The Baker's Wife--complete

by Amy Keeley

  But now she could work. She could go where she wished with no one asking for her husband. “What do I do with it?” she asked softly, her hand brushing over the Queen’s official seal. It was real.

  “Keep it in your bag with the book I gave you,” Zhiv said. He sighed. “It hasn’t solved all our problems, but it’s nice to see something go right for once this week.” Taking another bite of his jerky, he sat down in one of the chairs and slouched, eyes closed.

  Krysilla nodded. “Saving the kingdom doesn’t count, I suppose?”

  He laughed. “Point taken.”

  And Lord Teranasin’s gone, she thought, watching Zhiv closely. He still looked weak and tired, more so now that there was time to relax than before. But there was no longer any threat from the King or Lord Teranasin, and the Dogs had been satisfied. For now. They had time.

  “Well,” she sighed, getting up, “I think I should spend my first day of newly free bliss cleaning up.”

  She glanced at Daegan and stopped. His deep frown puzzled her. “Something troubling you, Hon Jixsin?”

  “He’s probably concerned about your title now,” Zhiv said with a grin.

  Daegan shook his head. “The Queen didn’t mention Lord Teranasin. Are you sure he’s dead?”

  “I killed him myself,” Zhiv said, very serious now. “And that dagger never misses.”

  “How did the King react when he saw the dead body? I’m assuming you left it where the King could see.”

  “Vyomsi—or Lord Teranasin, if you prefer it—had been watching the King for some time. I thought he might appreciate the death of someone who deserved it long ago...and that he might be more willing to listen.” The fact that the King had not obviously bothered him. Krysilla could hear it in his softer, matter-of-fact tone.

  “But the Dogs—” Daegan stopped, as if he didn’t want to say what he felt needed to be said. “The royal family knows spells that can reverse the most lethal of wounds.”

  “Relics from the Ornic days, yes.” Zhiv had stopped chewing on his jerky and rested his elbow on the table and his jaw in his palm with an impatient stare at Daegan.

  “Lord Teranasin has been a favorite of the King for a few years now.”

  Zhiv chuckled. “As shown by the fact that the King never showed him who I truly was.”

  “You played cards with him once a month, every sixth day,” Daegan said, his concern growing. “If the King had any intention—”

  “Vyomsi is dead.”

  “And the King followed you into the bell tower.”

  Zhiv shook his head slowly, no longer leaning on his arm. “There’s no reason for him—”

  “The King had no reason in the end.” Daegan obviously struggled to keep from raising his voice. “He built theories out of arrogance and barely connected beliefs. No one understands the rift, no one, even after the Ornic lords first created it. And if the stories are correct, even the Ornic lords who had become Tothsin could hardly discover the spells needed to hold it back. It was a unique creation, never seen before or since. And yet, the King thought he could control it entirely by himself without a single noble to help him. Reason wasn’t part of it, Zhiv. He knew you studied Ornic ways, he knew you would understand what he was trying to do better than even some nobles because of your ancestry. If he wanted you destroyed—”

  Zhiv stood, leaving his food on the table. “The Queen needs me.”

  “Vyomsi would do it, Zhiv,” Daegan said, grabbing his arm. “He’d kill you without a second thought, and if the King wanted you gone—”

  “He wouldn’t send Vyomsi to do that. He’d do it himself.” Zhiv’s eyes flashed, their brilliant aquamarine more pronounced in his anger. He jerked his arm from Daegan’s grasp. “I should know. He tried in the bell tower.” He strode toward the front door.

  “But you’re still a threat,” Daegan said to Zhiv’s back.

  Zhiv didn’t turn around. “He’s dead.”

  “And you’re still alive.”

  But Zhiv was already out the door.

  Daegan clenched his jaw.

  “How likely is it?” Krysilla asked.

  “Who knows?” Daegan shrugged. “It’s just a thought.”

  Daegan was a distant relation of the Queen, she considered, looking down the hall at the front door Zhiv had just went through. But Zhiv, if she understood correctly, had spent every day near the King when he was alive, unless the King sent him to a noble to spy for him. But perhaps that closeness made it difficult for Zhiv to judge such things. “Why would the King want Zhiv dead? He had plenty of opportunities before yesterday.”

  “Zhiv didn’t oppose him until yesterday. Even when he cast that spell on your wrist, Zhiv didn’t interfere.” Daegan stared at the floor, his brow furrowed.

  The King had tried to use the rift to prove to his subjects that there was no need for the noble class. He would then consolidate all power and get rid of a group he considered weak and disloyal to the kingdom and its subjects and Zhiv had stopped him. “Then, to the King’s mind, Zhiv would be the same as the nobles.”

  “Untrustworthy, and a threat to the kingdom itself.”

  Even though the rift could have destroyed all the world. “And as a threat, Zhiv couldn’t live, whether the King survived or not. But Lord Teranasin was never concerned about the kingdom. Why would the King give back the life Zhiv took?”

  Daegan shrugged. “Perhaps he felt they were evenly matched and would kill each other. Perhaps he saw Lord Teranasin’s body and felt it was wrong to kill him.” Krysilla snorted and Daegan smiled. He wouldn’t look nearly as amused if he’d seen Lord Teranasin nick me with magic, she thought, remembering the awful feeling of blood trickle down her skin and the press of a deadly spell against her throat. “Perhaps,” Daegan continued, “it was a test for Zhiv. He said he killed him to prove his loyalty to the King. Perhaps,” he sighed and looked at the front door again.

  “The King called him weak,” Krysilla said, remembering the only true conversation she’d had with the man. Daegan looked at her in surprise. “He said Zhiv was likely to become an Ornic.”

  Anger flashed now in Daegan’s eyes. “Did he?”

  The irony hadn’t escaped her. “Then, the King had considered him a threat for some time. All his time of service, perhaps?”

  “Then the question would be why he didn’t kill him sooner.”

  Because the King had liked him, she remembered. And Zhiv had felt pity for the King and kept from murdering him in revenge for his family’s death. “The King wasn’t a pragmatic man.” She smiled at Daegan, who smiled back in understanding. “That’s an understatement,” he murmured.

  “And as a non-pragmatic man, he would have—” she paused, a terrible thought forming in her mind. “He would know things might go wrong and that someone else would have to take over. It would have to be someone disgraced, someone desperate.” She thought of Lord Teranasin and what she knew of his past. “Someone who might have had a reminder on him, like the King placed on me.” No proof of that, though. Not yet.

  “That sounds rather pragmatic, actually,” Daegan said. Brows furrowed in thought, he added, “There’d be Dogs to watch over him. He might make Lord Teranasin think he’d bought their loyalty, but the Dogs’ true loyalty is to the King.”

  “Can they be bought?”

  “Only when the King wishes it.” Daegan’s sad smile made her wonder what he’d seen. “But Lord Teranasin had more clout than you. I doubt he was bound.”

  “He wasn’t always powerful.”

  Daegan’s eyes narrowed. “You think the King bound him before he was accepted?”

  “Zhiv introduced them. And if Lord Teranasin was desperate enough, I think he would have accepted anything, expecting to find a way out of it once he was strong enough.”

  “Lord Teranasin in charge of us all,” Daegan mused. Krysilla remembered those cold amber eyes and shuddered at the thought. She’d much rather have Zhiv in charge, though that would never happen. That ma
de her think of how much he had already sacrificed for them, and of how quickly he’d lost his appetite earlier. “Hon Jixsin,” she hesitated, knowing how this would look, and yet, she knew Zhiv was in far more pain than he would admit. “Hon Jixsin, I wish to visit the castle this afternoon.”

  He sighed through his nose. “To see one of the servants?”

  “Yes. How would I do that?”

  “Go to the servant’s entrance—it’s on the eastern wall, not the south where we entered—and tell them the name of the one you wish to visit. They will relay your request to the one you’ve named who will then either accept or decline. You go in, you visit.” Daegan looked hard at her. “You can’t do much for him when he’s like this.”

  “Doesn’t matter. As long as—” she didn’t know how to finish what she wanted to say. As long as she could be near him? As long as he knew someone cared? He’d just lost a friend, no matter how strange their friendship, and from what he had told her, a friend was a rare thing in his life. “He’s still not fully recovered,” she finally said. “He needs someone to make sure he doesn’t push himself too far.”

  Daegan nodded. “Why not go now then? I managed just fine before you got here.”

  “I noticed,” she said with a raised eyebrow at the clean house surrounding them. She’d known from the moment she entered that she wasn’t truly needed as his housekeeper.

  “Go then,” he jerked his chin toward the door. “Last thing we need is Zhiv collapsing.” As he walked away, she could see remnants of his earlier concern growing in his eyes, even as he went back to work. He truly was too much like Lejer, and yet far more honest and kind. She smiled, and got up to put away her certificate of divorce before she left the house.

  Though she knew it was no different than when she woke up this morning, her room seemed brighter somehow. It shouldn’t, she thought. Her sister was leaving with her beautiful niece. Lord Teranasin might still be alive and eager to see them all dead at the hands of the Dogs. Zhiv was still reeling from the death of a man he both hated and cared for. And here she was, thrilled that she would be able to switch from one item of clothing to another. It was more than that. She knew it. But it seemed so small a victory right now.

  And yet it’s still a victory, she thought as she placed her divorce certificate in her sack, next to the mug that marked the day she met Zhiv and the lock that had become a symbol of her initial change. “I am no longer Krysilla Gillasin,” she whispered, and yet it didn’t feel real. Seven years of wearing the blue sash that marked her status as his wife made it difficult to see any other future than a return to Lejer and a life of feeling inadequate, no matter how hard she worked. Pulling her extra blue sash into the open air, she felt it in her hands. “Zhiv would probably want to burn you,” she said with a smile.

  Daegan’s heavy step that was too much like Lejer’s made her close her sack with a speed that made her frown when she realized why she moved so quickly. “Goodwife,” he said, with a hesitance that Lejer had never shown, “would you come with me for a moment?”

  Puzzled, she went into the hall, and grew even more puzzled at the apology in his face. “Zhiv would probably want me to wait until he came back so that he could explain it himself. He’s the one who created it. But, if Lord Teranasin is still alive, it would be wise for you to know this before you left the house again.” He held out what looked like a map, a large one, she guessed, based on its numerous folds. When she opened it (and it was indeed large), she saw it was the one she had found in the secret room. “In case we’re separated,” he said, “this will show you where to go.”

  “Zhiv said he had modified the spell for his bag.” She laid the map on the floor of the hall. Daegan crouched down and began gesturing to each dot as he explained.

  “We have three means of escape if things go wrong. The red is for the bags that Zhiv mentioned. One is at the castle. The other is here,” he pointed to the place in the mountains where three dots, red, blue and green, all vied for the same spot. “He has a few others, as you can see, but not many. This for an escape where we aren’t followed. If the Dogs try to follow you, you must use as little magic as possible. They can track that. Zhiv was planning on making you a pair of boots that could carry you fast enough to give you a head start, following the blue dots from the castle to here.” He pointed at the convergence once more. “The Dogs don’t know how to make those boots anymore, he says. But if he hasn’t made them in time, just try to head for this point,” he pointed to a cave on the map, marked by a blue dot. “Run as fast as you can, travel with a caravan, however you want to do it so that you don’t stand out and can move quickly. But don’t use any magic if you can help it, and don’t carry anything with you that would reveal you in a sweep. Zhiv and I will meet you there.”

  She thought of her sister and her niece. “What about Nitty and Tira? If I leave, and he’s alive, Lord Teranasin will—”

  “If the Dogs are after you, you need to only concern yourself with you. It’s risk enough, asking you to wait for Zhiv and me. The only reason we ask is because there’s strength in numbers and because Zhiv knows the area near our destination best of us all.”

  She looked at the mountains, labeled The Steps of the Blessed Ones on the map, and said, “Okya Valley was near this place, wasn’t it?” She ran her fingers over the place where the three dots converged.

  “It’s on the other side of the range, further north.”

  So far away, she thought. It would take many days, perhaps months to travel to the place where the dots converged. How could minstrels be such a threat if they were across the mountains? “Did Zhiv’s family travel?”

  “You’d have to ask him. I know there are a few of the minstrels from Okya Valley who became very famous. It was known for producing the best voices, as well as the best fiddlers and drummers.” Daegan stood. “I know I’m keeping you, but I thought you might want to take this with you. Just in case.”

  “Thank you.” She carefully folded the map and paused before she entered her room again to put the map with her certificate. “Daegan?”

  He paused at the top of the stairs. “Yes?”

  “If Lord Teranasin is alive, how long do we have?”

  He shrugged. “Weeks, days...hours. Perhaps less than that.”

  “Then, I’d best take my things with me.”

  “It might be wise.”

  She nodded. “I need to find a new sash anyway.” White to show she was unattached, with a black border to show she had once had a husband. Like the Queen’s. Except her husband wasn’t dead.

  He didn’t say anything to that, simply nodded and descended the stairs. Putting the map in her sack that she’d brought with her from Lejer’s home, she slung it over her shoulder and made her way to the castle. Best to start there, she decided. If Lord Teranasin was alive, Zhiv shouldn’t be pushing himself in any way.

  The walk there was pleasant. In the city, the only sign that anything had changed were the grumbles of confusion she heard that the rift hadn’t rung out the time yet. Speculations drifted now and then across the streets on when the Queen would fix it.

  She thought of Zhiv blasting out the face of the clock, of the explosion that had almost killed them all, and knew it would be a long time before the clock chimed again in the city. “Perhaps,” she heard someone say, “they’ll bring out the old sundial.”

  She stopped at that. “What did you say?” she asked the old man who had said it.

  “In the old days,” he said, but the woman he’d been speaking with scoffed.

  “You want the Dogs to bring you in for blasphemy?” she said.

  “It’s just time-telling.”

  “It’s sun worship, and the Queen won’t stand for it.”

  “Look,” he said and made a circle with his hands, “all you do is follow the shadow of the sun. That’s your time-telling right there.”

  “And what if the sun isn’t shining?” a younger man who had grown interested in the conversation said
.

  “It’s sun worship,” the woman said, growing more agitated. “Before long, we’ll all be bowing down morning and evening to the sun, just like the Ornic did, when it doesn’t do a thing for us.”

  Did they do that? Nothing she’d been told had said that. Seeing an argument about to begin, Krysilla kept walking toward the castle. Besides, Zhiv was the best source of information on what the Ornic once did.

  Following Daegan’s general instructions, she came across a place in the wall that, like the spell on a Dog about to perform an execution, misdirected her eyes. Forcing herself to keep walking forward, she walked smack into the stone wall surrounding the castle.

  “Everyone does that the first time,” she heard to her right and could barely make out a figure who seemed to be standing, ghost-like, both beside her and on the other side of the wall. “Name?”

  “Krysilla...Jyomsa,” she said, feeling nervous using her maiden name. “I’ve come to see Zhiv Mikailsin.”

  She wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw the figure’s eyebrows lift halfway up his forehead. “Zhiv Mikailsin?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you are?”

  “Krysilla Jyomsa.”

  “To see Zhiv Mikailsin.”

  “Yes.” Did he have so few visitors? Considering what little she knew of him, she realized this made sense. If no one who knew him as Parlay also knew him as Zhiv, who would come to visit? The few who knew him as both would respect the difference. Except for me, she thought, and hoped he would forgive her for this. He’s been revealed to the Dogs, she told herself. There’s no reason for him to refuse to see me.

  Still, the figure hesitated. Finally, he said, “Very well,” and left. It was clear he didn’t believe her.

  Several moments passed as she waited. When he finally returned, the spell surrounding the wall left, and she discovered she could now clearly see a bend that, when she passed it, led to a narrow corridor that went below the courtyard, closing off whoever walked it from the view of those who walked above. The figure she had spoken with turned out to be a handsome man, broad-shouldered, with light-brown hair and a pleasant, yet currently bewildered, smile. “Krysilla Jyomsa?” he said.