The Born Queen tkotab-4

by Greg Keyes

  When they entered, she rose and offered her hand. Once they all had kissed it, she bent and kissed Cazio on the cheeks.

  "It's good to see you, mi dello," the duchess said. "All is dark, but you are still a light to these eyes."

  "Duchess Elyoner, I would be pleased to present my swordmaster and mentor-" He realized he did not know the old man's real name. Z'Acatto was the family nickname and simply meant "the cursed."

  "Acmemeno d'Eriestia dachi Vesseriatii," z'Acatto said. "At your service, Duchess."

  Cazio blinked, trying not to show his surprise. The duochi of the Vesseriatii were some of the richest, most powerful men in Vitellio.

  Elyoner kissed him on the cheeks as well.

  "Austra is with us," Cazio said. "She isn't well. I was hoping your chirgeons could help her."

  "Austra? Ill? Of course we shall do what we can." Her forehead puckered in a small frown. "How is it you were not with Anne when…" She didn't finish, but her eyes seemed to glisten a bit.

  "She sent us away, to Dunmrogh," Cazio replied, then caught Elyoner's tone.

  "When what?" he grated.

  Cazio sat on the very bench where he first had kissed Austra and took a deep pull from the carafe of harsh red wine. He glanced at z'Acatto as the old man came up and then handed him the stoneware jug.

  Oddly, the older man hesitated, then took a drink.

  "Anything else you have to tell me?" Cazio asked, trying to work up some anger and finding he couldn't. "Are you actually a duoco? Or perhaps meddicio of z'Irbina?"

  "My brother is duoco," z'Acatto said. "I assume he is. I haven't seen or heard from him in years."

  "Why? Why did you live in my house as if you were my father's servant? Some vagabond soldier he dragged back from the wars?"

  Z'Acatto took another drink, then another.

  "I always told you I did not know the face of the man who killed your father," he said.

  "Yes."

  "I lied."

  Cazio stared at the old man, and his life seemed to stretch out behind him like a rope he was trying-and failing-to balance on. Was anything he knew true?

  "Who killed him?" he demanded.

  Z'Acatto squinted off into the middle distance. "We were in a little town called Fierra, in the Uvadro Mountains. They make a fortified wine there called uchapira. We were drinking a lot of it, your father and I. There was a man; I don't even remember his name. Turned out I had slept with his woman the night before, and he called me to steel. Only I was too drunk. When I got up to fight, my legs failed me. When I awoke, your father was out in the street with him. I was only out for a few moments, so I was still drunk and mean. I only meant to fight my own duel, but when I came screaming out of the tavern, Mamercio was distracted, and the man stabbed him right through the spleen." He looked back at Cazio. "I killed your father, Cazio. My drunken stupidity killed him. Do you understand?"

  Cazio stood jerkily. "All this time-"

  "I did the only thing I knew to do," he said. "I took his place, raised you."

  "The man he fought?"

  "I killed him, of course."

  "You could have told me. You could have told me a lot of things."

  "I could have. I was a coward."

  Cazio felt his heart constrict as he looked at this man he did not know, had never known.

  "This is worse, knowing now," Cazio said. "Now, when everything is all coming apart."

  "What will you do?"

  "Now that Anne is dead? Kill Hespero. Find a cure for Austra. Go home. Why didn't you tell me?" he shouted.

  "I can only apologize so much," z'Acatto grunted.

  "You haven't apologized," Cazio said.

  "Cazio…"

  "Go away," he said, suddenly very tired. "Just leave me alone, whoever you are."

  Z'Acatto got up slowly and stood there, arms hanging at his sides, for a long moment. Then he walked off.

  Cazio continued drinking.

  He woke the next morning, still on the bench, with one of Elyoner's pages tapping him apologetically. He groggily levered himself up to a sitting position.

  "What?" he said.

  "My lady would have you come to her chambers at third bell."

  "What bell is it now?"

  "Second, sir,"

  "Fine," Cazio said. "I'll be there."

  It was only as he found his room and was bathing as best he could from the basin that he began to worry about the place assigned for the meeting.

  When he arrived to find the duchess in bed and Austra on an adjacent bed, his worries intensified.

  "Don't look like that," Elyoner said with more than a hint of her old self. "Every man wants a go with two women."

  "Duchess-"

  "Hush and sit on the foot of the bed," she said, sitting up against enormous pillows. She was clad in a dressing gown of black-and-gold brocade.

  As Cazio sat gingerly on the bed, two serving girls came in bearing trays of food. One was placed in front of the duchess, another next to Cazio. A third servant, a slight girl with large eyes, entered with what looked like porridge and began to feed Austra.

  "Greyna is very good," the duchess said, nodding at the girl. "Her brother was injured in the head at a joust and was unable to feed himself. He lived two years, so she's had plenty of practice. She has a large soul."

  "Thank you for all of your kindnesses, Duchess."

  Elyoner glanced over at Austra. "That girl is as dear to me as Anne was," she said. "She was as much my niece as Fastia or Elseny." She shook her head. "I am hardly thirty, Cazio. I hope when you are my age you have not lost so many dear ones."

  "Austra isn't dead," he said.

  "No," the duchess replied. "She isn't. Break your fast."

  He looked down at the tray, thinking he wasn't hungry, but the cream fritters, sausage, and dewberries invited him to try a few bites, anyway.

  "Unlike Greyna's brother, Austra doesn't seem to have an injury to her head or any wounds at all except those cuts on her legs. You said it was done by a churchman. Do you know what he was up to?"

  "No. She said he said something about the 'blood telling' but nothing about what that meant."

  "Curious," Elyoner said. "In any event, whatever has happened to the dear girl, I think we must suspect some eldritch cause-something I, unfortunately, know very little about."

  "Do you know anyone who knows more?"

  "I assume you mean outside of the Church?"

  "That's probably best."

  "No, not really. But surely you do."

  He nodded. "Yes, there's an old Sefry woman in Eslen that Anne consulted."

  "Eslen won't be easy to get into," Elyoner said. "The city is under siege, with Hespero's army camped on the south and Hansa on the north. The fleets have met in Foambreaker Bay, but I haven't heard much more than that."

  "Who rules?"

  "Artwair had declared himself regent," she said. "The logical heir is Charles, but no one wants that charade again. After him it gets complicated; there's Gramme's bastard, Robert, any number of cousins."

  "You," Cazio pointed out.

  "Oh, yes," she said. "Yes, that's out of the question. I simply won't do it. Buts it's actually rather moot, because I suspect Eslen is going to fall, and Marcomir and Hespero will decide the matter."

  Cazio shrugged. "I don't care who rules. They can put a pig on the throne as far as I'm concerned. But I'll have Austra back, and I need to kill Hespero."

  "Kill the Fratrex Prismo of the Church? I'll be interested to see how you do that."

  "I've met them that seemed immortal and unbeatable before," Cazio said. "Most of them are dead now, or might as well be."

  "That's it, then? You're really going to Eslen?"

  He nodded. "If I can impose on you for a few horses."

  "Of course," she replied. "Do you have a plan for getting into the city?"

  "No," he said. "But I'll have one when I need one."

  He rode out the next day with Austra in the carriage
and three spare horses. He didn't bother to find z'Acatto to say good-bye.

  The road took him west across the flat yellowing grass of the Mey Ghorn plain. Clouds scudded across the sky like fast ships until near sundown they piled up and blotted out the stars. The air was wet and cool and smelled like rain when he went to where Austra lay and fed her some porridge and watered wine. She seemed thinner.

  "The Sefry will know what to do," he assured her. "Mother Uun will have a cure."

  The rain came gently enough, and he lay there listening to it on the canvas until sleep at last folded him into her blanket.

  He woke to the morning songs of birds and realized that the sun was well up and he had lost time. He felt guilty for sleeping at all when every bell counted. He gave Austra her morning meal and ate a bit of dried meat. He found the horses grazing and brought them back to the harness. He settled onto the seat and started out.

  It had been a long time, he realized, since he had been alone, his time in the wine cellar at Dunmrogh aside. He wasn't technically alone now, but for all intents and purposes he was. He'd once spent a good deal of his time solitary, and he understood now how much he missed it.

  What sort of man am I? he wondered. Anne was dead. Austra was well on her way to joining her. And yet, somehow, part of him was excited to be in the quiet of his own thoughts, with no one questioning him, with nothing to do but watch the road.

  "Anne is dead," he murmured aloud. He remembered his first sight of her, bathing in a pool in the wilds around the Coven St. Cer. She had become so completely a part of his life, that the thought that he would never see her again seemed not only wrong but fundamentally impossible. They had survived so much together, and for what? For her to die now? Had any of it been worth it?

  But of course, no matter what one survived, death was always coming. There was no winning that game.

  By noon the road was winding gently downhill, and the occasional malend could be seen turning its sails in the distance. He stopped to feed and wash Austra and let the horses go to water. He was just about to start off again when riders appeared on the road ahead.

  He looked about, but it was all open fields. If they were enemies, there wasn't much he could do.

  Oddly enough, the impression he had was that the horses he saw were mounted by giant mushrooms, but as they drew nearer, he saw that they were Sefry, wearing their customary broad-brimmed hats to keep the sun from their dainty skins.

  When they were even nearer, he recognized their colors as those of Anne's Sefry bodyguard.

  He watched them come, wondering what they could possibly be up to. Having failed their mistress, were they now on their way to cast themselves into the eastern sea?

  He counted forty of them and wondered why he bothered to do that. Weren't these friends? If they were, why did he have such a strange feeling in his belly's abyss?

  And why were they flanking him?

  He drew the horses to a halt. One of the riders came forward and pulled down the gauze that hid most of his face, revealing Cauth Versial, the leader of Anne's guard.

  "Cazio," Cauth said. "Fancy meeting you here."

  "Yes," Cazio replied. "Fancy it."

  "You've heard the news?"

  Cazio nodded, noting from the corner of his eye that the Sefry were continuing to surround him.

  "It was a terrible shock."

  "I would imagine," Cazio said. "To have the person you were supposed to be protecting murdered in plain sight with you all around her. How could that happen?"

  "I'm sure if you had been there, things would have gone differently," Cauth said.

  "I'm sure of that, too," Cazio said.

  "Austra is in the wagon, I take it."

  "Why would you think that?"

  Cauth sighed. "Time is short," he said. "I won't waste it bantering with you. I've seen you fight, and I imagine you'll probably kill a few of us if you choose to, but there's no reason it should come to that."

  "Why should it come to that?"

  "It shouldn't. We've come to escort you to Eslen."

  "How nice. I was going there anyway. But why do I need an escort?"

  "The city is under siege. You'll need our help to get in."

  "But why are you interested in helping? I suppose is my real question."

  "We're not," Cauth said. "Austra is our concern. Whether you're there or not is immaterial."

  "What do you want with Austra?"

  "That's nothing to concern yourself about."

  "Oh, I'm very much concerned."

  Cauth started to say something, but then he peered beyond Cazio, and his face wrinkled in what seemed to be chagrin.

  "Not traveling alone, after all," he said.

  Cazio turned and saw, on the hill, a line of pikemen forming up.

  "Z'Acatto," he murmured.

  "Come along," Cauth said, drawing his sword. Cazio drew Acredo, noticing as he did so that six archers had arrows aimed at him.

  "We'll go up the hill and talk to your friends," Cauth said. "We'll explain that there's no need for a fight, yes?"

  "If you insist," Cazio said.

  "Don't forget that Austra will be here, with my men."

  "I won't."

  He marched up the hill with the Sefry. Z'Acatto watched them come, sitting a gray stallion in front of his men.

  "I didn't ask for your help," Cazio shouted once they were in earshot.

  "No, you didn't," the old man said. "And I wasn't planning to give it. I told the men I would get them to Eslen, that's all."

  "Good, then."

  "Who are your friends?"

  "Anne's old guard," he replied. "They've kindly offered to escort me to the castle."

  "Well, good," z'Acatto said. "Then you're well off my hands."

  Cazio nodded. "How was the wine? Did you drink it yet?"

  "Not yet," z'Acatto said. "It's not the right time."

  "I'm not sure there's going to be a better one."

  "You just want a taste of it."

  "I won't deny that," Cazio said. Then he spun and punched Cauth in the jaw, drew Acredo, and threw himself flat as arrows whirred overhead.

  They want Austra alive, he thought, praying he was right, knowing in his bones this was the best choice.

  With a roar the pikemen started down the hill.

  CHAPTER SIX

  BRACKEN HOPE

  FEND DIDN'T HAVE much of his army left, either. One of the Vaix stood behind him, favoring an injured leg. Of monsters, Aspar saw only a greffyn, a wairwulf, and two utins.

  That was still likely to be more than he could kill, but he was ready to try. "I told you you were going to need my help," the Sefry said.

  "Yah, thanks," he said, nocking an arrow to the string of the unfamiliar bow.

  The wairwulf and the utins were fast, though, moving in front of Fend before he could aim.

  "Aspar," Fend called. "If you manage to kill me here or, more likely, if I kill you, what happens to Winna, to your child, to your precious forest? I'll tell you. That knight of Gravio and his twenty men are going to catch her. Probably they'll kill her. Whoever sent them-and I'll bet my other eye that it was Hespero-doesn't have any interest in bringing a new Briar King into the world, not until they've taken the sedos throne and hold sway over everything. You and I have the same interest, Aspar."

  "I doubt that."

  "Doubt it if you want; my offer to help still stands. I can find the Vhenkherdh; you know I don't need you for that. And yes, I'd love to kill you now, but then I would have one less man-or monster, which is more what you are-to go up against this knight with. We need each other. We can settle our differences afterward, don't you think?"

  Aspar stared into Fend's single eye, remembering the sight of Qerla's dead body, remembering the last time they had been in the valley of the Briar King.

  He had never hated the Sefry more, but the geos wouldn't let him fire.

  "Let's stop bloody talking, then," he snarled, lowering the bow. "Let's go."


  Stephen and Zemle floated in the grip of the Vhelny, which, now that Stephen had gentled it, was soft, firm, almost velvety. He had determined that the demon's limbs were more like tentacles than arms. It was still obfuscated from the examination of Stephen's senses; no power he had or command he could give would lift that apparently ancient magic and reveal the creature's true appearance. It was a subtle thing that would take time and perhaps more power to overcome.

  He was happy that the cloud that concealed the Vhelny had no effect on his own vision, however, as they drifted through the delicate layers of clouds and the vista below revealed itself.

  Directly beneath his feet Eslen castle pointed towers up at him like whimsical lances. About that were the tiers of the city and the long, green island of Ynis, held all around by the two mighty rivers and a thousand neat canals stretching off toward the horizon.

  And along the banks of those rivers, beside those canals, were fires, tents, and tens of thousands of men.

  West across a great bay, beyond an awesome many-toothed wall, the Lier Sea was thickly jeweled with ships for as far as he could see.

  "Eslen," Zemle breathed.

  "Have you been here before?" he asked.

  "Never."

  "Nor have I."

  That wasn't exactly true. He had never been to this Eslen, but he remembered an earlier, much smaller one, little more than a hill fort, really, a tiny place trying not to be crushed by giants, its little leaders capering to his will.

  Now it was quite splendid, though. He could hardly wait to see the royal scriftorium. Who knew what precious texts it might hold, unappreciated for millennia?

  But first things first.

  He had the Vhelny set them down on a pretty little hill on the island, where they had a good view of the surrounds, then set the demon to guard them from anyone approaching. They picnicked on salty ham, pears, and a sweet red wine. Zemle was nervous at first, but when no one bothered them, she eventually relaxed and even drowsed.