“Eighteen. Of age and then some, no scandal there for you.”
“She left after barely ten minutes?”
“With her husband. We ain’t on the best o’ terms, me and August.”
More rifling, probably through the log’s older pages. August squeezed Vane’s hand tight, and he couldn’t help but wonder whether Ursa was hoping to discredit August’s name or to create a distance between them for her sister’s protection.
The reporter announced, “She visits regularly.”
“To rub her life an’ her freedom in my face, she does. Wouldn’t pass by the chance to gloat about her weddin.’ She’s a nasty bit o’ work.”
“And you, you’re an angel, I’m sure. What brought you here, Miss Hincken? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“I don’t mind. That’s all on the public record, ain’t it? I own quite a bit o’ land down south, near Carphead, and well, I got angry when the king an’ his Finance Committee decided to raise property taxes in my zone. I already paid plenty, an’ always on time, so I decided to get my neighbors to band together an’ all refuse to pay a bronze piece. United front an’ all that.”
“The prison director told me you’re in for life. You don’t get a life sentence for tax evasion.”
“No, you don’t. But I had a visit to Yangerton planned last August….”
“For what purpose?”
“Just a visit. While I was there I saw an old friend o’ my grandpa’s like I always do, name o’ Crale Bendit. We were talkin’ an’ taxes came up, an’ I mentioned my idea of a united front. He had the gall to lecture me. Called me spoiled an’ arrogant an’ idiotic. Said payin’ taxes was a duty, garbage like that. My temper flared, an’ I hit him in the side o’ the head with a vase. Not as hard as I could have, that’s for sure, but he was old an’ frail, an’ the poor fool died. That’s why I’m here.”
“I see.” The reporter paused while he finished some notes, more than likely. August and Vane shared a wondering glance, and next door Byron Gent asked Ursa, “So how did your sister meet Ingleton?”
“That sounds like a question for her, now don’t it?”
“Surely you know, Miss Hincken.”
“I ain’t got a clue, actually. She met him after they locked me up, an’ I already told you she and I ain’t close. She’s been talkin’ about some guy real vaguely for months now. Told me he was a sorcerer an’ he was bringin’ her in from Podrar so she could catch up with me. Never mentioned his name, I didn’t know why. Now I do, ‘cause she brought him over today. She’s been workin’ at the Palace, I believe. The princess’s nanny. Must have met him there.”
“Your impression of the duke?”
“Hard to get an impression in that amount o’ time.”
“You realize who the man’s uncle was. Your sister have any connection with magic?”
“Ha! Besides her husband? Wish she did, that might make her a bit more interestin.’ She’s as borin’ as they come. But I’d imagine he’s got enough magic for the both o’ them, don’t he?”
“Your sister mention why they came to Partsvale to marry?”
“Again, why don’t you bother her with this?”
“Because I’d imagine she’s already back in Podrar. A bit far to travel without sorcery.”
“My heart bleeds for you.”
“Is there anything else you’d like to tell me?”
“I’d like to tell you tons. Unfortunately, for as much of a snake as my sister is when she deals with me, she’s also squeaky clean. I promise, if I could give you dirt on her I’d be more than happy to. I got nothin.’”
“I don’t suppose she mentioned at any point where Ingleton grew up? Where he’s been all these years? What name he went by as a child?”
“Are you kiddin’? She’d never trust me with that. I’m tellin’ you, you’re wastin’ your time talkin’ to me.” Ursa opened the door. “You’re wastin’ my time too, an’ I don’t appreciate it. Go to the blasted pair themselves if you want more, an’ good luck findin’ some dirt on Ingleton. I’m as curious about him as everyone. Wouldn’t mind hearin’ they ran him out o’ town or somethin.’”
“How long have he and your sister known each other? It started after your arrest, you said?”
“Yeah, September or October.”
“It’s soon for them to marry, isn’t it?”
Ursa’s voice oozed resentment. “That’s August for you. Like I said, squeaky clean. Ain’t openin’ her legs without a ring, not that one.”
The reporter left with no further exchange. Vane and August stared dumbstruck at each other until the door to their room turned, and Vane ended his spell. Ursa’s guard stood before them.
“I do apologize,” said the woman. “The prison director’s a cad. I’m glad I could help you avoid that unpleasantness. Would you like to speak more with Ursa?” August nodded, and the woman said, “I’ll let you in.”
Vane told the guard, “It might be best afterward if we transport out, rather than run across the director.”
“I’ll sign you out,” she offered. “But I will need to see you go.”
“That’s no problem,” Vane assured her.
The guard let the two of them into Ursa’s room, which seemed darker than before, and left down the hall to give them privacy. Vane was not quite sure what to tell his sister-in-law, but August marched right up to the woman with a look of resolution on her face that made Ursa back away as though she thought the girl might strike her.
August threw her arms around her instead, in the first sincere embrace she had ever given her sister. Ursa was startled, and could only think to pat August on the back of her head.
“Could you two hear?” Ursa asked, and August nodded an affirmative, hugging her tighter. “I didn’t mean those insults,” Ursa told her sister. “You’re a good kid, all in all. I just figured you wouldn’t want to come off as supportin’ me all that much, me bein’ where I am.”
“I’m not offended,” August assured her, finally drawing back. “Ursa, I…. Thank you. I can’t thank you enough.”
“That cover story was brilliant,” Vane told her. “I owe you one. Listen, when word breaks about me and August here, if the other women start giving you trouble you let me know, and I’ll get them moved. I’ll have the king instruct Samson to take you at your word and act right away to transfer them.”
“I don’t think I’ll need that, but thanks. I’ll just tell people you got my back. That should be enough to scare ‘em off. It’ll take care of the director, for sure.” And Ursa retrieved August’s shawl from where she had stuffed it in a corner to hide it from the reporter’s view. She had even extinguished two lamps to throw that wall in shadow.
August told her sister, “We should go now.”
Ursa asked Vane, “It’s safe for me to tell other reporters to go to hell?”
Vane said, “That’s my preferred tactic. Send them word with a guard that you’ve spoken with the Partsvale Daily already, that your business is your own, and if they’re interested in August’s they can come to me.”
“Good,” said Ursa, opening the door and beckoning the guard to leave her station at the end of the hall. She told her sister, “Good luck to you, I guess. You’ll sure be needin’ it.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Of Infants and Interviews
Vane and his wife and aunt returned to Oakdowns three days after his marriage. The manor was quiet, refreshingly so without servants bustling all over the place, though it seemed more sprawling than ever. August, who had only seen the grounds and never stepped inside, was grateful the place reminded her little of Ursa’s mansion. The rooms were larger, the ceilings lower, and all the walls a smoky gray instead of the creams and greens her sister favored. Vane’s library could have rivaled the Palace’s, though the shelves didn’t rise to the ceiling, and the master suite was nestled in the far eastern corner, set away from the rest of the house by a long hallway. Vane opened some curtains to mark the pro
testers’ presence, and in the weeks that followed their numbers remained stable, though no one was foolhardy enough to attempt damage to life or property.
The Podrar and Yangerton papers needed only eight days to discover the Duke of Ingleton’s elopement, as marriage licenses were public documents. Subsequent reports mentioned but made little out of August’s connection with Ursa, whom by all accounts she had barely known and never gotten on with. Ursa passed as a common criminal, one whose crimes had nothing to do with August or with magic; indeed, with Vane a sorcerer, the papers emphasized how the Duchess of Ingleton had never shown the slightest propensity for magic. Vane only realized upon reading the articles how much a point in his favor the fact might prove.
Carson Amison had returned to Yangerton following his spat with the king about the Magic Council. He made no public comments about the Duke and Duchess of Ingleton, which suited Vane fine. Thad, however, asked a lot of questions, so Vane said he’d met August through her work at the Palace. Greller’s son said nothing insulting or disparaging, though he was far from supportive, at which Vane took no offense. He had not expected much support from Thad’s quarter, did not need the man’s approval, and at least could respect him as genuine. If Thad was hoping to meet August, he remained disappointed.
By the time a month had passed and mid-April brought a son for Zacry and Joslyn, as well as rain showers at Oakdowns, Vane deemed it safe to bring his servants back. The crowds had thinned to some thirty individuals with their banners sporting X’s at peak hours, with no one remaining after dark. Worse than the protests were the reporters and curious locals who swarmed around Vane’s property, determined to speak to someone about his marriage and his unspecified intentions concerning the new council. Vane made clear in no uncertain terms that any servant who so much as greeted a soul from the papers would be dismissed.
Vane and August learned not to open the mountains of correspondence that came from anonymous sources or (if the person were more gutsy) names they did not recognize. Ninety percent of it was hateful, either threats or insults or, most often, a combination of the two. The other ten percent consisted of supportive messages from people who had known Vane’s parents, usually residents of Ingleton who’d received a visit or a basket of soup from Laskenay when she’d learned someone in the house was ill. Teena took it upon herself to sort through the mail so that Vane wouldn’t throw out kind letters with the malicious, which she piled up each morning and tied in a bundle before tossing them in the kitchen stove. Reading the good wishes, August determined to follow in Laskenay’s footsteps. She received occasional word from her maid, whom she sent to market daily, about some family or other in need, and on such occasions had Vane transport her out to bring an offering of food, or blankets, or whatever else was needed. Whatever the rest of Podrar might think of the Duke of Ingleton and his untimely marriage, those in Ingleton itself soon grew to respect their duchess.
With May’s arrival, the first council interviews loomed ten days ahead. Vane and August went to the parlor after breakfast to discuss for the umpteenth time what to do with Ursa’s mansion, which August was tired of keeping up for no one to live in or to use, when Vane stopped the discussion at its height. “You seem preoccupied,” he said. “You’ve been all week. Did you see a nasty letter?”
“I’m late, Val.”
“Late for what? Did you have plans with Ben—um, Hannah?”
“No, I’m eight days late. I think I’m pregnant.”
Vane had never thought such conflicting emotions could assail him all at once: joy to think of beginning a family with August, and nervousness; frustration to face another major change in his life, another adjustment on top of all the others; guilt for that frustration, when he knew this change, at least, he should consider the greatest of blessings; dread to think of how horrible the timing of this baby was. Rexson’s admonitions kept running through his mind.
If August is to conceive right away, the Giver help us all!
August’s voice came out a fearful whisper. “Val? Val, say something. Please, I....”
She looked terrified. Beyond terrified. That they would have been wise to postpone any risk of pregnancy was not lost upon her.
“I’d ask you how you feel about this, but it’s plain as day on your face. August, are you sure?”
“Not yet, no. I can’t confirm anything. I dare not call a midwife.”
Vane scooted closer to August; they were sitting on a plush settee. “We’ll be just fine, all right? We’re honorably and properly married. Children come in that situation. No one can deny us the right to have this child, no one. No one can consider it completely unexpected.”
“That doesn’t mean they’ll welcome the news. People won’t, Val.”
“Well, people don’t matter. If there is a child, we’ll welcome him with sincere joy. Or her.” He smiled at the thought of a daughter, a little girl with August’s nose. Her nose was perfect, round with gentle curves. “You and I, and all who care about us, we’ll make sure that child knows love. Make sure it’s protected. We have the resources to protect it, whatever that entails. We might have preferred this to come later, but if it’s coming now we’ll handle the situation together. Let them grumble. Let them whisper. That can’t hurt us.”
“People can do more than whisper.”
He assured her, again, “Whatever it takes to keep the child safe, we’ll do. We have every right to start a family together. August, don’t tell me you haven’t pictured this moment since you were a little girl. Don’t deny it was anything but joyful. Full of peace. Don’t let them take that away from you, you understand? They can’t sour this. Please, don’t let them do that to you. Be it now or years from now, any son or daughter born to us will be blessed beyond anything I deserve to have you for a mother. Good Giver, you’ll be an amazing mother. This child will know its parents, August. I’ve always wondered what that would have been like, always, but I’m more than content to live ignorant in exchange for my children never pondering such things. This is a blessing. Despite any hardships, any inconveniences, it’s a blessing.”
August nodded. Tears stained her face. She snuggled in the nook formed by Vane’s shoulder and torso and let him hold her.
“When should we speak of this?” she asked. “Whom should we tell? What do we...?”
“Later,” he hushed her. “There’s time for all that later. Let’s just focus on the positive for now. Our delight in this.”
“Thank you,” August whispered. Vane smiled, and kissed her. She threw her arms about his neck, Vane knew to prevent him from drawing away too soon. She felt that closeness a comfort. When the kiss ended, Vane made sure she settled back as tightly against him as before. He suspected her weight would numb his arm before too long, and decided he did not care.
* * *
Vane and August told not a soul a baby might be coming. They spoke of little else in private, struggling together to consider the child an unadulterated joy, cursing the gossip that would no doubt ruin their bliss in all too short a time. If August were pregnant she was only three weeks along, far too early to judge she might not miscarry, so for the moment, they waited, and Vane had the council interviews to serve as a distraction from the mix of excitement, uncertainty, and outright fear that threatened to overwhelm him each time he thought of a son or daughter.
Rexson and Zacry gave the interviews in the king’s office. Vane held the first slot, during which he was not so much interviewed as invited by the king to invisibly observe all the applicants to follow over the course of the week. “I was planning to have six or seven members total: you and Zac, of course; two members of the Enchanted Fist, just to appease the group, because the rest of them had nothing to do with Dorane’s madness; and then two or three from the remainder.”
“Two from the Enchanted Fist?” said Vane.
The king said, “Every one of them expressed interest, every blasted one. They’re interviewing on the final two days. I refuse to deal with them be
fore then, and I want you here throughout. I want the council’s membership decided by the three of us.”
Throughout the morning and afternoon, no applicant stood out in a positive way. Their humble lives had not taught them about politics, and Vane doubted some of them could read, though such was not the case for two telekinetic sisters from Podrar who were possibly of Rexson’s blood, products of his grandfather’s infamous romantic forays. A young farmhand from Bendelof’s region who could ripen produce by touch seemed to have applied for the thrill of visiting the capital. At the end came an adolescent girl from Yangerton who, like Crale Bendit, could combust cloth and wood but was just as interested in flirting with Zacry as in the council. Vane’s voice came from the corner after the king dismissed her.
“How many left?”
“One,” said Rexson, massaging his forehead. He shuffled the papers before him on his desk. “Another young woman.”
“Good Giver, no,” said Zacry. Vane chuckled, and Zacry threw a balled paper at him. Then the girl walked in. She was tall and rail thin, with large brown eyes that made her nose look tiny and strawberry blonde hair that fell in a wavy bob. After greeting each other, she, Rexson, and Zacry took seats around the king’s cedar table.
The king asked, “Where are you from, Miss Rafe?”
“Fontferry, originally, but Podrar for the last few years. An old maid aunt of mine took over the general store my grandfather used to run, and my brother and I came to help her.”
“Why are you interested in the council?”
“That’s not easy to explain,” she said, beginning to blush. She looked past the king to the suit of armor on the wall. “My power’s inactive, and growing up, I never told anyone about it except my mother. None of my family has magic. I’m the only one, and we were never quite sure where it came from, but that didn’t matter much, because it was easy enough to conceal.
“I was never comfortable with magic, and I had one particular friend as a child who, it turned out, was a sorcerer. I never knew what became of him. I saw his mark by accident one day when I was eleven, and I was terrified, because of all the stories I’d heard. I was terrified without any real cause. I told my mother everything, and she exposed him. That boy had to flee town, flee because of what I did in my misunderstanding, and I still feel horrible every time I think about him. So when I heard about this council, and I realized the potential it has to change society so that later on, maybe people like that poor child’s family won’t have to relocate for no fault of their own….
The Magic Council (The Herezoth Trilogy) Page 38
