took my teaching to heart.”

  “And it appears he did.”

  “He certainly did,” she said. “The servants are ready. Shall we move into the dining room?”

  * * * *

  We had a comfortable dinner, which actually rather surprised me. There was a certain underlying tension, and I thought it would come out after dinner. I already thought I knew what they wanted, but I would wait and avoid jumping to conclusions.

  We ate. We talked, and then we retired back to the sitting room. Prodótar offered libations, and that was when Larien and Terél declined. “We know you wish this conversation without witnesses. Lady Yallameenara, we will see you later.”

  “Of course,” I said. I made a point of hugging them both, and then we watched them slip from the room.

  Prodótar then handed me a small glass filled with an amber liquid. I sniffed at it and smiled. “You remembered.”

  “Father served that to you a year ago; you seemed to appreciate it.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “Is this a sitting conversation?”

  “I believe so.” He gestured, and we took seats, the Goddess and I on the sofa, the two of them in chairs, close enough to clasp hands.

  “We will not waste time,” Prodótar said. “We have one son. We have tried to produce more children. Felésartinda became with child twice, but they were both lost very early.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Could our Prestainamatta tell us if there is something wrong?”

  I turned to her and translated everything. She nodded. “I will need your assistance, Yalla. You already know what to do.”

  I nodded and slipped from the sofa, moving to kneel before the princess. “I must touch you, and it is very intimate.”

  “How intimate?”

  “Exceedingly,” I said.

  She nodded and took Prodótar’s hand. We were all dressed somewhat casually, making this possible. Otherwise, I would have needed her to partially disrobe. As it was, I could slide one hand here, and the other hand... there. She opened somewhat for me, and I cupped her.

  That was when the Goddess added her hands, and I felt her magic flowing through me. This time, I couldn’t have duplicated what she did, nor did I understand what she discovered, but she had me move my hands several times before she withdrew, and then I did.

  Yahamala pulled me back to the sofa and leaned against me. “Yalla, when you come for the winter solstice, come to me first, and afterwards we will together travel to Lopéna so that we may check the child.”

  “She is now with child?”

  “Oh, no. I imagine that will take a little time yet this evening. Yalla, if this goes well, then all are happy. If there are more troubles, we can try again, but then you must remain here, so we can watch over Felésartinda. I would rather you were to remain here after the solstice, but Lásenalta’s child should be born in Marport, and I would not have you away from her during such an important time. Perhaps do not say all that. Say only that the two should now spend the evening, and congratulate them for both of us.”

  I nodded then turned and smiled. “Prodótar, I hope you had no plans away from home for the remainder of the evening. Your wife requires your attention if you wish a new child.”

  They both began smiling broadly.

  “It would be more appropriate to say this tomorrow,” I added. “But from both of us: congratulations.”

  “Lady Yallameenara!” Prodótar said. “Thank you!”

  “Yalla,” said the Goddess. “This child will carry long, straight, black hair.”

  I turned to her. “Will you claim her?”

  “I do not wish you to tell them, but if they ask for more children, then I may claim one. Before Darnisom, I have not taken one from the royal family for a half dozen generations, but I feel perhaps I would like the sister of the future king of Alteara.”

  “All right.”

  “Now, I want you to ask about Tríaperiláti, and then it is time for them to be alone.”

  I turned back. “Prodótar, our Prestainamatta asks about Láti. Has a solution been discovered?”

  “Not yet. The politics are complicated.”

  “Have you discussed this with your wife?”

  “Is this the pregnant soldier?” asked the princess. I nodded. She smiled. “Clearly, he has. He was worried what I would believe. My Prodótar is a good man and would not hurt me, but I know what rumors would occur if he took too active an interest.”

  “It is not so simple as sending her elsewhere,” said the prince. “She holds a position in the royal guard. There are no more prestigious positions for her. If we send her away, and then she becomes obviously pregnant, it will look like she ran from the capital in disgrace.”

  “Ask if he feels a solution is possible,” said the Goddess, after I translated. “If not, then ask if I may assume responsibility.”

  I relayed that, and he said, “If our Prestainamatta wishes to propose a solution, I would love to hear it.”

  “No,” she said. “Either he is handling this, or I am.”

  I repeated that
and added, “She seems quite firm on the matter.”

  “Anything she will do is better than what I can do,” he said.

  “Do we need to ask your parents?”

  “Only if you attempt to promote her to ambassador or something,” he said with a smile.

  “That is not my intention. Tell him to have her sent to us. Tonight. Not himself. He must remain here.”

  I repeated that, and he nodded.

  * * * *

  “There is something I wish to teach you,” Yahamala said. She took my hand and pulled me through the palace corridors, both of us laughing. We arrived at our quarters and found only Está and Níta waiting.

  “Should I send them away?”

  “No,” she said. “We can practice on them. This is not something I often teach. I believe the last was eight generations before you.”

  “Would you care for a bath, Lady Yallameenara?” Está asked.

  “Not tonight,” I said.

  “Ask them to volunteer for a secret mission.”

  I laughed and did that. They both stepped forward and grinned. “Do you wish us to spy on someone for you?”

  “I don’t believe so.”

  “Yalla,” said the Goddess. “It is not often, but at times, I claim an adult.”

  “I have seen.”

  “It is done very, very carefully. She must know of me and feel me in her heart, and I must have a special need.”

  “I understand.”

  “I have taught you how to look into someone’s heart. This is something you must only do with permission. And now, I will teach you how to claim a new priestess in my absence. This must be done only with the greatest of care, Yalla. The greatest, greatest of care, and never against her will.”

  “Never,” I said. “But will you now claim Está and Níta?”

  “No. You will begin the process with one of them, but you will not finish, and her hair will return to normal by morning. I want you to tell them I am teaching you, and ask them to play the part, and then I will watch, and will help you when it is time.”

  “All right.” I looked back at my maids. “Our Prestainamatta wishes me to learn to claim a priestess. She wishes me to learn on one of you, or perhaps both of you, although it is only practice. She wishes you to play the part of someone I might claim.”

  The two glanced at each other. I have no idea how they decided, but it was Níta who stepped forward. “Start with me.”

  I told her the rest of what the Goddess had said. Then, beside me, the Goddess sighed. I turned to her.

  “Am I doing it wrong already?”

  “I don’t know, as I don’t understand your words. Please summon Larien and Terélmarestra.”

  “Of course.” I felt for them and tugged on the bond. We waited only a moment before the door opened, and then it took another minute to explain to my priestesses.

  “Yalla, I wish you to speak in my words. They will translate for Peralianíta. Begin when they are ready.”

  I gave the directions, waited a moment, and then began speaking, using the Words of the Goddess. I thought about what the Goddess had done in the past, and then I said, “Níta, I would like permission to look into your heart.”

  “What does that mean?” she asked.

  “I wish to see what kind of person you are,” I said. “I wish to know if you love our Prestainamatta.” I paused then said, “Prestainamatta, if I really use this spell, I may see things I shouldn’t see.”

  “I wish you to use the spell, Yalla.”

  “I need to talk directly to her. May Terél translate to you for me?”

  “Yes.”

  I switched to Altearan. “Terél, translate please. Níta, you don’t have to let me do this. She wants me to really use the spell. I would see deep inside you.”

  “I’m not afraid,” she said. “Well, I’m not afraid for me. You may see things that will be difficult for you. These are things I would spare you, but not for myself. For you.”

  “Oh, Níta,” I said. “I am stronger than I look.”

  She nodded. “May I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “Why do you allow so many into your bed?”

  “It is innocent.”

  “It isn’t that innocent,” she replied.

  “It is joy, Níta,” I said, using the Word of the Goddess. “And love. But it is not lust.”

  “Bring Resaírelteena or Naddíqualestra here, ask them to think of how so many share your bed, and then look into their hearts. You will find lust.”

  “Perhaps, but do you believe it overshadows love, joy, or serenity?”

  She paused. “No,” she said after a pause.

  “You have shared my bed a time or two,” I said. “Do you sleep well, in spite of the crowding?”

  “Yes.”

  “And when you wake, are you filled with joy?”

  “Some,” she said. “And some serenity.”

  “Yalla,” said the Goddess. “When you do this, you will see into her heart, but she will see into yours as well.”

  I turned to her. “I didn’t know that.”

  “I will be adjusting the magic I have given you,” she replied. “We are asking her to trust you, and it is only fair that you trust her at the same time. You will not do this casually.”

  I laughed. “You’re right.” I turned back to Níta and relayed that.

  She smiled and nodded. “I would like that, Lady Yallameenara. But before you do this, know that you will find things you do not like.”

  I nodded and stepped closer. “I must touch.” I set my hands in place, and then the Goddess was there. “I will help you this time, and change the magic, but then you will do it alone.” I nodded. “Feel for the magic I showed you.”

  I did, and then my hands began to glow. I felt the Goddess with me, and I felt something change, just a little. Then she withdrew from me, although I could feel her along our link.

  I extended the magic, and I found Níta’s heart.

  “Oh,” I said.

  I saw so many things. There was joy, but it was recent. And I saw hope, but it was tentative. But there were older emotions, bad emotions, and along with them, images.

  I would have pulled away, but the magic held me.

  I saw pain, and fear. I saw death, twice as Níta watched. “Your mother,” I whispered. She didn’t respond. I didn’t know who the other was. I saw more death, some at Níta’s hands, sometimes at another’s, but I couldn’t see whom.

  I thought I might be able to guess.

  I saw darkness and deception. I saw... I saw so many things.

  “Yalla,” the Goddess whispered. “Look to newer memories. See not who she was, but who she has become, and who she wishes to become. Think of those.”

  I did, and that was when hope was strongest, but there remained fear. “Why are you afraid?” I asked. And the answers came to me.

  She was afraid for me. Not of me. For me.

  And then the magic ended. We stood there, and then I pulled her to me, crushing her against me, and I realized I was crying.

  “I would have spared you,” she whispered to me. “Please, Yalla. Never send me away. Never send me away.”

  “Never,” I whispered.

  “Yalla,” whispered the Goddess. “What do you want to do? Tell Larien not to translate.”

  I opened my eyes and turned my head. Then I turned to Larien and offered a gesture that meant, “Silence.” She nodded.

  “I want to save her,” I said. “If we make her a priestess-”

  “She is not ready,” Yahamala said. “The dark times are too recent. The joy and love are too fragile. But she is ready for a promise.”

  “A promise,” I said.

  “I wish you to change her hair, pure white,” she said. “It is a promise for the future, when she is ready. If she leaves you of her own will, her current color will return. You will have a bond, the same as the other bonds. And apparently your little spies learn my words, so
she may learn, if she wishes, but she has more important duties to you.”

  I nodded. “I may do that?”

  “Yes. Talk to her about it now. Terél will translate again.”

  I offered a fresh gesture, and then I leaned away from Níta. “Do you love our Prestainamatta?”

  “I am trying,” she replied. “I think you understand why it is difficult.”

  “I wish to make a promise to you,” I said. I smiled. “This may make your more secretive job more difficult.” Then I began stroking her hair, and I pulled forth magic. I didn’t know where it came from, but I could feel the Goddess.

  “Think of pure white,” Yahamala said. “Or it will be black, but white is better this time.”

  I nodded, but then I focused on Níta’s eyes. “I will do this only with your permission, Níta. But this is a promise. It is a promise of one sort from our Prestainamatta and another promise from me. I wish to claim you as my own, and you will remain mine for as long as you desire.”

  “Yes, Yalla,” she said. “Yes.”

  And so the magic flared. It passed through my hand and into Níta. The magic flowed. Níta’s hair lengthened, straightened. The color faded from brown, streaks of white forming, then more and more as her hair lengthened.

  It didn’t quite reach the length of mine, but it was halfway down her back, cascading over her shoulders, and it was absolutely glorious.

  “It’s white,” she said. “All white?”

  “All white,” I said. “A promise, Níta. Do you understand?”

  She nodded. “I’ve never had long hair.”

  “You take care of mine,” I said.

  “And I will help to take care of hers,” Está said. She stepped closer and fingered the hair.

  I hugged Níta. She squeezed tightly and whispered into my ear, “A promise.”

  “A promise,” I confirmed, “one for all the world to see.”

  She pulled away from me, and then Está led her to my mirror. She set Níta in front of her to review her reflection while standing behind, combing her own fingers through the hair.

  I had never seen them so gentle with each other. I wasn’t sure if they had that sort of relationship, and I still wasn’t sure, but I liked what I saw.

  The Goddess stepped to my side. “I did not know all of that,” she said.