by R. J. Price
“The definition of a bastard is a child conceived while either mother or father is mated to another,” Av snarled. “And as long as Em lives you will have no say in that girl's life. Mar is Em's bastard, not your bastard. It is Em who dishonoured her blood, and you, by having an affair.”
“Em treats Mar like a black mark.”
“Which is what Mar is.”
“The girl has no life, Av. Em treats Mar as if it is her mark to bear, which is not the definition of a bastard,” Jer snapped back.
“And that is why I went to Em and explained to her that Mar would be eighteen in the fall, and that Em would no doubt want to mate Mar to a lord far from the palace,” Av said calmly. “These lords want ladies who are finished at court, not doughty country trollops who have never attended a social function. Mar is being brought to court to be finished off and you, dear brother, will stay away from her least Em and her whores decide to pay closer attention to you, or to her.”
“I don't like it,” Jer said.
“Em can't live forever—ten years is a long time to sit the throne,” Av said. “No one else has lasted that long in, what, two centuries?”
“I can only hope,” Jer muttered.
“Your mating period is almost up,” Av said, pointing out the fact with a raised finger, then flicked another finger up. “And despite what you say, when it is Em's time you will weep and whine and snivel and go on about how you miss her so much. Just like you did after your year of mating when Em, heavy with child, left you.”
“Fine,” was the growled response. “You haven't dropped the lady, have you?”
Av turned to Jer slowly, then back to the yard. “No, she's been here as long as most of the others, but I never learned her name. Yesterday she was definitely ill, but she still managed to keep up during training. I wanted to push her harder today.”
“Why not send one of the ladies looking for the missing one?” Jer asked.
“I didn't realize she was missing until the ladies were leaving and I counted off the pairs,” Av said, motioning to the gate. “Makes me wonder how many other days she's missed and I've not noticed.”
“Or how often she was here, but was so unremarkable that you assumed you had seven,” Jer said. “Some of the ladies from the coast regions seem like that. They come in, keep their heads down and do their time, then return home without even trying to mate any of the lords. Em's trying to catch them, but they're so good at it that Em doesn't notice them unless they step into the throne room.”
“Ranks?” Av asked Jer.
“No,” Jer said shaking his head. “Commoners all of them. Ranks can't hide from the one who sits the throne.”
“All right, I managed to pick a lady from the coastal area who has no servants and is ill. The coast tends to be hearty, they don't take ill often,” Av said as the wind picked up, bringing the smell of decomposition with it. “There is one thing the coast takes ill with just as often as the rest of us.”
“What's that?” Jer asked, sniffing the wind. “Isn't it late in the year for that stench?”
“Exactly,” Av said. “Everything is wet, water came up through the ground and was even running across it. It's not hard for consumption to spread.”
“Consumption?” Jer said. “We haven't had a case in a decade, Av. Father and Mother made certain all the mines were filled in, consumption couldn't possibly travel this far down the mountain.”
“Maybe they missed one that only spreads in years which are more wet than others,” Av countered. “It doesn't change the fact that we, you and I, need to watch everyone on palace grounds this time of year for signs of consumption. In case a mine was missed, in case the spring floods reveal a vein of the stuff down lower.”
“Signs of consumption,” Jer said, “are watched for by everyone. There have been no reports.”
“Of a coastal lady, those you just told me are capable of hiding themselves, having reddened cheeks, fever, muscle weakness, and exhaustion?” Av asked, stepping off his porch. “If she has no servants, she's a ward of the throne, and she's been here for two months. The steward should know who she is.”
“What does she look like? Maybe I've been introduced to her?”
Blue, that was all Av thought. A shade of blue that was dark and entirely blue, as well as solid. Colours that dark were difficult to recreate at court because paints simply could not catch the vibrancy, dyes could not colour a swatch of cloth that colour. The art of creating dyes was one that had been lost during the darkest years of a generation past.
“I don't know what she looks like,” Av grumbled. “She comes to me like every other lady does. Hair back, but her training clothing is more worn than most and doesn't fit her. Soft voice, yes, I remember her voice was so soft that I had to strain to hear it.”
“That's not a lot to go on; would you even recognize her if you saw her again?” Jer asked.
“Of course,” Av said.
Jer looked thoughtful as he came down off the porch, hesitating on each step. “You can't recall her name, what she looks like, where she comes from, or how tall she is but you remember her clothing?”
“Yes,” Av said, realizing how odd that was.
“What about her breasts?”
“She had a pair,” Av responded.
Jer scowled. “If you remember clothing, do you remember her court dress? Have you seen her at court?”
Blue—the colour flooded Av's senses. He blinked rapidly to clear the image and looked at Jer, wincing as he offered up. “Blue?”
“Dark blue, conservative cut,” Jer said, motioning to his chest to mark off where it ended, “has full sleeves in the older style. An ivory colour piece for the,” he motioned down the front, “what do women even call that? Why is it even there?”
“It frames the breasts,” Av said, motioning. “You ever notice that before? The lighter colour frames the breasts and the darker colour sort of melts everything else into the background.”
Both were quiet for a moment, considering.
“I know that dress, I've seen it and noticed it, but only because the ladies mutter in jealousy,” Jer said. “It's made of an older fabric converted into a newer dress but they want that colour. Em's commissioned a dark purple dress because the dye masters said that it would be very difficult and extremely expensive.”
“Blue isn't a coastal colour,” Av said.
“No.” Jer shook his head, a frown creasing his brow. “Blue is the colour of the vineyard.”
“There is more than one vineyard,” Av said.
“No, the one that used to provide wine for the ceremonies at the palace, the mating ceremony of the queen, and the coronation, the funeral. But they don't have a daughter, especially one old enough to attend court,” Jer said. “The lord just inherited about eight years ago. Any children of the new lord would only be, what, ten, maybe?”
“Let's skip the questioning and go ask the steward,” Av said. “Surely he has a list of all the wards. The time she's spent at court should narrow it down to a handful. Only twenty have come to court in the past two months.”
Chapter Three
Jer and Av stepped into the steward's office as the man glowered at a lord sitting across the desk from him. Very little could bring the steward to anger, less could cause the look of disgust, barely being held back.
“Lord Worl, I will tell you again. I have found no one interested in your father's piece of land. Be happy that you've a piece to retire to, when you leave the court. You've already sold off every other piece of land you have, besides the estate of your bloodline.”
“Which is too lavish to maintain,” Lord Worl said too calmly. “The spring water from my land is said to be quite good, by those who have tried it. Perhaps a brewery, or a winery, would like to purchase the land. It has wonderful sunlight and fertile soil.”
“Bring me a sample of the water, and I will see if perhaps there is someone interested, but I will not partake in selling, only a leasing opportunity. T
he market will improve, we will regain our treasury. One of my duties is to ensure the lords and ladies of the court do not bankrupt their children.”
“As you say, I will bring another sample.” Lord Worl stood, bowing shallowly to the steward. “Thank you, for your time.”
Av and Jer stepped out of the way as the lord left. Jer quirked an eyebrow at the steward who made a face back at him. Sitting back in his chair, the steward sighed loudly and tossed his glasses on the desk before him.
“I've had three complaints about him pushing this magical spring water on ladies at court,” the steward grumbled. “They seemed quite amused when they mixed it with something and passed it off on a rival as tea.”
“Em's ladies?” Jer asked.
“Trying to gain a place with them,” the steward responded. “The rival may have an upset stomach, but suffered no long-lasting effects. What can I do for you gentlemen?”
Av set his hands on the high-backed chair. Jer watched him lean on the chair, then snatch his hands away as if they were burnt. Wiping his hands on his trousers, Av frowned.
“Av here is missing a lady,” Jer said.
“Finally!” the steward exclaimed. “Who is she? I will contact her father immediately. The whole court will be elated. Rumour has begun to swirl that you like your own, and I've now got lords beating down my door for a chance to catch your eye.”
“Not that kind of missing lady,” Av responded calmly, “and refer them all to Jer.”
“The lords?” the steward asked, “or the ladies?”
“What is it this year, Jer?” Av asked. “Lords or ladies?”
“Neither,” Jer snapped at them. “Em's revoked her lover rule, thus anything else would be an affair. I will not repay her in kind, thank you.”
“Lords it is,” the steward said, reaching for his reading glasses. “How much longer are they mated for?”
“Ten and a half months,” Av said with a grin. “Gives me and you time to sort through the applicants to find the right one. I think he'll be off ladies for a while.”
“The matter at hand,” Jer said sternly, glaring at both of them for talking about his preferences so openly, especially when the door to the study was still open, and so turned and closed it pointedly, “is a missing lady who was ill yesterday.”
“May be consumption,” Av said. “Since she didn't come today, I assume she is bedridden, which means she can cause no more damage than she already has. We will need to close the palace. Em and Jer will go to Em's rooms and stay there until we are absolutely certain this is not consumption.”
“Should I leave now?” Jer asked.
“No, because Em will have questions,” the steward said. “Who are you looking for, and why do you think that I can help you find one lady out of hundreds? The rooms are overflowing with ladies being sent to court. I've got three in one room. I've got ladies begging to sleep in the servant quarters, if only to get to court.”
“Well, this one's here, and has been for two months,” Av said.
“Ah, narrows it down—wonderful,” the steward responded. “I'm guessing you don't have a name, or you would go to Lady Telm about her rooms.”
“Telm,” Jer corrected. “Em insists there is a difference between title and rank, even for one of her own rank.”
“Lady,” the steward said sternly. “Telm is inheritor of what was once the palace's preferred holiday spot. Gorgeous land—I holiday there with Em's aunts. Can't make sense of them but they do strive to take care of a visiting body. That makes her a title holder, which makes her a lady. If you mean to tell me your mate demands the master of house be Telm because the woman in question has served the palace for years, then I will do so, but I must voice my disgust at such an act.”
Jer set his weight, readying for a fight, but forced himself to relax. “Just. Please. I've already spoken with Telm, and she doesn't take it personally. Said 'queens come and go, and by the time the year is up there will likely be another sitting the throne who calls me something else. It does not change who I am, nor will it ever.' In that tone she has perfected.”
“The chiding mother,” Av said. “I believe is what you mean.”
“I wonder why, ever, anyone would need to use such a tone on the two of you,” the steward said sarcastically, waving a hand at both of them. “Obviously you do not have the name of the lady you are looking for. Do you have any information about her besides when she arrived at court, or would you like the full list of those who have arrived in the last two months?”
“Well, she's not Lady Earlen” Av said. “Or a friend of Lady Earlen.”
“Wonderful, narrows down the list by about three people. Earlen keeps friends, and then those she manipulates with expert ease,” the steward said, pulling out a clean scrap of paper. “Anything else? Breast size, perhaps?”
“Why does everyone ask that?” Av said.
“Because you are a man who hasn't had a lover in three years,” the steward retorted.
“Blue dress,” Jer said. “You know the one.”
“That one?” the steward growled. “Four threats over contact with the lady, but she is very private, and that dress is not for sale, for any sum. It was obviously made from something older and is very precious to her. She takes such good care of it.”
“What's her name?” Av said.
“Lady Aren Argnern, daughter of Lady Para Argnern whose mate is lord of the Bilgern Vineyards.”
“Coastal!” Jer said, jabbing a finger at Av. “That is a coastal bloodline. Wait. What's that line doing in the Bilgern Vineyards?”
“Lady Para mated, her mate took her name, and after having several children the lord of Bilgern passed away with no heir. Being the next in line, Lady Para's mate was offered the position. They took it. Bringing Argnern from the coast, to the vineyard.”
Av winced. “I remember a Lady Para from my time being polished at court.”
“We attended their mating ceremony,” Jer said. “I remember because mother made me go. It made me decide to propose to Em.”
“Oh, lovely. Let's invite Para back to court and kill her,” Av said to the steward.
“The pairing was made by the throne,” Jer said quickly. “I do believe Mother said something about how they were made for one another. Lady Para's ruthlessness could only be matched by her mate's ambition.”
“Sound like lovely parents,” Av said.
“...Who abandoned their eldest daughter at court,” the steward said. “And won't answer any word about his daughter. I even included the offer of a purchase order, a line under a question as to his daughter's position. He answered the order, but not the question.”
“How is that unusual?” Av asked.
The steward removed his glasses again and dropped them onto the desk. “Most tell me in advance. They wring their hands, humbly beg my pardon, and babble incoherently, as they tell me that they've sent their daughter to court without a coin to her name and they'd do anything else, anything at all, but this is the best hope. This man is arrogant and refuses to answer questions. The growing number of men willing to abandon their daughters at court simply to be rid of them worries me.
“Who knows what background these ladies come from, what their histories are? What is their education, their ambition, if they've any left?”
“Why haven't you brought this to my attention before?” Jer asked the steward.
“I've brought it to Em's attention numerous times,” the steward said. “She thinks there is nothing to the eldest child, who happens to be a daughter, being left at court, abandoned and all but disowned, leaving their next oldest sibling, always a brother, to take their place as inheritor. She cannot talk of equality, then ignore the plight of the growing number of young ladies coming to court.”
“How long can consumption sit dormant?” Jer asked Av. “Could she have brought this with her?”
“All over the place,” the steward muttered to Av. “How has she upset him this time?”
“Mar,” Av said, then turned his full attention to Jer. “No, consumption symptoms appear rapidly after contact with dirtied water. She had to take ill here. Some feel the effects immediately, but in most it could take a few days to a week to set in.”
“Symptoms include?” the steward asked.
“In the immediate sufferers the effects are blurred vision, cloudy thought, headache, and dizziness when standing. These ones need to be taken to the healer's hall immediately. The sickness burns through them as quickly as it comes on. In those who suffer slowly the healers have more time, they suffer the same effects but it comes and goes for days before taking them with fever, nausea, vomiting and muscle cramps.”
Jer watched the way Av trailed off, wondering what symptoms his brother was leaving out. Av had firsthand knowledge of what consumption could do to a body. Jer had been lucky enough to escape the illness each time it had visited the palace.
“Oh dear,” the steward sighed.
“We'll need more healers if this is an outbreak. Telm's been through consumption and lived. She and I cannot take ill again. There are likely a handful of others at court who have also suffered through, but there are too many new faces. Neither Jer nor Em has suffered consumption, thankfully they missed the last round of it. Now that it's back, they are in danger.”
“If Em passes...” Jer started.
“If Em passes, Mar is probably the only one strong enough to keep the throne,” Av countered. “Do you really want her on the throne? To chain her when she's finally free of her mother?”
“No,” Jer said with a sigh. “No, I would not. I will take Em to her rooms and keep her there.”
“Gentlemen,” the steward said, drawing their eyes to him as his cheeks flushed. “I think we need an interim steward.”
“What do you mean?” Av asked, walking around the desk. He set the back of his hand against the steward's forehead. “You're boiling hot.”
“So much for wishful thinking,” the steward said. “Consumption is the only illness to come on so quickly. I felt fine until yesterday when I met with Lady Aren. I dismissed it as being worn out by all these ladies and their stories. Thought perhaps it was time for a holiday.”
