The Curse Giver

by Dora Machado

  “Teos.” Lusielle’s heart clattered in her ears. “Can we run?”

  “It’d be less trouble,” Bren said. “But if we run from Teos’s galleys, we’ll be breaking the code and thus forsaking our river passage rights. This old barge will never be able to outrun those galleys. Two hundred rowers each, in addition to the sails. Ten hook-and-grapple long distance slings to catch us. Three very accurate hurlers capable of incinerating us with flaming spears from a good distance away. Believe me, Teos’s ships will chase after us and have us burning in the water within hours if they think we’re running.”

  “What do we do then?”

  “We’ll yield out of the way as the law requires.”

  “And if they approach us or try to board us?”

  “We’ll just have to hope they’ve got no proof or claim against us that may endanger our right of river passage.”

  What were the chances of that?

  “I think I recognize the lead galley’s standard, my lord.” Severo handed the scope to Bren. “The silver dragonfly.”

  Bren looked through the scope for several moments before he said, “Indeed.”

  “Who’s coming?” Lusielle said.

  He put down the scope and drew in a deep breath. “Hato’s past, catching up to the present.”

  Chapter Fifty

  HATO STUMBLED ONTO THE DECK, STILL buttoning his jerkin. He had been so sound asleep he hadn’t heard the White Tide’s arrival, Bren’s commands, or the commotion afterwards. Damn old age. He had spent most of the night studying the new verses. In the end, exhaustion won out. He fell asleep at his desk, where Severo found him slumped over his papers with the creases of his leather journal embedded on his cheek.

  He licked his palms and smoothed his sparse hair with his hands. Surely Severo must be mistaken. According to Hato’s agents, the Chosen Severo said was approaching at the head of the White Tide procession had not been sighted outside of the sacred island in recent years.

  Hato’s eyes swept the deck as soon as he mounted the last step. Roped together, the barge and the galley floated downriver like entwined lovers engaged in a carefully orchestrated dance. A whole division of Teos’s golden guardians lined the galley’s gunwales facing the similarly formed Twenty on the barge. A twin set of gilded steps had been straddled over the railings. The Chosen stood at the top of the steps, a bedazzling creature, appointed to impress but trained to do a great deal more.

  Every man in the barge took a knee before the Chosen. Everyone except Lusielle. She stood there, staring at the Chosen with open curiosity. It was only when Bren tugged on her skirt that she realized she was supposed to kneel before the Chosen. By then, it was too late. The Chosen had taken notice.

  The Chosen’s predatory stare fixed on Hato. For a moment, he withstood the weight of those eyes, until he realized that he too had forgotten to take a knee. In his rush, his knee suffered twice the agony, first when he forced his joint to bend, then when he banged it against the deck.

  He winced, resenting his aching bones and his heart’s frenzied ruckus. And yet he knew that it was only because of the woman’s potions that he could bend the knee at all. His eyes centered on the floor even as the Chosen’s heeled shoes clicked on the deck and came to stand before him. The sharp points of a pair of bejeweled slippers protruded from beneath the folds of a fine swath of gold-weaved cloth.

  “Rise.” The Chosen’s voice was as soft as rustling silk. The face was just as he remembered, dark and strong, marked by deeper lines these days, but beautiful nevertheless. The luxury of her lips matched the audacity of the exuberant salt-and-pepper curls escaping from her luminous veil. The gray eyes were as hard as a clobber to the teeth.

  “My lord Hato, how many years has it been?” She lifted a heavily ringed finger. “Never mind. That was a dull question. My lord Brennus.” She nodded as Bren approached. “We bid you greetings from Teos.”

  “My lady Khalia.” Bren came to the rescue of Hato’s stilled tongue. “Welcome to our barge. How may I be of service?”

  “Oh, but it is we who might be of service to you,” Khalia said. “We heard your servant Cirillo was making inquiries about hiring a ship for passage to Laonia. We invited him to travel with us. We were very interested in his accounts.”

  With a wave of her delicate hand, the ranks of the golden guardians broke to let Cirillo and his horse through. The man mounted the steps and, leading his beast by the reins, crossed over to the barge.

  “I’m sorry, my lord.” A visibly upset Cirillo bowed to Bren. “The Chosen commanded me to—”

  “You did right,” Bren said. “Take your place in the line.”

  Khalia’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “My lords may remember Ernilda, lady of Barahone?”

  Snowy hair piled atop her head, Ernilda descended from the steps like the sculpted mountainous presence she was. “My lord Brennus.” She extended a flowing hand and smiled as they exchanged kisses upon their respective rings. “My lord Hato. It’s good to see you so soon again. Such a coincidence, don’t you think?”

  Hato bowed, knowing full well that there were no coincidences in the stage of highborn politics.

  “What brings the lady of Barahone to the White Tide procession?” Bren asked.

  “Khalia and I rode our first White Tide together when we were fifteen,” Ernilda said. “We decided to ride the White Tide together one last time.”

  “One last time?” Bren said.

  “We’re not getting any younger.”

  “My lords will also welcome another guest.” Khalia waved to someone else standing behind the guards. “He was in need of quick transport to join his lord at Teos. You may remember Orell, Lord Riva’s champion?”

  Sharp gasps escaped from some of the Twenty. Hato managed to swallow the sour bile surging up his throat. Curse Khalia. After so many years, she too had yielded to Teos’s pressures and turned traitor. Wide shoulders erect, hand on his hilt, Orell stood by the gilded steps, daring Bren with a mocking display of bare teeth.

  Orell nodded ever so slightly. “How’s that hack to the liver coming along?”

  “How would you know about that?” Bren matched the brute’s leer. “Unless you talked to the woman who attempted to kill me right before you murdered her?”

  “Courtesy, my lords,” Khalia commanded. “We must all get along.”

  “If we were in the kingdom,” Orell said, “this man would be executed on the spot for murdering a defenseless woman.”

  “But you’re not in the kingdom,” Bren said. “You’re on the free-flowing Nerpes where innocent men are given a chance to defend themselves from baseless accusations.”

  “We shall address all matters of peace shortly,” Khalia said. “In the meantime, should either one of you engage in violence, you’ll be dragged behind the galley and given to the sacred yearlings for bait. It’s a slow death, you know, as the yearlings bore into your body and feast on your entrails from the inside out.”

  Hato shuddered. Khalia was capable of inflicting such a sentence and worse. He didn’t like the way of things. He was sure Orell had come to stake his claims against Bren and he didn’t trust Khalia, who had so easily agreed to give passage to his lord’s enemy.

  “We’re concerned that a number of claims have been made against you,” Khalia said. “We’ve also heard about the unfortunate events at the seed house in Konia. Word is the heir of Konia is safe and in your care. We came to investigate.” Khalia’s shrewd stare shifted to where Irina, Caryna and little Marcus clustered around Lusielle like frightened sheep. “Are those Lord Arnulf’s grandchildren? Can you account for their health and safety?”

  “See for yourself,” Bren said.

  “You’d do well transferring the children’s custody to us.” Khalia circled Lusielle and the children like the huntress she was. “They’ll be safe at Teos.”

  “I can protect them best in Laonia.”

  “Is there a testament box for the deceased lord of Konia?”

/>   “There is.”

  “Is the box presently in your possession?”

  “The box is safe.”

  “Has the seal been broken?”

  “No.”

  “Teos wants the children,” Khalia said. “Teos wants the box.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t hand over the children,” Bren said. “They are my godchildren. I swore an oath of protection to their father when they were born. They are now my kin.”

  Khalia smiled without joy. “A man in your position would be wise accepting the will of Teos.”

  “A man in my position has fewer choices than most.”

  “Are you so careless as to refuse us?”

  “Careless?” Bren said. “Nay. Careful is more likely.”

  “I should caution you that the penalties for the various claims made against you are very likely to endanger Laonia’s charter.”

  Hato’s anger got the best of him. “What proof do you have other than rumors and ill-conceived allegations made by Laonia’s enemies?”

  Khalia came nose to nose with Hato, staring into his eyes with a furious glare. “You righteous old prick,” she muttered, infusing his lungs with her hot and spicy scent. “Dare you defy the might of Teos? Had we wanted your fumbling lordling’s head, we’d have it by now, along with his balls, this burning barge and the tongues and ears of every fool on it, not to mention your shriveled Laonian ass. The word ‘investigation’ should suffice to elicit an arduous welcome from the faithful, if indeed any devoted faithful remain among you.”

  It was Bren who rose to the task of mending fences, because Hato’s temper was burning too hot. “My apologies, Lady Khalia. My lord Hato is sometimes a bit fervent in my defense. How can we assist in your ‘investigation?’”

  “We should thank the Triad that at least one of you retains your wits and manners.” She turned around and mounted the steps. “Shall we begin our inquiries?”

  Neither Hato nor Bren followed.

  Khalia’s stare darkened. “An innocent man doesn’t fear inquiries.”

  “What guarantees do we have that if my lord goes aboard your galley he’ll be free to return to his barge?” Hato said.

  “Guarantees?” She laughed. “The only assurances your lord has are in his soul.”

  “Then I can’t permit my lord to leave this barge.”

  “What is it you want?” Khalia said. “Old feuds revived? The past prevailing over the future? Highborn blood tainting the Nerpes and Laonia’s charter stripped off the ranks?”

  “I’ll comply with your demand,” Bren said, “but I require two conditions.”

  “You want to impose conditions on us?”

  Khalia’s trained face showed only harmless and mild amusement. Hato knew better. He flashed a warning look, but if Bren ever saw it, he ignored it completely.

  “You’ll lend us one of the faster ships in your procession,” Bren said. “You’ll grant it to my men for Laonia’s exclusive use. You’ll allow the Konian children to depart right away with a proper escort, and swear Teos’s sacred oath that nobody will interfere with the ship’s course.”

  “Why would we want to agree to that?”

  “Because you don’t really want the children,” Bren said. “You want me.”

  “My lord,” Hato said, “I strongly advise you against—”

  “If the Chosen agrees to my request,” Bren said, “I’ll relinquish Konia’s testament box for a joint and immediate seal breaking.”

  Khalia’s brows rose high on her forehead. The shrew was making her calculations. She had to know that there was a good chance Bren was using her for his purposes. But she was also bound to realize that Arnulf’s box was likely to contain Konia’s charter and the key to his extensive fortune. Whoever held the box at the end of the witnessing would also hold Konia’s profitable guardianship.

  “Am I to believe that you’ll relinquish the box and its contents to Teos without further claims or disputes?” she asked.

  “As long as you agree to release any items in the box that may be addressed to me personally.”

  “You do realize that the contents of that box could condemn you and Laonia to a swift and immediate judgment?”

  “I do.”

  Hato could almost hear the question in Khalia’s mind. What could the Lord of Laonia want so badly that merited such risks? He tried to object again, but Bren’s determined expression revealed he would not be persuaded from his course. Hato hated it when Bren bargained with his life, but then again, what else did his lord have to trade but his life?

  “Very well,” Khalia said. “Come along.”

  “I’ll come as soon as the Konian children are on their way.”

  Khalia’s lips quivered into a terrible scowl. Bren was pushing his luck. With a snap of her fingers, the Chosen could order their destruction. Instead, a visibly disturbed Khalia took a whiff of the diminutive crystal bottle hanging between her breasts. Her face settled into a peaceful expression. Her authoritative smile returned.

  “The lord requires trust for trust,” she said. “You shall have your ship within the hour and you shall see the children off to your satisfaction. After the children have sailed, you and the lord Hato will join us in our chamber. You’ll bring Lord Arnulf’s testament box and we’ll conduct our inquiry. You’ll proceed swiftly and you won’t waste our time.”

  “But, my lady,” Orell said. “He can’t be trusted. His word is putrid, his promises are trash. Will you favor him over me?”

  “All shall be heard, and all shall be equally measured,” Khalia said. “Lord Brennus, how can we be sure you’ll comply with the agreement once the children are gone?”

  “My word is still good.”

  “Just in case you’re thinking of betraying your oath or withdrawing your consent, we too require a condition to ensure the terms of our agreement.”

  Bren frowned. “A condition?”

  “Without it, our agreement becomes void and your destruction will become evident.” Khalia flashed the greediest of her smiles and pointed. “We’ll have her.”

  Hato followed the imaginary line of Khalia’s finger to Lusielle, who landed one hand on her remedy case and the other one on her breast. “Me?”

  “No,” Bren said.

  “It’s only for a little while you make your arrangements,” Khalia said. “We’ll give her back, if she wishes to come back.”

  “You can’t have her.”

  “But we will.”

  Every man of the Twenty straightened, every hand on deck reached for a weapon just as the golden guardians in the Teosian galley reached for theirs. The men of the Twenty could read the uncompromising determination on their lord’s face.

  The woman seemed very small and frightened kneeling among the Konian children, whispering reassurances in their ears and hugging all three at once. But when she stood, there was only resolve in her eyes. “I’ll go.”

  “You can’t go with her.” Bren grabbed hold of her wrist. “It’s not safe.”

  Hato heard the panic in his lord’s voice, the fear of being defeated by the woman’s stubborn will and Khalia’s ill intentions.

  Lusielle patted Bren’s hand and, reassuring him without words, pried his fingers off her wrist. “Send the children home.”

  “They need you,” Bren said.

  “They’re not the only ones who need me.”

  “Don’t do this.”

  “The lady vouches for my safety,” Lusielle said, even though Khalia had made no such assurance.

  “She doesn’t vouch for your return.”

  “I’ll be fine.” She disentangled herself from his lord’s persistent hold and, to everyone’s astonishment—Hato’s especially—climbed the gilded steps, brushed past a smiling Khalia and boarded the Teosian galley.

  Bren snarled like a cornered beast. “If you or anyone harms her—”

  “What will you do, Lord of Laonia, attack us? Kill us?” Khalia laughed. “No, you’d never risk Laonia’s charter
with a challenge to Teos.”

  Hato grabbed his lord by the shoulder and held him back from committing just such madness. “The faster we do this, the sooner she’ll be safe,” he murmured. “Khalia is watching you like a raptor.”

  Bren shook off Hato’s hold and stomped away to huddle with his men. Hato met Khalia’s gaze for one last time before she disappeared behind her guards. Once upon a time, Hato might have been able to decipher her eyes’ subtle language. Now the gray eyes were a mystery to him. That’s because long ago, he had lost his connection with the only woman he had ever loved.

  He had lost faith in his wife.

  Chapter Fifty-one

  BREN’S CAREFUL PLANS UNRAVELED UNDER THE growing strain. Lusielle was aboard the sacred galley, with Khalia, who had no use or regard for her baseborn life, no sense of loyalty, and no qualms about using or harming others for Teos’s sake. Carfu and Elfu glowered at him as if he had willingly encouraged Lusielle to go with Khalia. Didn’t they know better?

  He had wanted to send Lusielle to Laonia with the Konian children. He had plotted to guilt her into safety. Damn the woman’s stubbornness. He felt like throttling her on the spot. Orell sailed on that same galley. The thought was like pouring vinegar in a howling dog’s wounds.

  Stomping back and forth on the barge’s deck, he watched impatiently as the smaller barge Khalia had promised was brought about. The barge came equipped with the crew that would sail the children to Laonia. Petrus, commanding five warriors of the Twenty, would travel with them to ensure their safety. Hato thought the arrangement left too few of the Twenty behind, but Bren wanted the children safe. Bren kept telling himself that he had struck a good bargain.

  If only Lusielle wasn’t involved.

  With so much to worry about, he didn’t notice the change until the shrill reverberations strumming his eardrum grew into an unbearable blare, jagged glass screeching against slate. Pain flared in his body, as if his veins were ablaze and his heart was pumping scalding steam. His vision sputtered, and he stumbled, clinging to the gunwales to keep his footing.