by A D Lombardo
They walked hand-in-hand through the trees and down the small hill. The wet snow clung to his boots, soaking the leather. The cold never bothered him until today—now it seemed like everything added to the guilt he carried.
When they reached the road, he looked both ways; no riders approached. Every moment they could go without seeing anyone felt like a gift, much like the persistent storm clouds. If he did not know better, he would swear they were the handiwork of a Weathervane, an advantage to conceal his movements. But could I be so lucky?
“There are two cemeteries,” Kai pointed as they veered right at the fork in the road. “This older cemetery is rather large since the Battle of Port Anahita and the many casualties buried after the fight.” At least, he hoped that would be the case.
She nodded. “Agreed. We should go there first, because it is the most likely candidate.”
Over the next crest, the rolling cemetery hillside came into view. At the gates, they saw Diu soldiers stopping mourners, lifting cowls and hats. Others ordered cemetery workers to dig up and open freshly interred caskets while they poked around at the remains. The macabre scene of disturbing the dead made Kai’s skin crawl.
What are they searching for?
No sooner did he think it than it hit him. These men were searching for the same thing he was—Iver.
Rayna pulled him down another path away from the cemetery. “What do we do now?”
“We cannot risk these men being able to identify me.” He answered her question, and then asked his own. “Do they really think I stashed my father here? They must. Why else would they search the dead?”
Rayna’s stomach grumbled. Kai turned and motioned toward the left. “You need food, and we should get disguises. Maybe we can get some information from the locals.”
“Disguises?” Rayna squeezed his arm. “Do you believe anyone would recognize me? You certainly, but I am nobody.”
At first, Kai thought Rayna might be right; maybe he was over exaggerating their notoriety. Around the next bend in the path, they neared an outlying building. There was a large poster with their faces sketched in vivid detail pinned to the whitewashed wood next to the image of the King. It was labeled—murdered and missing. There was no denying they were wanted criminals and Nola was searching for them both.
Given the extensive distribution of wanted posters, he began to wonder if their trip was a fool’s errand. And yet, it made him wonder if Nola had soldiers searching for Iver; there was still a chance Kai could find his father first.
Like any good spy, Kai had to acquire the necessary items to disguise their identities. The idea of stealing left a hollow pit in his stomach, but then Riome would say it was the life of a spy. In service to the King, she saw it as a small price to pay by the citizens. He found ground coffee and black tea from one establishment, and from another, he borrowed—to use her term—white flour.
“We need cloaks,” Rayna recommended. “I found a shop across the street, we may find something there that fits, but there are several patrons, and I am no thief.”
“I have an idea, but it will take both of us.” He suggested. “If you can provide a distraction, I might be able to get what we need. Touch as many things as possible and pick a few small items. The owner will be drawn to watch you, even if he is helping others.”
She agreed and together they entered a fashionable furnishing shop. Kai kept his hands in his pockets and one eye on the owner as he searched the aisles for patrons. The elderly owner polished his thick spectacles, ignoring him in favor of an attractive blonde woman inquiring about her order.
Deeper in the shop, Kai noticed two women, one slender and poised, her nose held high as if the air was better above the petite waif unfolding a bolt of pink flora silk for the woman to inspect. Beyond the wool racks, he spotted a black fabric drape concealing another room. He gleaned the back room and found it empty.
With one quick look he spotted Rayna, she gently refolded a delicate lace sample before dipping her hand in a large bowl of glass beads. Her eye sparkled with delight as she pulled a large coin-sized red bead to hold up to her eyes.
Satisfied the coast was clear, Kai gave one final glance around the shop before slipping behind the partition. The space was rather large, with wire bodices on posts, bolts of material stacked on the table, and scraps of fabric littering the floor. One wall of the workroom had spools of thread and a variety of colored ribbons. Beside the desk, there was a series of wooden slots filled with what appeared to be sheets of paper. Curious, he pulled one out; the image was a detailed sketch of a dress with measurements in the margins along with various notes about the design. Lady Crutchfield's name was scrolled across the top.
Worried that he had left Rayna alone too long, he returned the sheet and rifled through the coat rack near the back door. There were five cloaks. He took the black fur-trimmed one for himself and a smaller navy coat with white fur for Rayna. Hearing voices, he ducked out the back door into the alley. Before he reached the corner, Rayna stopped him.
She jutted her head back the way she’d come. “We cannot go back to the main street; Diu soldiers are there. There is a spice shop this way.” She motioned to the left. “You mentioned we still need oil and colored powder.”
Kai knew stealing from a spice house was extremely difficult. Most spices were kept in jars, barrels, or boxes, precisely measured upon purchasing. Shame was a most unpleasant emotion, and stealing the spices felt wrong, no matter how much he needed them. Spices were costly, and the two women he robbed had not gone a block from the shop before he lifted the items. As natural as breathing, he lifted brown and red spices from one woman’s bag and oil from another’s basket as he slipped through the crowd undetected.
Two alleyways later, in an empty loft overlooking the stables, he sat next to a bright six-panel window. The afternoon sun bathed Rayna in golden hues. He worked the flour strategically into Rayna’s hair and eyebrows, changing her dark brown waves into a naturally aged gray around her face.
Over a small metal pale, he crushed the coffee and tea with his hands and added a few drops of oil. He rubbed the mixture on their hands and faces, giving them both a dark brown hue. The other spices he had Rayna rub through his sandy-blond hair.
An essential trick Riome taught him involved tattoos, age marks, and scars. The details mattered more now than ever. He added age spots and two birthmarks to Rayna's face using charcoal bits from the stable’s wood burner and ground coffee. He went more drastic to his face, with a dark birthmark beside his eye and a reddish-purple scar along his cheekbone.
Suitably transformed, they strolled into an outlying tavern. Inside they lowered the cowls on their hoods. The patrons did not give them a second look as they took the last empty table in the corner. The establishment benefitted greatly from the bay of windows catching the midday sun and the crackling stone fireplace on the opposite wall.
When the barmaid approached, Rayna placed all the coins they had on the table. “Two meals and some ale, please.”
The barmaid took all her coins but one. “You’ve only enough for the meals and one ale.”
Rayna nodded in acceptance. Moments later, the woman returned with two steaming bowls of hearty beef stew and a hunk of bread, and one cup of ale.
Excessive hunger does strange things to the stomach. The smell of spices and beef drifted to Kai’s nose. He knew he was hungry, but he could not bring himself to eat the meat in his bow. He dipped the bread into the stew and nibbled on the vegetables. Meanwhile, he gathered information. Focusing from table to table, reading lips, and listening to those nearby, he learned a great deal.
Unable to eat another bite, Kai pushed back his bowl. “We should go if you are ready.”
Rayna nodded and started to rise but sat back down. “My goodness, it cannot be.” Rayna nudged Kai’s foot with her own. “I know that woman. She used to help in my parent’s bakery here in Port Anahita—her name is Gretta.”
Gretta was a round woman, as mo
st good bakers should be. Her gray-streaked auburn hair, pinned in a loose bun, sat like a plump pillow atop her head. Kai decided her pale complexion meant she did not spend much time in the sun, and her thick glasses and callused finger meant she spent hours reading and writing.
Taking note of them, Gretta approached. Rayna grabbed Kai’s hand and squeezed. “Just breathe, the woman cannot possibly recognize you,” he assured her. “She has not seen you in years, and I do good work. It may not up to Riome’s standards, but even I would glance by without knowing it was you.”
They watched Gretta walk straight to their table. Her glare was soft yet suspicious. “My dears,” the older woman smiled sheepishly, “I hate to be so bold, but you appear to be leaving. Could I have your table?”
Rayna nearly knocked her chair over as she bolted upright. “Certainly, madam, we are leaving. Here, please, have my seat.”
Confident the woman did not recognize either of them, Kai leaned toward Gretta. In his best Bangloo accent, he asked. “I am new in town. If I may ask, who are the Diu soldiers searching for?”
Gretta’s eyes swelled in surprise, and her hand wrapped around Kai’s arm as she pulled him into the seat beside her. “Let me tell you, dear.” She leaned in close enough Kai could smell her rose perfume. “Our once beloved Prince Kai has murdered his father, our beloved King Iver Galloway, in his bed. I heard he escaped prison, killing four guards and maiming three others.”
That’s a lie, Kai thought—or at least he hoped it was a lie. There was no telling what happened after Keegan knocked him out and abducted him. His father quite possibly could have murdered countless people breaking him out of prison. Curious about what else Gretta knew, he continued to listen, hoping to learn something useful.
“Now, I would never believe it possible of the young man, but the word is, the Queen witnessed the whole thing. Word is he claimed innocence to his jailors, but when questioned by the King’s council, he did not even defend himself.”
Kai wanted to tell her it was not his fault, that there was more to the story than she knew. “Maybe the Prince was in shock? His father did die, after all. Perhaps he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“I suppose you’re right, but why did he run? And now the King’s body is missing, as is the Prince. They say he had an accomplice. Someone else in the palace helped him. The news I heard this very morning, the Grand Duke is questioning Prince Seth about the escape of a maid who is said to be close to the children, a Katori woman. It seems Prince Seth was lurking around the entrance to the dungeon the night before.”
The more Gretta talked, the sicker Kai felt. He wanted to leave, but her firm grasp and incessant whispers pinned him to his seat. “Maybe this other person knows what happened, and maybe he could absolve the Prince. I have heard of the Prince’s dedication to his father and Diu. Could he truly fall so far the citizens no longer have faith in him?”
His question gave her pause, and Gretta fell silent as if the idea had merit. “We all loved Prince Kai. He saved this very city, and his Aunt Helena, during the battle for Port Anahita, but he has since taken up with the Katori mountain-people. As I hear, he spent these past nine months hiding away with them and refused to return to Diu. I, for one, was shocked to hear that he even engaged in a battle against his own men in a scuffle north of Baden Lake.”
A scuffle, Kai fumed. Is that what they are calling it? No, it was so much more. And he did not attack his men; he only fought against Milnosian soldiers. Men who deserved his wrath. Before he could speak, Rayna spoke for him. “Thank you kindly for the information, madam, but we really should be going.” She pulled on Kai’s other arm, and Gretta let go with a slight smile and a nod.
Kai grabbed their cloaks and followed Rayna outside. They walked for several blocks without a word. He knew he had pressed his luck questioning the woman, but he had to know what the people of Diu knew about the situation. So far, it was all rumor and speculation twisted with a few facts to make it believable.
The silence gave him time to let go of his anger and frustration, and it also made him appreciate Rayna’s compassion. She did not chastise him for the risk, nor did she harp about what he could have said. Around the next corner, two guards stopped them.
“What is your purpose in the city?” the tall one asked.
“Visiting family who were killed during the Battle of Port Anahita,” Rayna responded in a thick coastal accent as she pointed north. “We are headed to the graveyards outside of town.”
The guards let them pass, and they continued in silence for another block before Kai spoke. “I’d say our disguises work. For a woman who spent years seeing you nearly every day, she had no clue who you were.” He puffed up his chest, proud of his work.
“Well,” Rayna looked up at him and put her hand on his chest, “I would know your blue eyes anywhere, even behind all this brown makeup and dust.”
“Blue, you say,” Kai focused on her brown eyes and felt his change.
“Why you green-eyed sorcerer.” She kissed him quickly and pulled him through the crowded street. “So, what are we looking for? A newly dug grave? Any disturbed ground indicating a recent burial?”
“Well, we should get our facts straight,” Kai suggested. “Before speaking to Gretta, I learned that Diu soldiers started searching for the King’s body the morning after they threw me in prison. Given that Nola’s men had days to search, I am not sure what we expect to find now.”
Rayna picked up the pace. “We have to try, and since we can glean beneath the soil, we may see something the soldiers did not. We should check any that look suspicious or newly tended.”
They passed through the cemetery gates and Diu soldiers approached. “What business do you have here?” the man questioned.
Rayna patted Kai’s hand. Just as before, she responded in a thick coastal accent. “Visiting family killed during the Battle of Port Anahita.” She touched her heart and sighed. “The Wittels and the Moores,” she added, letting her shoulders droop as she leaned into Kai.
The guard let them pass. Out of earshot, Kai whispered. “Are those real people?”
“Indeed,” she responded, motioning up the hillside toward two disturbed graves. “They died in the fires. Good people, both families.”
Her tone felt solemn, and Kai did not ask anything more. He had no idea she knew people who suffered or died in the battle. “I hate to say this, but we should consider separating to cover more ground. I will take the graves on this side if you search those.” He jutted his chin toward the left.
Rayna nodded, and they parted.
Gleaning into his first grave, he instantly regretted the task; it felt like an invasion of privacy. The decaying corpse of a one-armed man made him shutter. The shriveled man had only four teeth and long, stringy white hair.
He did not think it could get worse, but the next nearly made him retch. The grossly swollen woman had foam leaking from her mouth and nose, and he suddenly felt grateful there was no smell from his point of view.
After searching several other graves near the perimeter with no success, he worked his way back down the hill. Two graves were soldiers, men buried with honors—the graves were marked with a white stone carved with their names, followed by their rank and years of life. It pleased him to know someone would remember them and honor their service.
The next site brought him to tears. The young baby could be no older than six months. It appeared peaceful and fresh, as if he could be taking a nap. This one had no name, a forgotten child. Who could lay their baby to rest and leave no marker? He shook his head and walked away.
Wanting to see no more forgotten souls, he searched the hillside for Rayna, hoping she was not struggling as much with her search. He found her walking with two young women between the stones. Their voices carried, but he could not hear their words.
Spotting one last mound of dirt, Kai wormed his way across the hill. Like the baby, there was no marker. No sign of who lay beneath or proof that
anyone cared they were gone. The man inside lay perfect, as if only asleep—just one more dead man—no other signs of a second body buried beneath.
Waiting for Rayna to finish, Kai gleaned as many graves as he could, searching for signs that there was more than one body interred. He also searched for a site with unusually fresh foliage given that a Kodama could hide any newly buried body with new grass. Finding nothing, Kai turned to see Rayna headed his way.
“What did the young ladies tell you?” he asked.
“Their mother died ten days ago.” Rayna pressed her hand to her heart. “They come every day. I asked if they noticed any strangers, but they have not. Although to listen to their grief, they would not notice a purple cow if one walked over her grave.”
The story reminded Kai that he owed Rayna’s parents his life. “Rayna, I need to tell you something. It may be difficult to accept, but I made a promise. When I was on the ship with Keegan, your parents were there. They saved my life and freed me from my shackles. They wanted me to tell you and your sister that they were sorry.”
Although he believed her parents, he could not speculate their truth or sway her to feel differently. “I appreciate the information,” was all she said on the matter. “Shall we check the last cemetery before traveling to Diu?”
Kai nodded and led the way to his Aunt Helena’s home, the Avar Estate, and the small gravesite along the perimeter reserved for noblemen in the port. Could he dare to get that close? By the time he asked the question, the setting sun kissed the hillside and a small group of people. He did not have to glean to know it was his Aunt Helena and Uncle Kaeco.
Chapter 19
Helena’s Pain
Under a large oak tree, Kai kept his distance, watching his aunt and uncle mourn over an empty plot. It seemed strange to him that she would make a memorial for Iver, but then again, he was her twin and their bond was strong. A pile of flowers showed the daily torment of Helena’s pain. She must come every day, he thought, looking at the clumps of flowers in various stages of wilting. He wanted to comfort his aunt, tell her his truth, but she would hate him like the others.
