Six Heirs

by Pierre Grimbert

  There was no solution to her problem. All she wanted was to be useful. And all she needed to do was convince Grigán, since whether she liked it or not, everything depended on him. But the grump was as thickheaded as a block of wood, hidebound and stubborn, with a mind no wider than a fishing line.

  She stood up again to take a few steps. Following the warrior’s directions, they had put several leagues between them and their point of departure. But Corenn had overdone it, and they’d gone further than expected. Maybe the men had gotten lost?

  She began hoping that was all it was.

  Corenn also showed signs of worry. She, who was usually so patient, was constantly on the lookout for their companions’ return and startled at every suspicious sound. She was now pacing as well.

  Léti felt her anger subside bit by bit as time went by, and now she was left feeling frustrated, with a hint of anxiety.

  What if something had happened to them? Something serious?

  “No, no, and no! Really, it’s not a good idea. I mean, Bowbaq, you should understand how dangerous it is.”

  “I know,” the giant apologized, embarrassed. “But it’s wrong to leave behind useless signs. You should always do your best to erase them.”

  “It’s wrong? And getting yourself stabbed over and over with a dagger, that sounds right to you? You could have dated your signs, if it bothers you so much!”

  “I didn’t find enough fangs. And it’s not the same. A sign, even an old one, even with a date, should be trustworthy. That’s why it’s wrong.”

  “No. Please humor me and forget it. If you want, I can come by here and pick them up someday. I promise you.”

  “Thank you, my friend,” the giant said simply, giving the warrior a thump.

  Yan noticed that the warrior took his time giving explanations to Bowbaq. Doubtless because they knew each other well. Maybe there was hope of softening the warrior up yet.

  Finally, after a long walk through the Lorelien forest, they found Léti and Corenn, whose worries were instantly swept away.

  Léti ran to the giant and threw her arms around his neck, to Yan’s disappointment. He had hoped for something for himself, without knowing exactly what.

  The gathering between Corenn, Léti, and Bowbaq was just as acrobatic as the one with Grigán. The young woman didn’t protest against this somewhat violent form of greeting, but actually seemed to enjoy it.

  When Léti was back on the ground, Yan gathered his courage to attempt a reconciliation.

  “Everything go all right?” he said in his kindest voice.

  She responded sharply, “Obviously. What did you think would happen?”

  She had stopped smiling when she turned toward him. That hurt him even more than her acid tone. Curses, curses, curses! It would be dékades before Léti would forgive him.

  The idea crossed his mind, only for an instant, to stand up to her and argue about it. Frightened, he shoved the thought out of his head. Once was enough. He had done enough damage already.

  The compliments and polite exchanges continued. Bowbaq raved about Léti’s beauty, and teased her at the same time, regretting that she had grown up so fast. Corenn inquired about the Northerner’s family, and rejoiced at the good news.

  Grigán politely waited until everyone had calmed down a little before he asked them to pack up camp. They headed out on foot, since Bowbaq didn’t have a horse. It would only be a slight exaggeration to say that it would have been easier for Bowbaq to carry the horse than vice versa.

  Bowbaq told them all about his trek, from the frozen plains of Arkary to the Lorelien scrubland, making sure to include his last few days of waiting.

  “Someone responded to my cyclops in Berce. Was it you?”

  “It was me,” Yan told him proudly.

  “Alone?”

  “Of course, alone. Do I really seem that incompetent?” Yan joked.

  “No, what I meant was that two people responded. From two different places.”

  They all thought about this second sign for a moment, then Grigán suggested, “That could have been a trap from the Züu.”

  “The what?”

  “The Züu, the people who are hunting us! Clearly we have a lot to tell you.”

  “It could have been Yan’s beggar,” Léti suggested.

  Yan smacked his hand on his forehead and looked at the sun’s position. Caught up in his problems with Léti, he had forgotten about everything else.

  “We’re supposed to meet him at the apogee. Today!”

  They all looked at the sun’s position.

  Grigán remarked, “So you mean right about now. Where is he?”

  “He told me to meet him on the beach where the gatherings used to take place. I guess he means the beach behind Berce.”

  “Well, at least it’s not that far away. What happened exactly?”

  And Yan told them about their dangerous first encounter in the stable, Rey’s decisive intervention, and how the young man had helped Yan get out of town without a hitch.

  Grigán didn’t know what to think.

  “I don’t know that particular Kercyan. Zatelle, yes, and her grandson, Mess. But not Rey.”

  Corenn interrupted, “Yes you do. Zatelle had another grandson that she brought one or two times.”

  “That’s true, I remember,” Bowbaq added.

  “But no one knows him as an adult. Anybody could be trying to impersonate him, without us knowing the difference.”

  “He said that he set the tent on fire,” Yan interjected curiously.

  His friends exchanged knowing looks.

  “It’s true, he’s definitely the one who pulled that stupid prank.”

  Grigán confirmed Corenn’s memory. “I remember it too. And the well-deserved punishment Zatelle gave him. I also remember that I was the one who dragged him out of his hiding place, while everyone else was wondering if he hadn’t been burned up.”

  “I feel sorry for the poor fellow,” Léti said half-jokingly. “That must have been enough to turn him off to life as an heir.”

  Grigán didn’t respond to her comment.

  “So, you think it’s him?” Yan asked Corenn.

  “I can’t see why not. Zatelle told me once that he had become an actor. Sounds like he would be the type to disguise himself as a beggar.”

  Yan agreed. He figured the jokester, with his cynicism and taste for drama, must be an artistic type. Or a depraved thief.

  “One last thing. He wanted to warn you that the Grand Guild is also in on the hunt. What is that anyway?”

  Grigán stopped as if frozen.

  “Are you sure?”

  “That’s what he said. So what does it mean?”

  The warrior and Corenn exchanged a dark, foreboding look. No one else understood.

  “The Grand Guild,” Corenn began joylessly, “is the organized consolidation of virtually all the largest criminal bands. Simply put, it means that the Züu have an army at their disposal. Several hundreds of men, even thousands.”

  Yan understood better. Grigán could congratulate himself for having been so extraordinarily cautious on their trip to Berce. All the roads, all the towns, must have been watched by the same type of crooks that he had met at the gates.

  “How does he know?” the warrior asked, stroking his mustache.

  “I’m not sure. That’s all he said.”

  Grigán and Corenn seemed deeply affected by this news. The Züu really weren’t taking any chances.

  The warrior drew the discussion to a close. “We have to go. This Rey might be one of ours. Yan?”

  The boy cringed. He didn’t realize that Grigán would need his help again, but he was the only one who could recognize last night’s savior. A shame. He would have really liked to spend some more time with Léti, in hopes of making up with her before the end of the day.

  Léti! Hopefully she wouldn’t try and join them again. He would oppose her once again anyhow, but didn’t relish the idea of a new fight.
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br />   Grigán told the others to meet at the little abandoned house where they had stayed two nights before. Apparently, Léti didn’t have any objection. Shocked, Yan saw that Bowbaq wasn’t coming with them.

  He watched the three of them as they grew distant in the woods. Bowbaq’s presence was definitely one of the reasons for Léti’s new docility, but all the same, someone of such strength could be a valuable asset.

  Grigán jumped into the saddle and Yan followed suit, still surprised.

  “Why don’t we bring Bowbaq?”

  “He doesn’t like to fight. Let’s go.”

  “Neither do I! And he’s so strong.”

  “He has sworn to never kill anyone.”

  “What? But why?”

  Yan was going from surprise to surprise. It was the first time he had heard of such a thing.

  Grigán responded a little brusquely, “I’ve never asked him, so he’s never told me. That’s the whole story. Now let’s go, or we’ll never make it on time.”

  Rey was starting to get nervous. Not only did he feel the minor apprehension he experienced before every performance, it was genuine worry: he wondered if he would remember his lines, if his performance would be good, if the audience would like him.

  That was the main question today: would his audience like him?

  Not that he absolutely needed to make the heirs like him. In fact, he more or less didn’t give a margolin’s ass what they thought, and even scoffed at these ridiculous traditionalists and their stories from the last century. But he needed their help, and their information.

  He’d seen the Züu. He’d witnessed the Grand Guild’s omnipresence. And he’d come to this conclusion: if there were any chance of salvation, it wasn’t in fleeing, but in direct confrontation.

  The surviving heirs had to join forces in order to find out who had commissioned the assassins. And take care of the problem, one way or another.

  His only hope was to find attentive ears and minds not too sluggish. If not, well, then he would make do on his own, as usual.

  He stood up from the comfortable bank of fine sand he was lying on and walked around a bit, keeping his eyes on the edge of the forest. The apogee had already passed, and it wouldn’t be long before he had visitors. At least, he might.

  He came back to the sand dune and sat down, patiently accepting his situation. He was awarded for his patience shortly thereafter, when the young Kaulien from the night before finally emerged from the forest.

  Rey breathed a sigh of relief, waving to him. Despite his own resourcefulness, he didn’t want to keep fighting alone for much longer.

  Yan stopped his horse a few dozen feet away. Rey didn’t move.

  “You’re not alone, I imagine? Tell them to come here, this isn’t a trap.”

  “You must first lay down your arms,” Yan announced in an apologetic tone.

  Rey expected nothing less. He detached the sword hanging on his back, then the knife he wore at his waist. For good measure, he pulled out the dagger he had concealed on his ankle.

  “There. Go on now, tell them to come, I feel naked like this. I could catch a cold.”

  Yan smiled at the joke and signaled toward the forest, where Grigán appeared on foot with his bow drawn.

  “My! He looks like an intimidating fellow,” Rey laughed. “Ha! I know him, he’s the guy who doesn’t like pyromaniac children. That’s just my luck!”

  Yan smiled again. With both the actor and Bowbaq, the group would soon be a lot more lively.

  “There aren’t just two of you, are there?” Rey continued. “All right, he has a bow, but that just might prove to be a bit insufficient for taking on Zuïa and the Grand Guild.”

  “There are three others, and one of them has a knife,” Yan replied, laughing loudly.

  “Oh good, we’ll be fine. For a moment there, I was worried.”

  Grigán finally joined them. He wasn’t at all in the same joking mood as the other two.

  “Is it him?” the warrior asked Yan.

  “It’s him. Suffice it to say, I really had to look at him up close to be sure, but it’s him. Speaking of that, these clothes suit you much better than the others—they were in dire need of a good washing.”

  “Thank you,” Rey answered, with a slight bow.

  “I don’t recognize you,” Grigán interjected with a serious tone. “Who are you?”

  “You know, you don’t have to threaten me with an arrow to get an answer.”

  “Well?”

  Rey gave his real name, and convinced Grigán by giving him a plethora of details about his grandmother, Zatelle, and his cousin, Mess, and a few snippets of memories from the gatherings. The warrior finally lowered his bow.

  “Do you still have the urge to light fires?” he asked, in a tone he meant to be jocular.

  “No one ever understood that it was an accident. That’s the story of my life,” Rey pretended to complain. “All right, so we’re good, you believe me now?”

  “I believe you.”

  “Good. I’ll warn you, no sudden moves please, I have to pick something up.”

  Rey didn’t move toward his weapons, as could be expected, but leaned over and cautiously lifted up a loaded crossbow, just barely hidden underneath a layer of sand.

  “You can never be too careful, don’t you agree?”

  Grigán didn’t answer. Yan, who was getting to know Grigán quite well, knew that the warrior was going to consider it a defeat. Too bad, Rey seemed like a resourceful guy.

  “You only could have shot one of us,” Grigán said finally.

  “You’re right. Who, do you think?”

  The warrior stared the actor down for a moment. Rey didn’t even notice, busy as he was rearming himself from head to toe. Then, Grigán turned to go back to the forest.

  Yan waited for Rey to get ready to leave, letting his eyes wander over the horizon. Only an eight-day journey away, and the sea was a different one from Eza’s. The same water, the same waves, but a different sea.

  “Is that Ji out there?” he asked Rey.

  “That’s it. Say, you wouldn’t happen to know a god who wouldn’t charge too much to sink it into the depths of the sea, along with its curse, would you?”

  “Its curse?”

  “It’s a hunch that I have. That I’ve had for twenty-six years,” he added. “Ji is a jinx, you know.”

  Yan watched the small patch of darkness amid the blue-gray water. It looked like nothing more than a rocky island.

  “Have you been there before?”

  Rey, now equipped with his weapons and the bags he’d retrieved from nearby, shot him one last look.

  “No. But something tells me this dreadful shortcoming will soon be rectified.”

  Despite his lack of respect for the actor, Grigán decided to strike up a conversation. He needed some answers.

  “What’s your story?”

  He didn’t want to sound so confrontational, but too late now, it was done. A hint of a smile spread across Rey’s face, and he let some time pass before he responded.

  “I don’t mean to offend you, Grigán, but I would just as well like to wait until everyone is here. We need to talk about a lot of things, and despite my taste for telling stories, I would rather not have to tell mine twice in the same day.”

  Grigán let out a solitary “All right,” that sounded more like a crotchety growl than any human language. Yan hurried to interrupt a potential argument.

  “Have you been in Berce for a long time?”

  “For more than a dékade. I was starting to wonder if I were the last one alive.”

  “You didn’t see a single heir?”

  “No, I mean, I didn’t recognize anyone, but that doesn’t mean anything. Someone on the hills signaled Berce with flashes from a mirror, for a couple of days. But he kept moving around, and neither I nor the Züu could find him.”

  “So we’re more clever than you,” Grigán interrupted in a cynical tone.

  “You fou
nd him?” Rey said, unsurprised. “Did you run into him by accident or something?”

  Yan answered smiling, “Running into him would be an accident. Maybe you remember him? His name is Bowbaq.”

  “That name must mean something to you, I guess, but for me it means about as much as my tenth harlot.”

  Yan explained, “Since everyone else seemed to know who he is, I figured...He’s an Arque, a giant. They say he can talk to animals, maybe that will help you remember?”

  “Oh, I see now. He must be very popular with some of you.”

  “With that kind of attitude, you certainly won’t be,” said Grigán, who had understood the allusion and didn’t much appreciate it.

  Then he stood directly in front of the actor and continued.

  “Our group is currently stable, and made up of only good company. I will personally hunt down the first who decides to sow discord in our group, or who puts us in danger. Heir or not. You understand?”

  “If you’re thinking of me, have no fear,” Rey responded just as seriously. “I won’t mix myself up with you any longer than required to fix our little problem, maybe even just the time it takes to talk about it.”

  “Excellent.”

  Grigán finished the conversation the same way he always did, by turning his back and storming off. He moved so fast his horse could barely keep up.

  “Do you think he would get mad if I tell him that his accent is thicker than a Mestèbe sailor’s?”

  The Kaulien, frozen with fear at the mere thought, responded, “If I were you, I would hold off on that...He isn’t kidding, you know.”

  “Oh, I’m sure of it. That’s why it’s so funny.”

  Yan figured these next few days were going to be full of emotions. Between his own dispute with Léti and the obvious antipathy between the actor and the warrior, Corenn was going to have to deploy all of her diplomatic talents to keep the peace.

  “Master Rey, was it you who responded to Bowbaq’s signs?”

  “By the gods! Stop being so formal with me! Do I look old or uptight enough to deserve that?”

  “No, no...”

  “Anyway, to answer your question, yes, it was me who responded to his signals. For three days. But I could never find this Bowbaq. I’m curious to see what the fellow looks like.”