Six Heirs

by Pierre Grimbert

  “Master Rey...uh, I mean, Rey, you might be surprised.”

  “All right, you’re getting better! Now say the same thing but with a curse word thrown in for good measure.”

  Yan looked at him, not getting the joke.

  “I’m just kidding. You’re too gullible, you know? I have a feeling we’re going to get along. Actually, which one of our ancestors has the honor of having you as a descendant? Is it possible we’re cousins?”

  “No, I’m not one of yours. Just two dékades ago I hardly knew a thing about the whole story.”

  “Lucky man! So are you here just out of curiosity?”

  “I wanted to accompany my friends. It was going pretty well until a certain corpse was abandoned in a certain stable in Berce...”

  “That’s funny! The same thing happened to me just last night. That means we already have something in common!”

  Yan smiled. It was a bit hard for him to follow the Lorelien’s conversation, but once he understood his sense of humor, he enjoyed it.

  Hopefully the others would agree.

  Corenn filled Bowbaq in on everything he needed to know about the Züu. The giant’s good mood progressively faded as she spoke, and completely vanished when the Mother listed the victims’ names. It wasn’t her intention to hurt him, but it was her duty to tell him the truth.

  After a few comforting words, Corenn left the giant alone to reflect in silence, dragging Léti along to give him space. Poor man. He had abandoned his family, traveled for several dékades, endured loneliness, hoping to warn a few friends of the danger that threatened them, even though it was already too late.

  Léti’s morale also took a hit. Listening to the tragic recital of their lost friends’ names affected them all. But it was no time for mourning.

  Corenn forced herself to remain composed. She was a Mother, and it was her duty to represent safety, tranquility, and authority in every Kaulien’s mind.

  “I’m going to need you, Léti. We’re going to prepare a feast so delectable that all these men will wonder what they’re good for on this journey.”

  The young woman agreed, happy to fix her mind on other things. Plus, Corenn had carefully chosen just the right words.

  “After all,” she continued, “this is sort of the heir’s reunion, isn’t it? We’re going to celebrate accordingly.”

  The women first took an inventory of their provisions before choosing a menu. Next, Corenn sent Bowbaq off in search of certain vegetables, roots, herbs, mushrooms, and whatever else they were missing, and even some things they weren’t. The important thing was to keep the giant from mulling over his dark thoughts, sitting with his back against a tree and his head between his hands.

  It was a good thing that Grigán had shot a decent amount of game during his reconnaissance excursions the night before. Corenn knew the Northerner was incapable, for moral reasons, of killing anything other than fish.

  Everyone got to work. When Grigán, Yan, and Rey arrived at the camp at nightfall, they were welcomed by the pleasant aroma of roasted meat.

  With great delicacy, Corenn, Bowbaq, and Léti had prepared three roasted sea pheasants and several corioles. They had also roasted various mushrooms and wild vegetables, whose smells were just as mouthwatering. Finally, using a few planks salvaged from the abandoned house, Bowbaq had managed to set up a very satisfactory table equipped with benches. Léti took care of decorating it all with a few candles and a small bouquet. She was in the middle of arranging a basket of freshly picked fruit when Yan, Grigán, and the stranger showed up.

  “Welcome, heirs!” Corenn exclaimed, a lot more cheerfully than she ordinarily would.

  She wanted to prevent any potential objection from Grigán about the numerous fires they’d started. The warrior wouldn’t dare be a killjoy.

  “Thank you for your hospitality, but I’m afraid I’ve come alone,” Rey joked, making his entrance.

  “Well, I hope you’re hungry, Mr. Alone. So this is Zatelle’s grandson?”

  “And you must be Corenn. My grandmother had a lot of respect for you, and if I trust my nose, I can bet it was deserved,” he concluded, with a little bow.

  “Why, thank you. I must say, I pictured Lorelien beggars a bit differently,” she said, laughing.

  “Let’s hope you won’t change your mind after seeing me eat, my lady. Well, well, who’s this young woman, whose existence has been kept secret from me until now? May you be so kind as to introduce us?” Corenn complied with a smile.

  “I have the pleasure of introducing you to Léti, the only daughter of my late cousin Norine. Léti, this is Reyan Kercyan the Younger, the apparent descendant of the wise man whose name he bears.”

  “I have the weakness of preferring Rey over Reyan,” he interrupted. “By all the gods, if I had known about the presence of such charming individuals among the heirs, I would have never missed a single gathering. Please, tell me you haven’t already taken someone in Union?”

  Yan experienced something like a strangled hiccup. While he had been struggling for years to win over Léti, while his greatest anxiety was to bring up the subject of the Promise before Eurydis, this newcomer Rey the Bold was making advances at their very first meeting. Yan awaited her response with bated breath.

  Léti was spellbound. She had taken notice of the actor’s good looks from the very start. The unsettling gaze of his deep blue eyes, his rebellious mane of long sandy blond hair, his confident movements, and his unique clothing, which looked as luxurious as it did comfortable. Like his immaculate shirt, for example, made of unquestionably rich fabric, but which he wore as if it were a simple work tunic. Or his finely crafted boots that seemed custom-made. Maybe they were.

  The character also had a strange, or eccentric, side to him as well. The band in his hair, his cape made of fine hide, and an unassuming ring, for example, all lent him a mysterious air. The sword he wore on his back and the daggers at his waist made him look like a protector. And last, but not least, his graceful manners, his education, and his humor made him very charming.

  Léti was spellbound indeed.

  “I’m not in Union with anyone, my lord. In fact, my Promise has yet to be requested.”

  She was only telling the truth, but for some reason she had the odd feeling she was lying. Except for Rey, her response seemed to bother everyone else, too.

  “I can’t believe it!” the actor said. “Unless men are too struck by your beauty to even dare speak to you. Ah, that must be it.”

  Léti thanked him with a smile but didn’t add anything more. It was certainly the first time in her life she’d received so many compliments, and what compliments they were! Rey had succeeded in putting the young woman off balance.

  As for Yan, he wondered if the actor was always so perceptive. How could he have guessed that Léti intimidated her suitors? Or rather, intimidated him?

  Corenn finished the introductions with Bowbaq, who, not going so far as to twirl him in the air, greeted the Lorelien with a clumsy hug.

  “I don’t know if you remember,” the giant said with a smile, “but we were close friends when you were younger.”

  “I hope we still are. I would hate for you to be angry with me,” the actor added, evaluating the Northerner’s imposing muscular mass.

  “I have a hard time imagining our Bowbaq angry,” Grigán teased.

  “Actually, I do remember you now. You didn’t have a beard back then, and you spent the whole time at the gatherings playing with the kids, didn’t you?”

  “Of course. And you couldn’t keep yourself from cheating. There must have been at least a few times that I didn’t catch you!”

  “A few? Dozens!”

  They laughed heartily. Rey was pleasantly surprised. He was afraid he would end up in the middle of a gang of imbeciles who almost religiously worshipped people who, although a part of their family, weren’t any less dead than they were a century ago. And now he found himself among good people, all of them readily welcoming him wit
h open arms. Well, almost all of them, he thought, thinking back on Grigán’s sermon.

  “I suggest we take a seat at the table right away. The meal is nearly finished, and I’m sure you’re dying of hunger,” Corenn announced.

  “With pleasure,” answered Rey. “I haven’t eaten anything since dawn, and I intend to do right by each one of your dishes.”

  He got rid of his bags and hastily offered to help Léti remove the various game and other food from the flames.

  Yan and Grigán, exchanging a grim look ripe with undertones, tied up their horses and dragged their feet as they came to join the others at the table.

  The warrior was afraid of losing his authority over the group, and as a result, putting its members in danger. The fisherman was afraid of losing Léti, and as a result, everything he had built his life around until now.

  He wasn’t angry with anyone. Léti wasn’t tied down in any way, and so was free to respond to the advances of whomever she pleased. And Rey, who quite naturally found her pleasing, was only wrong in his audacity.

  Yan only had himself to blame. He should have declared his love a long time ago. Now it was too late. He couldn’t possibly imagine defeating the actor in a competition for Léti’s affection.

  The only thing he could do was pray that such a thing wouldn’t come to pass.

  The meal prepared by Corenn, Léti, and Bowbaq was unanimously declared a delicious success. Rey was full of praise for the corioles stuffed with plons, while Grigán raved about the mushrooms grilled over the embers.

  Bowbaq pulled a canteen practically full of liquor out of his pouch, offering everyone a generous swig. Then it was Rey’s turn, who shared a rich bottle of green wine from Junine. He didn’t explain how or why he had it in his possession.

  Only Yan, though he hadn’t eaten a thing all day, didn’t share in his companions’ enthusiasm. He couldn’t help but watch Léti and Rey, and that took away all of his appetite. It was obvious that she was swayed by the actor’s charm. And he, poor fisherman, didn’t know what to do.

  The needling, cruel voice of his conscience whispered to him: if you had proposed earlier...if you had spoken to her...And he couldn’t shut the voice up. Everything he ate tasted like regret. He finally gave up eating and was tempted to drink instead, but quickly abandoned the idea. Normally, alcohol didn’t suit him very well, and it certainly wouldn’t help him right now. He really didn’t feel like celebrating, so he listened to his friends’ conversation, without really paying any attention.

  “For me, after being alone for so long,” Bowbaq was saying, “I swear, it sure feels good to talk to someone.”

  Corenn agreed, “Of course, and now there are six of us.”

  “Do you think there any other heirs in Berce?”

  “I do not think so. If any show up now, it will be on the Day of the Owl. The others are in hiding, like Ipsen and your children, if not...”

  Grigán finished for her, “If not, they’re dead. There’s no use in denying it. And if we’re here, it’s only because we were lucky.”

  “Lucky to be hunted by the Züu,” Rey interrupted. “Lucky to have lost my cousin. I’d gladly give up that kind of luck.”

  “Be thankful, first. Think what would have happened if you had come in through the front door, instead of the window. Or if Bowbaq hadn’t woken up before they got to his house. Or if Corenn hadn’t guessed the true danger when she learned about Xan’s death.”

  “All said and done, Master Derkel, you are the only one who has just yourself to thank for your own survival.”

  “Maybe, Kercyan. And it will stay that way as long as you don’t stick any spokes in our wheels.”

  “Well,” Corenn said firmly to cut short the conversation, which was heating up. “I think the problem that concerns us is elsewhere. We should all concentrate our thinking on the future more than the past. Am I right?”

  “I share your opinion entirely,” Rey responded.

  “Sure,” Grigán simply said.

  “We should take advantage of being reunited to share our ideas. We’re faced with three main questions: who is the one who started all this, why do they care about the heirs, and finally—and most importantly—how will we put an end to it? I am convinced we only need to know one of these things in order to deduce the other two. Everyone in agreement?”

  Of course, everyone nodded. If, up until now, Corenn had let herself fade behind Grigán, she was clearly determined to control the debates, which was perfectly within her capabilities. It seemed like the group would have two leaders, one a warrior, the other a diplomat.

  “Before we propose any theories, we should gather and compare our information. Everyone has briefly told their story, but I want you to really search your memory. Did any of the Züu that you met say, do, or even suggest anything that might point us in the right direction?”

  The interrogation was mostly directed at Rey and Bowbaq, and just as much at Yan, who still hadn’t had much time to process everything he saw in Berce.

  “Mine shot me a good series of insults,” the actor joked. “I would like to repeat them to you, but I doubt that would be very useful!”

  “The ones who attacked me didn’t say much, and I didn’t understand their language. I might have been able to interrogate one of them, but Mir killed him too quickly...”

  Rey chimed in, “Mir, that’s your snow lion, right? Isn’t that what you said earlier? You sticking with that?”

  “Of course,” the Northerner responded innocently. “I mean, he’s not my lion, but a lion. No one owns Mir.”

  “He’s sticking with it. Either you are more susceptible to wine than you look, or you will have to show me how to train animals one day.”

  “It’s not training. It’s a dialogue. From mind to mind.”

  “You’ll have to show me, then.”

  “We are getting off topic,” Corenn reminded them.

  Yan rummaged through his memory, but couldn’t find anything to add. All that he had to say about the Züu, the others knew already. He preferred to keep quiet and to let himself wallow in the pain of his thwarted love.

  “I found a piece of parchment on one of them,” Bowbaq announced, after thinking about it for a while. “But it was all tattered and unreadable, so I destroyed it. Maybe I shouldn’t have,” he finished, lowering his head.

  “Too bad,” commented Grigán.

  “I also found one. And it’s in perfect condition.”

  Rey went over to his bags, from which he pulled out a paper and something rolled up in a piece of fabric.

  “What’s that?” Léti asked him, while Corenn leaned toward the parchment.

  Rey, smiling, handed over the object. He couldn’t look at her without smiling, Yan noticed with a pang of jealousy.

  “Be careful not to hurt yourself. The smallest scratch would be fatal.”

  Léti delicately pulled out the item. A dagger. A long, thin, horrible dagger, whose point was stuck in a piece of wood.

  “A Züu dagger?” she asked, disgusted.

  “Indeed. As genuine as they come. But its old owner is no longer with us to verify that.”

  “So much the better,” Léti noted in a dark tone.

  She firmly gripped the weapon’s handle and observed it in the fire’s dancing light. It was just such a blade that had killed her friends. It was such a blade that these men were trying to plunge into her heart. Almost as thin as a needle.

  “I would just as well that you put that down,” Grigán asked.

  Léti acted like she didn’t hear anything, even daring to remove the piece of wood that covered the point. Ignoring the warrior’s repeated request, she took a salted apple from a basket and carefully stabbed the steel into it. The fruit’s peel withered and blackened, as if it had been burnt.

  “Léti, put that horrible thing down,” Corenn ordered in a harsh tone Yan didn’t expect from her.

  Rey held out his hand, and Léti put down the dagger and the fabric with resi
gnation. The actor then passed on the object to Bowbaq, who just gave it a nauseated look, then to Yan, who set it down in front of himself to examine in detail.

  Bowbaq said, “I wonder how they manage to avoid injuring themselves.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it happens, just as with anyone. But the Züu have a big advantage over their victims. An antidote.”

  Rey pulled a little box out of his pocket. Inside was a slightly damp, dark-colored paste, which he showed to his companions.

  “Careful, I’m not sure about it. I also found a little vial, which apparently contains the poison, judging from the odor on the dagger. But it could very easily be the reverse; just as this paste could have nothing to do with the dagger.”

  “I found the same things,” Bowbaq said. “I was stupid to not keep them. I beg your forgiveness—”

  “Stop torturing yourself!” Grigán exclaimed. “You’re alive, your wife and your kids are safe, that’s all you can ask for.”

  “Thank you, my friend.”

  “It looks like there are some sort of notches on the handle,” Yan pointed out.

  “I saw them as well. They’re some sort of eye-shaped carvings.”

  “How many are there?” Grigán asked without batting an eye.

  Yan leaned in again to get a close look.

  “Seventeen.”

  “Reyan, in killing this Zü, you have avenged the deaths of seventeen of his victims. At least. They only tally their ‘official’ murders. Their contracts, if you prefer.”

  Revolted, Yan pushed away the dagger.

  The dagger no longer fascinated him at all. It was simply repulsive.

  “Aunt Corenn, are you all right?”

  The Mother hadn’t said anything for a while, immersed as she was in reading the parchment.

  “I’m all right,” she responded with a sigh. “I was lost in my thoughts. Apparently, this piece of paper is just a list. An appalling list: all the heirs living in or near Lorelia. A dozen or so people. And there is a cross next to each name, except for Rey’s.”