Rook

by Robin Roseau

  “I might be a letch, but I’ve never been a foolhardy letch,” she said. “A few minutes, perhaps.”

  I glanced at Malta and Valara. Valara smiled and said, “I’m fine, Yalla. See what she wants.”

  And so I nodded. Feerie smiled and held out her hand, so I stepped forward and gave her mine. She turned us, and a moment later found us in one of her many rooms. She closed the door behind us, and then we turned to each other. “I believe Wist said it simply: Do me.”

  I laughed. “That’s what you want?”

  “That’s what I want.”

  I didn’t hesitate. I lifted my hands. Feerie set hers atop mine, and I pulled the magic forward.

  I’d always thought she was a fairly simple woman. Oh, not stupid. Not that sort of simple. But single-minded and straightforward. I was wrong. Oh, she could be quite single-minded, but I saw a woman who saw everything, and who acted the way she did more from habit than anything else. I saw the way she saw the women in her life, the women others saw as her conquests. I saw the way she saw me.

  And I saw the first woman, the one who had used her so poorly, who had taken her innocence and then walked away, laughing at her naïveté. I saw a woman who had been desperately trying to rediscover what was lost, trying and consistently failing.

  But I saw a good woman, one who never hurt anyone, one who was a kind, gentle, generous lover. I saw a woman who always tried to do the right thing, although wasn’t always sure what that was.

  It was Feerie who stepped away from me. She dropped her gaze, staring at the floor, I thought perhaps at my feet. Finally she whispered her question. “Am I a horrible woman, Yallameenara?”

  I closed the distance and took her hands. “No, Feerie. You decidedly are not at all horrible.”

  She looked up slowly. “I’m a horrible womanizer.”

  “I didn’t have time to see why you married Jorald.”

  “Did you see Her?” I knew immediately whom she meant, and I nodded. “I hated women for a while after that.”

  “Oh.”

  “Jorald doesn’t mind.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “He encourages me, sometimes.”

  “The prettiest ones?”

  “Frequently the ones who most need what I can do for them. The ones who are lost, or who hurt, and need a night of forgetting. I never hurt them. I don’t, Yallameenara.”

  “I know you don’t,” I said.

  “I’m horrible.”

  “No, you are not,” I said. “But you’re searching for something, and I don’t think you’re going to find it that way.”

  “I don’t know what to do, Yalla.”

  “I don’t, either. But I’m going to make a suggestion. I’m not an expert in these things, Feerie.”

  “I’d love to hear your advice.”

  “My suggestion is simple: keep it simple. Look for love and joy in your husband’s bed.”

  “We love each other,” she said, her tone a little defensively.

  “When was the last time you told him? When was the last time you invited yourself to his bed? When was the last time you sought joy there? When was the last time you realized that you have a gift to be given? But he also has a gift for you, one for you to receive. Feerie, I don’t know if you can ever find what you think you want, but perhaps you can still find joy and remember love.”

  She said nothing for a long time, finally dropping her gaze. “I’m a horrible woman.”

  “No, Feerie, you are not. My words only form a suggestion. But you’ve been trying one thing for decades, and it’s not bringing you what you want. Maybe it’s time to think about what you can have, readily at hand, and trust you will find joy that way.”

  She said nothing but simply stared at our hands, still clasped between us. Then she smiled, somewhat wryly. “Don’t ask a priestess to look into your heart, and then act surprised when she tells you what she thinks.”

  I lifted a hand, pulling it free, but caressed her cheek. Then I leaned forward and kissed the opposite cheek.

  “I don’t know if I can stop,” she whispered. “Half of me is wondering why I don’t seduce you, right here.”

  I laughed, kissed her cheek again, patted the other one, and stepped back. “You’re a good woman, Feerie, and you’re strong enough to be the woman you want to be.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are. Thank you for a lovely evening.”

  I left her there. If she took my advice, she hasn’t told me.

  Visiting and Visitors

  I stood and smiled as Janella entered her parlor. She hadn’t made me wait long, only a few minutes. She returned the smile. “High Priestess. Thank you for coming. Did you bring it?”

  I gestured. There were two copies of my book on the side table beside the chair I’d occupied until a moment before. “I presumed you meant the one, but I brought the other as well.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “I have funds waiting for you.”

  “Thank you,” I replied. We never discussed an amount, and I would discover later she had been very generous.

  Janella gestured to the short sofa. “Could we sit together?”

  “Of course.” I let her guide me, then we sat, partially turned to each other. “What can I do for you?”

  “What’s it like?”

  I thought I knew what she meant, but I wasn’t going to assume. “What is what like?”

  “When you, um. When you look at someone?”

  “Ah. It is deeply intimate. You can see anything you want of me.”

  “Anything I want?”

  “You only have to ask the questions. The answers come.”

  “I didn’t see you ask questions last night.”

  “I ask them silently,” I replied.

  “If you looked into me, what questions would you ask?”

  “I don’t know. I might first ask why you want this. I might ask what you were like as a little girl. I might ask if you are happy. I would ask what sort of woman you are.”

  “What do you think you would find?”

  I thought for a moment and then said, “I imagine I would discover you are a woman who does the best she is able. I imagine I would find good times and bad.”

  “You would see my mistakes.”

  “And your successes,” I said. “But I’d see deeper than that, Janella. I’d see things you may not even recognize yourself.”

  “And would I see the same in you?”

  “Perhaps. It would depend on the questions you choose to ask.”

  She paused and then asked, “Do I have to stand?”

  “Only if you want to. Are you sure you want me to do this, Janella?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Should I be frightened?”

  “If you are planning revolt against the queen, then absolutely.”

  She laughed. “You will find nothing like that, young lady!”

  I smiled. “I didn’t think I would.”

  “Do it.”

  She sat, but I stood, moving in front of her and setting my hands in place. I didn’t wait, but again pulled the magic forth. She was frightened, but then she smiled. “Ooh, you weren’t lying.”

  “Trust,” I whispered in explanation. Then, silently, “Why are you frightened?”

  The answer came: she was afraid of confronting her own past. I didn’t pursue that. Instead, again silently, I asked, “Why did you ask for this.”

  And I saw she was dying. My heart went out to her. I knew there was nothing I could do about that. So I asked the next question: “What do you want before it’s too late?”

  There were things, so many things. A daughter, estranged. A dear friend: they hadn’t spoken in a decade and a half.

  And, not surprisingly, she was filled with her own loneliness, and grief at love escaped. And with it, grief of her own mistakes.

  “What happened to past love?”

  More mistakes. Judgmental words.

  “Prestainamatta,” I whispered.
“I don’t know how to help this woman.”

  The Goddess filled me. “Bring her to my temple, Yalla, with those she has most wronged.”

  “I’ll try.”

  I let the magic fade. And then, like I had Feerie, I leaned down and kissed a dry cheek, then discovered it was no longer dry.

  “Lady Yallameenara,” she whispered.

  I collected her hands and sat back down beside her, but turned to face her. “Where is your daughter now?”

  “She holds lands outside Gessen. Windy Point Orchards.”

  “I know it,” I said. “And...” I cocked my head. “Tarmorleen? Do you know where she is?”

  She looked down, and I saw a tear crawl from her cheek. “I’ve been such a fool.”

  “Do you know where I will find Tarmorleen?”

  “She won’t see me.”

  “Do you?”

  She shook her head. “Malta is friends of a sort with her daughter.”

  “Janella, if I tell you I will send a carriage for you, will you be available? It may be a few days. I will give you the warning I can.”

  She paused, and then nodded. “If you pull that cord,” she pointed. “Narie will be able to show you to the door. She has your funds. For the book.”

  “Are you sure you want me to leave?”

  “I’ll be fine, Yallameenara,” she said, not looking at me.

  I leaned forward and caressed her cheek then squeezed her hand.

  * * * *

  I’m going to skip ahead and then come back. When I returned to the palace, I immediately asked after Malta, then sent pages out to find her. She sent one back inviting me to her office in fifteen minutes. I headed straight there and waited, then followed her into her office, then through into the inner office.

  “What’s wrong, Yalla?”

  “Malta, do you know a woman named Tarmorleen?”

  “I do.”

  “I wish an introduction. Are you able to arrange one?”

  “I can try. It might take a day or two.”

  “It’s mildly urgent, but nothing you need to put first,” I said. “Thank you.”

  She nodded. “Will you tell me why?”

  “Are you aware of the relationship between Tarmorleen and Janella?”

  “I wasn’t aware they even knew each other.”

  “Estranged.”

  She barked a laugh. “And now you’re mending fences.”

  “We’ll see,” I said. “I’d rather she not know before I tell her why I want to meet her.”

  “Are you going to lie to her?”

  “I believe I will refuse to tell her,” I said. Then I grinned. “We haven’t discussed a date.”

  “Parmeed has always wanted a spring wedding.”

  “That works for me.”

  “I don’t want to wait. I’d do it tomorrow.”

  I snorted. “I am not getting in the middle of that.”

  “I wish you would, Yalla.”

  “Seriously?”

  She nodded. “Would you at least talk to her?”

  “Malta.”

  “I know it’s her dream, but life is short, Yalla.” She paused. “I want us to go to Alteara with you for the winter solstice. I want to ask your goddess a favor.”

  I stared, not sure what to say at first, then said, “My goddess?”

  “I want daughters, Yalla. Would she do that for me?”

  “If you come, Malta, the first thing she’s going to ask both of you is whether you hold her in your heart. And you just said ‘your goddess’. Unless you can say Prestainamatta, knowing what it means, in spite of how much you helped me, I don’t know if she even can help you.”

  “It’s hard, Yalla. I’ve seen the evidence, some of the evidence.”

  “But not all of it,” I said. “And will seeing me lifted into the air finish the process for you?”

  “I don’t know,” she whispered.

  “And what of Parmeed?”

  “That’s why I want you to talk to her.”

  “Malta, have you discussed any of this with her?”

  She dropped her gaze. “No.”

  “Malta,” I said reproachfully.

  “Please don’t make me beg, Yalla.”

  “Of course I’m not going to make you beg!” I replied. I huffed. “What else haven’t you told me? Or her.”

  “That’s all of it.”

  “I don’t think so. Who is carrying this first child? How many do you want? How do you intend to be a mother and chatelaine at the same time?”

  “I want your help with that, too.”

  “So there is more!” I said. “And there is no way I have time to become your assistant.”

  “I want you to help me find an assistant,” she said. “I want you to, um, help me interview.”

  “You want me to look into their hearts.”

  “Yes. Fine. I want you to look into their hearts. Do you know how much trust is required to let someone this close to the queen, Yalla? Do you know how many years I’d have to watch someone before I could trust her?”

  “All right, all right,” I said. “I need to pray on this, Malta.”

  I thought she might grow angry or perhaps remind me how much I owed her. I didn’t need a reminder. Instead she asked, “Am I asking too much?”

  “I will talk to Parmeed, Malta, but I think you should talk to her yourself.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Bock.”

  “What?”

  “Bock, bock, bock.”

  “I am not a chicken!”

  “You certainly are,” I said. I laughed. “I’ll talk to her, but I need to ask the Goddess before I use her magic to help you interview. Don’t worry. I will remind her who you are to me. Malta, I won’t do it without clear permission from the people I look at, given without even a hint of regret.”

  “I guess I wouldn’t ask you to.”

  “Yes, you would,” I said.

  She sighed. “I suppose I would.”

  “I don’t blame you. You’re trying to protect the queen and our country. I don’t blame you for doing anything necessary.”

  “I wouldn’t want someone in this post who wouldn’t let you look,” she said. “Right there is a qualification.”

  “So. Parmeed. You want an immediate wedding. At the temple?”

  “Yes.”

  “You want to travel for the winter solstice, and you want to ask for a child.”

  “Yes.”

  “And I am to break this news for you, because you’re too big a chicken to do it yourself.”

  She grimaced. “Yes.”

  “And who is carrying this child?”

  “Her decision. If she does this part for me, then she may choose who carries our children, and if our Prestainamatta-“ I smiled at that. “-can select the gender, then I will support Parmeed’s desires.”

  “I am almost certain our Prestainamatta will insist on a certain percentage of them being girls,” I replied. “I am also almost certain some if not all will wear straight hair, perhaps black as night or white as snow. And I am almost certain I will ask you to let it grow long.”

  “We would be honored if a daughter became one of your priestesses, Yalla.”

  “All right.” I smiled. “Bock-bock-bock.”

  “I know,” she said, hanging her head.

  “I’ll talk to her. Is she in the city?”

  “You might find her at my home.”

  “I see. I’ll send a messenger and see if she’ll allow me to call on her.”

  “And I’ll see if I can arrange a meeting with Tarmorleen.”

  “Mid-morning in the temple, the day after tomorrow,” I said.

  “I’ll try.”

  * * * *

  I headed for my quarters, summoning Larien and Terél on the way. We arrived at the same time, and I invited them in. “I need a favor from each of you.”

  “We’re at your service, High Priestess,” Larien said immediately.

  I told the
m everything that was going on. “I need a messenger sent to Parmeed inviting myself to call on her at her earliest convenience. And I need to send someone to go to Windy Point Orchards outside Gessen.”

  “We’ve been there with you.”

  “I want Tessella at my temple, mid-morning the day after tomorrow. Obviously we can’t force her, but we can invite. I’d go talk to her myself, but if I do, then I don’t know what excuse I have for needing her again two days later.”

  “Perhaps you should rely on the Princess Lásenalta,” Larien suggested.

  “Ooh,” I replied. “An invitation from Juleena would border on a royal order, but Alta can be royalty without making it an order.”

  “I’ll send a page for her,” Terél said. “You can write a note to Parmeed.”

  And so we did that. In my careful hand, my note was completed and just being dispatched as Alta appeared in the door. “You summoned, Darling of Mine?”

  “I did, Princess Lásenalta,” I said with a smile. “I wonder if you would accompany Larien and Terél on a mission for me.”

  “Oh, a mission,” she said. “And so formal at that.”

  I explained what was going on. She was laughing halfway through. “You really made chicken noises at Lady Malta.”

  “Entirely justified chicken noises,” I said. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

  “I believe I would. Of course I’ll help, but I believe I wish to take a carriage.”

  * * * *

  Parmeed didn’t allow me to call on her; she came to me. I was alone in the palace temple when the door opened. I stood and smiled. We embraced briefly, and I said, “I would have come to you.”

  “And yet, I had an opportunity to visit the palace.”

  “I’m glad you could come.” She’d been to the temple before, but I showed her around for a minute, anyway, before we took seats.

  “Where are Larien and Terél? I rarely see you without them.”

  “They are on an errand with Alta,” I replied. “I’ve had a busy day. I wanted to talk to you about your wedding.”

  “Shouldn’t Malta be here?” she asked immediately.

  “Malta asked me to have this conversation without her.”

  Her face fell. “She doesn’t want to marry me after all.”

  “Quite the opposite, actually,” I said. “Entirely, completely the opposite.”

  “Oh. Really?” She was cute. She’d grown since we had dated, but I knew she’d always be shy at large gatherings. In person, however, she was brilliant, witty, and quite cute.