Errant

by Armas, Florian

  ERRANT

  by

  Florian Armas

  ***~~~***

  Copyright © 2017 Florian Armas

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

  Cover design by Fiona Jayde

  ***~~~***

  For my mother

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Part I Fate

  Chapter 1 - Jara

  Chapter 2 - Codrin

  Chapter 3 - Jara

  Chapter 4 - Codrin

  Chapter 5 - Jara

  Chapter 6 - Codrin

  Chapter 7 - Codrin

  Chapter 8 - Jara

  Part II Home

  Chapter 9 - Codrin

  Chapter 10 - Codrin

  Chapter 11 - Jara

  Chapter 12 - Jara

  Chapter 13 - Codrin

  Chapter 14 - Jara

  Part III Broken Promises

  Chapter 15 - Codrin

  Chapter 16 - Jara

  Chapter 17 - Codrin

  Part IV War

  Chapter 18 - Codrin

  Chapter 19 - Codrin

  Chapter 20 - Jara

  Chapter 21 - Codrin

  Chapter 22 - Codrin

  Chapter 23 - Codrin

  Chapter 24 - Codrin

  Appendix

  Fate

  Slippery Fate plays us, and, having played, slips further.

  Chapter 1 - Jara

  “They are opening the gate.” There was no sound, though I knew the old iron should be screeching like a dying animal. I am not dreaming… “Father,” I spoke without turning, mesmerized by the sliding gate. The open space was growing in all that silence, and I could do nothing but stare at the sight: soldiers waiting to enter the castle. Disciplined and steady, like bronze statues, they looked so small at this distance, their spears resembling inoffensive toys. “The guards have betrayed us.” Looking back at that moment, there was no rage, fear or any other feeling in my statement. Blank voice, blank mind. Orban S’Arad will capture me… He has waited sixteen years for this.

  “No, Jara. I ordered the surrender.” The first enemies were creeping inside, stirring a low stretch of mist that made them footless, disproportionate creatures sliding slowly through the open gate, tension visible in their movements, even at such a distance. “I am sorry, but I had to keep you away from the negotiations. It’s easier for you. We are too few to defend the castle for more than a month. And the consequences would be far worse if...”

  A ray of sunshine pierced the high clouds, dancing with crimson sparks through the mist. Bad omen. Blood will be spilled today. Haunted by the same belief, the soldiers hesitated, then marched further, their spears glimmering in the sun.

  “Father, I am the ruler here, when Malin is away. His army will come back soon.” It was a futile exercise of power; nothing in the world could wipe out the soldiers and close the gate – my own voice proved it.

  “He lost the battle three days ago.” My father’s arms turned me slowly away from the window, and, facing him, I felt like a child again.

  But I am not happy… “Malin?” I asked, unable to speak more than his name.

  My father shook his head slightly, holding me tighter.

  Malin is dead… Behind my closed eyes, his face emerged as if it were here with me. Not the actual Malin, a younger image coming from the past, a few months after our first child, Veres, was born. Veres was giggling, stirred by my fingers until he suddenly fell asleep, and we both laughed at him, arranging his small body in the bed. Then Malin stared into my eyes before kissing me. Our marriage was arranged (and Orban had lost the competition for my hand, something that he never forgot) as for any other noble families, yet that evening we became more than a politically married couple – feeling a love that we shared forever after. Uncontrolled, the images switched back and forth: Veres giggling, the kiss … giggling … kiss... Malin, my Malin… My mind was sinking slowly, sliding underwater, eyes wide open, unable to move, unable to breathe, frozen inside, with no trace of panic to reclaim me for a reality that should not exist, just sinking slowly until a heavy gray mist took over, and the world became soundless.

  I woke to a deafening silence, and a thought that it was just a nightmare coming to me while sleep slowed my racing heart. I almost smiled with a strangely incomprehensible relief.

  “Jara.” My father’s voice was worried, and that shy start of a smile froze on my lips – my nightmare was reality, and I had to stick my nails hard into my palm to stop a sudden cry.

  Malin’s face resurfaced in my mind, and that oddly strengthened me at the precise moment I fully realized the tragedy that had hit my children and me. What can we do now? “How long…?” I asked, as if it really mattered whether I was unconscious for a minute or a day.

  “Just a few minutes.”

  “When will they send … him here?” I could not say the word body.

  “They won’t. Orban burned all the bodies.”

  “Oh…” was all that I could say, betrayed by my voice. I can’t even bury and mourn Malin properly. “Cursed be you, Orban. To burn alive. To die by fire.”

  “Orban will be here soon,” father forced me to think. “He asked that you greet him at the palace entrance. Dry your tears and show him what a fighter you are. Your children need you to act wisely, and I will be there too,” he reassured me, then stopped talking, as if trying to assess a new menace that I could not perceive.

  “Well?” I pushed him.

  “He wants to have dinner alone with you. I … accepted in your name.”

  “Is there anything else you accepted in my name?” I snapped at him.

  “A few things related to our relocation.” He caressed my hair with a gesture that I had long forgotten, and that tamed me. “I will tell you everything while you dress.”

  We have lost our home… I nodded, and left the bed to prepare for the encounter with our sworn enemy. “Don’t tell the children…” I said, unable to finish, fighting my trembling voice, a horde of inner demons gnawing at me. Don’t tell them they no longer have a father… “Don’t tell them yet.”

  Soldiers were swarming the hall when I stepped out from the palace, as planned by Orban, just to humiliate me. I can play this game for my children. My submission should be complete and seen by everybody. None of them is mine; I checked the soldiers without looking too obviously. Armed to the teeth, they created a long, tight passage to let me walk through. Their eyes were burning my back, and the obscene comments… Ignore them, I ordered myself. Breathe…

  “Stejara,” Orban used my full name. “You are still the most beautiful woman in our lands.” He smiled, lending his arm to me, and I had no choice but to accept it and enter in the palace with my husband’s murderer. His eyes were sparkling – black, intelligent eyes. In his voice, just a slight tone of mockery, rejoicing at the situation, and I had to force myself hard to ignore it.

  The Evil Grand Seigneur, I remembered how he was named. Having grabbed our lands, he will become a Duke. The Evil Duke. No, he will remain a Grand Seigneur, but stronger than before. He will destroy, burn, kill. Nobody will be safe. Me and my children least of all. Why did Fate allow this? I must fight for my children. Later I can mourn. If I am still alive. “Please allow me to be your guide,” I said in a bland voice, glancing at his face that looked so innocent, knowing well what a black mind lay behind it.

  “I would be delighted,” he replied inelegantly, settling a strange calm in my mind – at least I could win the mental duel that he was pushing for, to hum
iliate me in front of his people. A small relief; he was the master of the castle now.

  “I reserved the upper, east wing for your stay here. Just a few minutes’ walk,” I smiled at him with a chill that was burning my lips.

  “If you don’t mind,” he smiled back, “I would prefer Malin’s suite. It … suits me better.”

  “That’s exactly where you will stay. You are the master of the castle now. There have been some changes recently that you are not aware of,” I said, scoring another small victory. Don’t push him too much…

  “You will keep your suite,” he pressed further, knowing well that only one door would separate our bedrooms.

  “That suite is reserved for your wife. I have moved with my children into the old area.”

  “I must insist that you keep your bedroom,” Orban deliberately switched the name of the room, to the laughter of his people. “I don’t like to complicate your life even more.” For the first time, there was an uncontrolled malice in his voice as he put pressure on by reminding me again that Malin was dead. “We have many things to share this ... evening.” The laughter in the hall got louder.

  “My children need me now,” I tried to counter his move. “As ordered, we dine together. Then you can rest. It is five years since our last encounter with you and your wife, Celine,” I inserted her again into the conversation, making everybody aware that it was not my choice we spend the evening together. Not that she could do anything about it – he had many mistresses – but because his father-in-law was there too, uneasy; it was a loss of face for him, and he was a powerful Seigneur. “Welcome, Lenard,” I nodded to Celine’s father as if just seeing him.

  “It seems that you have arranged everything well.” Orban retreated, and we walked together, his steps as slow as he could make them, just to parade me in front of his men, who were filling the hall, some of them mimicking intercourse with their hands.

  Drained and stiff, I closed the door behind me with a numb mind, so slowly that it felt like an eternity. I needed at least an illusory physical protection to give me respite. Orban had let me go after I installed him, to prepare myself for dinner. “I am sure you will be a wonderful host,” he smiled, when I was leaving his room, in his apparently innocent way that was driving me crazy. There was such a dichotomy between his benevolent appearance and the real meaning of his words. My legs weakened, and I leaned on the door, slipping down with closed eyes until a strong hand gripped my arm.

  “Let’s go, Jara,” father said gently, raising me up, and we walked together in silence.

  “I am afraid, father,” I whispered, after he closed the door of my new room behind me – another illusory protection in a castle that was no longer mine. I am more than afraid.

  “Stejara,” father also used my full name, for a different reason, though. “We have an agreement with Orban and his allies, but things can shift with the smallest error. One wrong step and everything crashes. We need to survive. Your children need to survive. Think of them. Dress yourself in an armor that does not let your thoughts out. Curse him inside, ignore him outside. Ignore everything. Three days will pass quickly. Two days in fact, this one is almost spent. You have all your life to mourn Malin.” He held my head until the warmth of his hands moved inside me, enhancing his words. “I know how much you loved him, but now you have to understand all that was negotiated. You must help me. Our soldiers will guard the door of the room when you dine with Orban. One cry and they will act. He will not dare. We are not entirely helpless. We still have our garrison, and the towers are ours too. There are just a few of his soldiers here. Most of them are Lenard’s. We can fight, if there is no other way, and Orban will not risk a wrong step. His allies are content to avoid a siege; they spared many soldiers with the treaty, and will not accept a fight now just because he can’t handle his instincts.”

  I nodded in silence, pressing my palms over his, in a closeness that sent me far, into a past without pain and danger.

  “Please, have a seat,” Orban spoke so politely that it would have tricked any person not knowing him. I was not that person. He pulled the chair out from the table to let me sit. “Leave us,” he told the servants.

  Not accustomed to his orders, they were not sure what to do, and I had to confirm with a nod. The door closed behind them onto a silence that lingered. Orban was just staring at me with a thin smile on his lips. Stare and stay silent, I tried to force Fate to be on my side.

  “Not hungry?” he asked, picking a piece of meat up from his plate. Absently, I did the same, without speaking. “Your father is a good negotiator. I wished to have some more liberty in treating you in the best way possible.” He stared at my breast, just to underline the meaning of ‘best’. “Maybe we can rearrange some things.”

  “The table looks well arranged, but if you want something else I can ask the servants.”

  “Jara. I am not speaking about such small things. You are a good host,” he pointed at the table. “Nothing needs to change here. But you could be even better,” he smiled. “I plan to stay in your … hmm, my castle, for a month. To take over, you know, boring, administrative stuff. Would you stay to … help me?” His palm hovered over the table, ready for a friendly handshake, his eyes wide open in a show of sincerity that did not exist. “One month passes quickly, and your children will benefit,” he threw another argument into his trap.

  Bastard! I can suffer a month with you for my children. The moment my last soldiers leave the castle without me, we are in your bloody hands. You will use me for one month for your pleasure and kill all of us at the end of it. Small as he is, Veres is a danger for you.

  “There is no need for more. You were kind in the negotiations. We accept our misfortune.”

  “You can change it into a small fortune,” he insisted. “I can give some more land to Veres.”

  The only land you want to give us is our graves. “There is no need,” I repeated, just to underline my position. “How is Celine?” I tried to avoid him.

  “She is well, thank you,” he seemed to accept a temporary truce. “Some wine?” he asked in a pleasant, conversational tone. “This bottle is already empty,” he glanced at it as if not realizing what had happened. “I brought something special, just for you and me.” He left the table, and took two fresh glasses and a bottle that looked very old. “Sixteen years,” he added. “The year you married. A very good year. For the wine, I mean.” He filled the goblets and, through the crystal, the wine’s blood-red color flashed in my eyes like a curse, and Malin’s image filled my mind. “Salute!” he raised his glass, drinking half of it.

  Die! I cursed him silently. With a stiff hand, I raised mine too, in silence; I was too afraid that my voice would betray me, and took a small sip. I had to recognize that the wine was good. Orban has refined taste. Sixteen years old… He goes into the finest details to pressure me.

  “Excellent, isn’t it?” he said, with evident self-satisfaction. “I would be really disappointed if you didn’t like it.”

  Do you want to get me drunk? I took one more sip. “Yes, a good wine.” I can drink a glass or two without… Maybe this is a very strong wine. Half a glass only.

  “I have four bottles. We can have a special evening each week. Well, all evenings will be special if you stay,” he raised his glass again, and this time I did not answer.

  “Your eldest daughter is now thirteen,” I tried again to channel things away from his strategy.

  “She may be a good match for Veres. Don’t you think?” He stubbornly moved everything back. “One month is more than enough for a marriage agreement. I can let my Secretary arrange the details with your father while we enjoy the late spring together.”

  In that moment, I felt wrong: nausea, and my eyes became muddled. It was so quick. I tried to reach the water, but my hand betrayed me. “Orban,” I said, breathing hard. “It seems that I am not feeling well. I must apologize for being such a bad host, but I have to leave.” I tried to stand, and in a moment, he jumped
and grabbed me by the arm.

  “You need help. That’s what I am here for. And you will be a better host than you ever thought.” He passed his arm over my shoulders and I could not react. I walked with drunken steps, leaning more and more on his body, and slowly, he pushed me toward his bedroom.

  “Not here, Orban,” I breathed, trying to tell him that I wanted to leave.

  “Of course, not here, my dear. It will happen in our bed. Much more comfortable, isn’t it?” he whispered, twisting my words with a sullied sarcasm.

  I collapsed, and he raised me in his arms, carrying me further. The last thing I remember.

  The guards smiled thinly when I left Orban’s apartment, and they were our soldiers. I stared hard at them, and their smiles vanished. It was that smile men have when a woman is caught sleeping with someone she is not married to, and even more, there was scorn that I gave myself to the man that killed my husband less than a week ago. They considered me a weak whore, and I had no will or time to explain that nothing happened by my consent. Somehow, their vanished smiles strengthened me and I passed further on surer legs; yet to continue, I had to rely on my children, speaking their names with each painful step I took. “Vio”. One step. “Saliné.” Another one. Everything repeated in a trance-like cadence that went faster and faster, until I entered my room, where my father was waiting. I could not speak Veres’s name. It was not his fault, but it was a man that hurt me that night.

  “He drugged me,” I answered the mute question in my father’s eyes, and threw myself in a chair before he could say anything. The wine was clean; Orban drank it too. What was wrong? The glass? Trembling, my hands gripped the chair like a drowning woman. Ignore the night. Ignore everything. For my children… “So much for your assurance that I would not be raped, but don’t worry, I felt nothing until I woke up with four people goggling at my naked body. Orban enjoyed parading his trophy, by taking breakfast in his bedroom. Our bedroom.” I bit my lip to stop yelling at him, and closed my eyes, trying to feel nothing. Heavy breaths mingled in the room, in a strange rhythm, as if our lungs were linked together by two cornered minds. I opened my eyes on my father’s marbled face, his eyes the only living thing around me, his mouth tightened in a stiff rictus that I could not recognize. You didn’t sleep… His sunken eyes, dark around the edges, were staring at me, without seeing. “It’s not your fault, father.” I gave him some space to regain himself, my outburst had calmed my own mind. I waited for him to say something, yet his lips stayed as immobile as his eyes, fixed on me. “We must leave today. He wants to keep me here for one month. Some people already think that I agreed to spend the night with him.” This night he will do it again without drugging me. Nobody will believe my cries.