The Agartes Epilogues: Complete Trilogy (Books 1-3)

by KS Villoso

  It was his mansion, actually. Makin had explained that Lady Reema—unbeknownst to her father—had used Ferral’s name as leverage in obtaining the property from K’an Omo. It was unused, anyway—a family heirloom built in times of prosperity. It was too far away from pastures to be of much use, otherwise.

  Reema’s actions had infuriated Azchai to the point that he had disowned her. Enosh still wasn’t sure what that meant in Gasparian society. He already had a hard time keeping up with Jin-Sayeng politics as it was…all the different warlords he had to remember. K’ans in Gaspar were not so different, although their power was dwarfed by the Holy King’s immense army.

  The clear awareness that he was being used as a pawn in Southern Gaspar’s political games did not sit well with him. They did not even try to hide it. Haven’t I been punished enough for Sume and Mhagaza? he thought as they pulled him off the horse and, convinced that he would not run away now, not with hours of wilderness between them and the next town, finally untied him. He flexed his wrists and turned to check up on Rosha. A rider was helping her down from the horse, handling her more gently than they treated him.

  At least this took us further away from Yn Garr’s men. It was, if he was pressed to admit it, a small comfort. He wasn’t sure if he would rather deal with Yn Garr than Reema right now. He caught sight of a figure waiting for them by the gates. From the height of him, he recognized Makin.

  Makin strode up to him and struck him with a fist.

  Being hit by a man of Makin’s size felt like being rammed by a tree-trunk. Enosh tried his best not to fall, but realized too late that he was already kissing the ground. Before he could decide what to do next, Makin grabbed him by the shirt and lifted him up.

  “It’s hard for me to understand why you can’t just talk straight,” Makin said. “Even with me, Ferral. After all our years of friendship, you would still lie to me.”

  “You call that friendship?” Enosh spat. “First your lord tricks me into marrying his daughter, for the wrong mage, and then the bloody bitch schemes behind my back and has me sent to royal dungeons for killing Zilfikar…which by the way, am I still a hunted man? I can’t tell anymore. It looks like just about everyone is out to kill me.”

  “Two things,” Makin said, holding his fingers up with such force that Enosh flinched. “One: it was not my decision to do any of those things. I’m a paid man, not part of the Barun family or their scheming, and my only concern is to present you in the best light to the nobility—as I have always done.

  “Two: who do you think is truly responsible for most of what you have to deal with? I am not the one who goes out of his way to lie or misrepresent myself to the people around me. Telling a friend, for example, that he can take your money with a piece of paper…”

  “It was a legitimate piece of document!”

  “…but not telling him that his accounts are empty, so that he had to spend two days and nights in a Cael prison under investigation for committing fraud, and would have been beheaded had the lady not sent someone to follow up with documents proving you were indeed, married, under Gasparian law…is quite low, even for you.”

  “Gods, Makin. You’re exaggerating. They don’t behead people in Cael. At the very least, they’ll send you to the quarries to slave your life away.” He tried to grin at his own joke, but somehow his face wasn’t working very well.

  Makin didn’t return the favour. “You have no money,” he drawled.

  “Well, not right now. I’m still trying to find out why I don’t. I certainly didn’t pull all of it out myself. Have you seen my clothes lately?”

  Makin’s eyes flicked towards Rosha. “And that?”

  “I’ll explain later.”

  Makin’s grip tightened on him. “Explain now.”

  “She’ll catch a cold out here. Bring us inside, and we can discuss this like civil men.”

  Makin snorted at him. “You’re one to talk.”

  “Will you at least let me use my feet?”

  “Bring the girl inside,” Makin said, turning to the men. “Treat her as a guest. We are not the savages this loudmouth thinks we are.” He lowered Enosh to the ground and gave him one last shove.

  “I wouldn’t mind a warm bed and some sleep, myself,” Enosh said.

  “Do not test my patience, Ferral.”

  “Whatever happened to your sense of humour, Makin?”

  “You trampled all over it with your lies. Let us not tarry a moment longer, Ferral—the lady has been informed of your arrival. She is waiting in her chambers as we speak.”

  ~~~

  Reema’s cool indifference to Enosh as Makin led him through the creaky, ornate doors was unexpected. He had been steeling himself for another attack; instead, Reema turned to him from where she had been looking at the moon through the windows and folded her hands. “I am surprised you would dare return to Gaspar so soon after what you did.”

  “There was no intention on my part to lead you astray,” Enosh said. “But you were not in a good mood the last time we saw each other. You wouldn’t have believed me if I had told you the truth.”

  “He says he is penniless,” Makin said. “He has explained. It is plausible. He was in Nebel’s dungeons for a very long time.”

  “Are you trying to blame me, Makin?” Reema asked, her eyes flashing.

  Makin looked uncomfortable. “No, my lady.” He started to say something else and then stepped back instead.

  Reema turned back to Enosh. “It seems we are at an impasse, my lord husband.”

  “Perhaps we are, but I don’t see why we have to be,” Enosh said. “Now that you’ve learned you’re married to a penniless ahh—”

  “Whoremonger?” Makin offered, without a smile.

  “You people are so unkind. But yes, let’s put it that way. I think a divorce is in order.”

  “It does not exist under Gasparian law,” Makin said. “You were married in the presence of a holy shaman, blessed by An-albaht Himself. A divorce, in the eyes of the God, is sacrilege.”

  “You couldn’t have told me that sooner?” Enosh said. “Friendship, indeed. But my lady, weren’t you the one who told me our marriage could have been absolved because of our lack of marriage arrangements? I think not living together would make us qualify for that.”

  “That was before the child was born,” Reema said.

  Enosh placed a hand on his head. “Shit.”

  “K’an Azchai had the same reaction,” Makin murmured.

  Reema held a hand out. “Let us start again. I do not, for a moment, believe that My Lord Husband Hertra Ferral is as helpless as he makes himself sound. After all, Hertra Ferral is not even your real name, is it?”

  Makin gave a grunt of surprise.

  Enosh scratched the side of his face. “Maybe you can explain this to everybody in the room. Makin’s blows to my head left me a little confused.”

  “It was a love tap, not Ferral,” Makin hissed.

  “He is—was—a chieftain in Gorent. Enosh Meirosh-sa-Tar’elian

  Enosh bowed. “I am flattered you thought enough of me to find out. It must not have been easy.”

  “You didn’t tell me,” Makin interjected.

  “You are a hired man, who introduced my father to him,” Reema snarled. “Do I need to remind you of your place?”

  Makin bowed. “My apologies.”

  “My lady,” Enosh said. “This leaves me with the unfortunate predicament of attempting to explain to you that our marriage is a sham. I cannot afford to give you anything as Enosh Tar’elian, save perhaps a few choice goats from my home village—but you’ve plenty enough of those around here. And even if I could, you would not be entitled to them. You did not marry that name.”

  “He could be tried under Gasparian law for having married under a fake name in the first place,” Makin said.

  “Do it. They’ll kill me first for having killed Zilfikar, unless one of you is willing to own up to the deed? Ah, doesn’t it feel wonderful to learn y
ou’ve made a mess of things?”

  “It is not my problem,” Reema said. “It is yours. If you do not find ways to get me what I want, it will be most inconvenient for you.”

  “You’ll kill the boy, yes, I got that part. A burden on my conscience.”

  “I was told you came in with a girl.”

  Enosh smiled. “Nobody. Daughter of a woman who works for me. I had the unfortunate task of chasing after the little runt after she ran off. Kill her too if you want. Kill anyone you want, Reema, even the little cats in Kalthekar for all I care—that will not bring that coin back into those accounts. You’ll have blood in your hands and nothing to show for it.”

  Reema looked at Makin, who nodded and withdrew. The door swung shut behind them.

  “What do you really want, Reema?” Enosh asked, after an uncomfortable length of silence. “I’ve gotten the impression you aren’t doing this under your father’s orders.”

  “You are perceptive,” she intoned. She walked to the window, drawing her robes around her. “My father is scheming to get closer to the Gasparian throne. Every second of every moment, this consumes him. It will destroy Barun—in fact, it is destroying it now as we speak. But how am I supposed to stop him? Most of his soldiers are loyal only to him. Even the household staff…” She shook her head.

  “So your fabrication of my involvement in Zilfikar’s murder…”

  “It was to get you away from my father’s clutches. To put you under my control. The boy finished the deal to shackle you to me.”

  Enosh swallowed. The feeling of having the tables turned on him was more than he knew how to deal with. Things have not been going his way for a very long time.

  “So you want coin to buy an army? Lady, that does not sound like the wisest thing in the world.”

  “I do not need your advice.” The door opened and Makin reappeared.

  “They’ve confirmed that he arrived with two women,” Makin said. “They’re on their way back to fetch them.”

  Reema turned to Enosh, who shrugged. “My employees. I told you.”

  “If you were truly penniless, you would not have the money to pay them.”

  The smile froze on Enosh’s face.

  “They are important to you. I will find out how,” Reema said. She nodded towards Makin. “Take him away.”

  “Back to the cell, my lady?” Makin asked.

  “No. Give him proper quarters, with two guards.” She stepped towards Enosh and placed a cold hand on his cheek. “I am not unreasonable, my lord, but you do not want to test me, either. Your antics have worn out your welcome in these parts.”

  “Your mistrust wounds me, my lady,” he replied.

  For a space of a second, they looked into each other’s eyes. He realized that her hand was on his wrist. He could feel the bones in her fingers. Eventually, she let him go. Makin took him by the shoulder and led him out her door.

  “I beg of you, consider her words,” Makin said in a low voice as they strode down the hall. “She does not know where to draw the line when she bluffs. I fear for the boy’s life.”

  “While unfortunate, I don’t see how that’s got anything to do with me.”

  “Are you this heartless?” Makin asked. “It’s your son we’re talking about.”

  Enosh swallowed. He had been here before, hadn’t he? The sensation was oddly familiar. He said nothing as Makin led him to his quarters. There was a bedroll on the floor and cushions that smelled like garlic. “Do not try anything,” Makin said, eyes pleading. “For all our sakes.”

  ~~~

  In the dead of the night, Enosh felt the sensation of a stream of agan being opened nearby. Half-asleep, he was tempted to slip through and explore the other side of the fabric. But years of training with Sapphire had instilled habits that automatically stopped him from trying. He opened his eyes and realized what was happening.

  He turned the handle to his door and stepped outside, expecting guards. But the hallway was empty. He followed the sensation, which got stronger as he drew nearer. It led to the room next to him. He kicked the door open.

  Rosha was attempting to create a portal near the window.

  Enosh grabbed her by the shoulder, pushing her away before the rip could get bigger. “What do you think you’re doing?” he cried. He shook Rosha. The light returned to her eyes.

  The glow of agan behind them vanished.

  “You disturbed me,” Rosha said.

  “What you’re doing could kill us all,” Enosh replied.

  “Only if I do it wrong.”

  He reached out and slapped the child with the back of his hand. Rosha fell back, eyes wide open. It was the look of shock of a child who had never been hit before, and the realization of this immediately made him regret his action.

  He pulled his hand back. It felt like fire. “Do you think this is a game?” he asked. “A child like you, toying with the agan? If you want to go back to them so badly, maybe I should just buy you a ticket on the next ship and have it done with!”

  “Would you?” Rosha asked.

  “No! It’s a figure of speech!” He ran his hands through his hair. “Why are you being so difficult?”

  “Is that one rhetorical?”

  Enosh gave a deep sigh and turned to look at her. Brown eyes, brown hair—the very picture of him, only in girl form. “You need training,” he said, trying to speak in a calm voice. “Only very, very skilled mages should attempt creating portals. Sapphire is one of the best I know, and even she needs a nearby source to help her. You, trying to do this alone, is insanity.”

  “I realized that,” Rosha replied. “But I thought I would give it a try, anyway.”

  “I still haven’t exactly allowed you to leave, either.”

  “I didn’t know it was your decision,” Rosha said. “My mother isn’t here. I should at least be with her. Not you.”

  “It is my decision. Do you want to know why?”

  “Why?”

  I’m your father, you little runt. The words were at the tip of Enosh’s tongue, but he couldn’t make them come out.

  Why couldn’t he tell her? A part of him grudgingly admitted that he was frightened that the words would do nothing to sway her opinion of him. He doubted they would even make her obey him. He had seen how stubborn she was, and he was quite sure she would use this as a reason to resent him more than she already did. Perhaps she wouldn’t even believe it. He wouldn’t be surprised—he didn’t believe he was her father either, not when he first found out.

  He heard the sound of horses in the courtyard below and realized that the riders Reema had sent back to Aret-ni have returned. “Speaking of your mother…” he said.

  “I know what’s happening here, you know. My mother left my father for you.”

  “That’s…”

  “You won’t take his place. I won’t let you.”

  Three knocks came from the door. Relieved from having to confront the awkward conversation, Enosh went to open it.

  “Reema’s talking to them,” Makin said in a weary voice. He looked like he had just climbed out of bed. “I recognized your Jinsein woman. This won’t end well.”

  “I didn’t realize my wife was the jealous sort,” Enosh replied, closing the door behind him.

  Makin didn’t smile. “I don’t see how you can find all of this amusing.”

  “If I can be honest, Makin, I don’t, either. It’s a coping mechanism.”

  Enosh followed Makin to the main hall, with every step feeling like he was going deeper into muck he didn’t know how to get out of. He had begun to admit to himself that things have spiralled beyond his control. How was he supposed to salvage something from all of this?

  The three women were standing in the middle of the room when he arrived. He smiled; they didn’t. “I was just telling them how much we would all appreciate your cooperation, my dear husband,” Reema said.

  “I tire of this, my lady,” Enosh said in a cold voice. He glanced at Sume, noting she had tha
t blank, expressionless mask on again. “I can’t make something out of thin air. Kill us all and be done with it.”

  “He hardly has a say in that,” Sapphire broke in. “While I can attest to his lack of available funds at the moment, can we negotiate assets? Unlike Enosh, I have no desire to see your torture room.”

  “I have assets?” Enosh asked.

  Sapphire turned to him. “Your ship, Aina’s Breath, is stuck in Osaimir.”

  “These are things you’re supposed to tell me as we go along,” Enosh said. He drew closer. “How long has she been there? Yn Garr hasn’t transferred her back to his name?”

  “For the better part of the year, and no. I checked.” Sapphire turned to Reema. “For our freedom, and your word that you won’t harm us, you can have the ship. It should be worth a sizable sum.”

  “It’s my ship,” Enosh grumbled.

  “I think you have your priorities out of order,” Sume spoke up for the first time. “You have a wife. You have a son. I think you need to step up to your responsibilities, for once.”

  “Her father tricked me into this marriage!”

  “Did he trick you into her bed, too?” The ice in Sume’s voice could’ve frozen a dragon.

  He grimaced. “You know that was after I thought you weren’t coming back, right? It was a one-time thing.”

  “That’s not what I recall the last time you were here,” Reema broke in.

  “I’ll sign the transfer papers,” he growled, turning to her. “That’s the last of Hertra Ferral you’ll ever see, you bitch. And then we’re done, do you understand?”

  “We’ll have to detain you this time, until Makin can confirm…”

  “Yes, yes. Detain all you want. I need to talk to you, Sume.”

  She didn’t move. “What’s there to talk about? We’re done negotiating, aren’t we? I want to see my daughter.”

  He felt his ears begin to ring. Behind him, he heard Reema tell Makin to take her to the girl’s room. They stepped out of the hall, leaving him with Sapphire and Reema.

  Reema gave a thin smile. “This partnership could still turn out well for you, if you choose to listen to common sense. Once I overthrow my father, Barun could become a leader in industry and commerce. K’an Rajiat can be made to see reason. If Aret-ni is accessible…”