Errant

by Armas, Florian

  “Yes,” she smiled back.

  “How was he?”

  “Afraid and upset.” Saliné was in a state of mind that allowed only short phrases.

  “And now?”

  “Afraid and less upset. We … clarified the fools episode,” she sighed, remembering the night of my wedding. “It was … easier than I expected, like he wanted to forget too, and we talked like before. It feels so good to be with him, mother. But he is not happy,” she said abruptly. “And he is afraid,” she repeated.

  “What is he afraid of?” There was no doubt in my mind about the reason, but she wanted to talk, and with all that regained happiness, his troubles were marking her.

  “Mohor and Aron. Codrin said nothing about them,” she added. “But he always stays just one night here, that’s why we’ve never found him. I want to see him more, and stay with him, mother, but I am afraid that he will be harmed.”

  “Saliné.” I went to the door that she was not able to leave, because of an overwhelming tumult of emotions, and led her to the sofa, taking her in my arms. “There is nothing to fear. I agreed this with Mohor.”

  “But…” she tried to interrupt me.

  “I know what you want to say: that I knew nothing about his jailing on my wedding night. It will never happen again. I promise you.”

  After a while, she calmed herself, and went to the door more confident.

  “Did he kiss you?” I asked spontaneously, just from pure curiosity, before she could open the door.

  “No,” she said, her face suddenly red, and left the room.

  When father arrived late in the evening of the first autumn day, looking for Mohor and me, I panicked, seeing only bad omens. Codrin…?

  “Codrin came back today,” father said, with no other introduction.

  “Is he hurt?” I whispered, unable to fully use my voice; I could not see any other reason for such a late visit.

  “No,” he added hastily, to calm me. “There is some urgent news for you,” he moved his glance left and right, to indicate it was meant for both of us.

  “I will send him an invitation for lunch tomorrow,” Mohor said, after a short silence.

  “I doubt that it will work,” father said, slowly. “And I can’t blame him, Mohor. Neither should you.” My father always had a direct style in dealing with Mohor, and in most cases, it worked well. There was a bond between them that I envied and appreciated at the same time.

  “Any hints?” Mohor tacitly agreed with father that his invitation would be useless.

  “Our young man is keeping his cards close to his chest, like an experienced player. He asked me to invite you two and old Senal, if he can come, to my house. As I know Codrin, it’s something important, even when his request is inappropriate.”

  I realized that Mohor would not go, and this time I had to agree with him. Our ‘young man’ so mature in many ways, because of his short childhood and tormented life, still had to learn some basic skills, like how to deal with a Seigneur. Or else it was just a way to pay Mohor back for his mistreatment, which was even worse; you can be childish, but you don’t twist a Seigneur’s hand if your back is not covered. “I will go to see him tomorrow,” I sighed, and Mohor smiled at me in agreement.

  The next morning, I went with father directly to his house, and found Codrin enjoying the warm sun on the small terrace that I knew so well. Leaning on a pole close to him, his bow reminded me Saliné’s words; he was still afraid.

  Codrin came down and stopped in front of me, unsure how to react. “Jara,” he said, staring surprised at my body, which was showing small signs of pregnancy.

  “Almost three months,” I smiled, slowly embracing him, and some the tension I had sensed vanished, yet he was colder and not really responsive. “I am glad to see you again, Codrin.”

  “Sometimes, I dream that we are as we were before the wedding, when things were … different. But seeing you is still good. How is Saliné?” he asked, staring at me, with unusual bitterness. “And Vio?” he swiftly added, as if trying to hide something I could not understand. “I miss them.”

  “The girls are fine,” I assured him, still not able to understand his bitterness. “They are missing you, too,” I gently reproached him for his lack of communication.

  “I suppose that Mohor found my invitation too hard to swallow,” he smiled thinly.

  “Yes, and I had to agree with him that it was inappropriate. Would you join us for dinner?”

  “One month feasting there was more than enough,” he said resentfully. “Sorry,” he added swiftly. “You have to allow me a rant from time to time. I know it’s difficult for you to understand what kind of… Anyway, I have some important news that Mohor needs to hear, too. Don’t think that I am trying to sideline you. I want both you and Cernat to hear them. And old Senal too, if his health allows it. No Big Mouth. Please find a way that is acceptable for all of us. I am probably not the best diplomat in this situation.”

  Probably? “I can chain myself to you, if you don’t believe my guarantees, so we will stay together in jail,” I joked.

  “Well, that would be a good incentive,” he answered, but there was no approval in his voice. “I can’t…”

  “Codrin,” father interjected. “Mohor is a Seigneur who keeps his word. You are…”

  “Mohor is a Seigneur who doesn’t respect his wedding guests,” Codrin cut in, growling in a way that was not really him. “I apologize. I did not want to be impolite with you. I am just … the political news I carry will put me in danger.”

  “We go together. If Mohor tries something, I will fight on your side. He will not risk harming me or Jara.” Father was still calm, but under that layer of coolness, I read his frustration. Something of a great importance had happened, it was clear to both of us, and however strange Codrin’s reaction, I could not entirely blame him for it.

  “Can you at least tell us what is at stake?” I tried to move things away from his safety until he had accepted what father had said. Sometimes, the mind cannot immediately grasp the situation when too much fear is involved, and he was afraid and bitter, for sure.

  “Your heads.” A short, unequivocal answer, its chill sending me back in time; Codrin had enough experience to recognize life or death situations.

  “Please, Codrin. We will be there, Senal too, and he also has a word to say. We want to keep our heads safe, mine, the girls’, yours. I hope that you think the same,” I tried to compel him with responsibility, and I was ashamed using my daughters as ignoble tools of pressure. “Once we finish the talk we leave together. All three,” I pointed around, just to enhance my words.

  He moved unsteadily, away from us, and I tried to go after him, but father stopped me. “Let him be,” he whispered. “You have chosen the right words. Wait for them to have an effect.”

  “I will come,” Codrin said in a bland voice, climbing the stairs. “But I put all the blame on you, if something happens,” he turned, pointing at me, “not on Mohor.” In silence, he entered the house and came back, after a while – fully armed and in his ring-mail.

  Not a confidence building thing, I sighed, but neither I nor father dared to comment, and we rode in silence for half the journey until finally Codrin said in a morose tone:

  “I have an important letter that was addressed to Mohor. The messenger was killed on the road. If you still think…” He left the phrase unfinished, but it was clear that he wanted another assurance from us.

  “Codrin, we are happy that the letter did not stay in the wrong hands. I am sure that your story will clarify, at least partially, how much harm was done. And you have nothing to fear,” I said, yet he was right; things were more complicated than I initially thought. You have nothing to fear, I tried to reassure myself, pinched by a small dose of uncertainty.

  At the gate, Vlaicu stared at Codrin with open happiness. “Welcome back,” he said, in a warm tone. “I hope you will stay more. I miss our training.” If I could I would have kissed Vlaicu, he had d
one the best thing to make Codrin feel at least a bit welcome.

  “Glad to see you, Vlaicu,” Codrin answered warmly, too, yet he avoided saying anything about ‘staying more’.

  “I will go first,” I said and let Codrin take my horse, a thing that he did instinctively, as in our old, good times. From the stairs, I watched them going to the stable with the horses, and I smiled, caught in the net of my memories.

  “Codrin is downstairs,” I said to Mohor, he was alone in his office. “What he brings may be more important than we thought. We lost some important letters.”

  “It may be true,” he agreed, rubbing his chin. “I will ask Senal and Aron to come, too.”

  “Not Aron,” I said, shaking my head to underline that Big Mouth should stay out of this.

  “He is my right-hand man,” Mohor said stubbornly.

  “That may be,” I smiled, “but not this time,” and he answered with a menacing grimace that was his usual half-joke between us when we argued. He sent his secretary after Senal, who entered the room together with father and Codrin.

  “I have this,” Codrin handed the letter to us. “It came to me in a rather unorthodox way.”

  Eager to learn the content we read it together, all four of us gathered at a corner of the table, like children around an interesting book, Codrin watching us intensely from his side. And it was ‘interesting’. Knight Rares wrote to us about the latest developments in our alliance, in the north. Names, numbers for the army, finance, everything was there, a black and white disaster that had almost happened. In Orban’s hands the letter would have meant our end. Codrin knows all this; I tried to understand the implications both for him and for us. We settled back in our places, in a silence that was difficult to define. Each in their way was trying to evaluate the consequences, calculating the potential losses, preparing arguments for a decision that could be hard to make. Codrin will never betray us… Who else has read the letter? My mind was caught in two parallel strings of thoughts that intermingled in an unpleasant way.

  “Was the letter open when you found it?” Mohor broke the silence, and it was indeed the most important question to ask.

  “No,” Codrin answered simply, and it was a sudden relief on our side, almost palpable, visible in small gestures that Codrin was absorbing with a tight concentration derived from his apprehension. “I learned that it was addressed to you only after I opened it.”

  “No one else saw the letter,” Mohor whispered as if talking to himself; it was difficult to ask directly who else might have read that damned letter. Codrin shook his head in negation, and I sighed. “How did you find it?” Mohor’s next logical question, a most dangerous one.

  “Some robbers attacked us. I found the letter in the pocket of their leader.”

  “Robbers,” Mohor repeated, confused by that wretched word; none of us expected some petty robbers to be involved in such important things. “What kind of robbers?”

  “Rich men dressed in poor clothes. Very skilled with the sword,” Codrin revealed honestly, a thing that he could have hidden.

  “I think we have everything we needed to know, and there is nothing dangerous,” I encouraged him, and signaled Mohor that he should keep things on a safe path. It could be, indeed, that Codrin had interfered with one of our paid mercenaries taking on Orban’s most important man in diplomacy, Cantemir, but he did not act to harm us. It was a coincidental event. Even if he was hired to guard our enemies, it was still accidental. He was hired by many people in power.

  “Yes,” Mohor said thoughtfully, “it was a most surprising evening, from many points of view.” I glanced at him, frowning slightly, trying to enforce on him my words that we had nothing to fear. He caught my eyes, and I felt reassured. “Whatever the reasons, we were in great danger from the moment the letter was lost. Thank you for giving it back to us.” He took the letter in his hand, and stare intently at it. “A valuable service. You will receive twenty hectares of land.” It was a high price, but Orban’s larger fortune would have paid much more for that damned letter, all of us knew this.

  “Thank you, Mohor,” Codrin said softly. “Without being disrespectful, would it be possible to request a different thing?”

  There was a newly acquired diplomacy in his words that surprised me more than his unusual request. I was sure that everyone else could have a different point of view, but they did not know Codrin as I did. Trying to avoid an answer that would be harsher than needed, Mohor gestured to him to continue.

  “You are in negotiation with the Devans for Saliné,” he said moving his eyes back and forth between Mohor and me, and I was sure that both of us reacted in a bad way; the negotiations were a secret that was no longer so secret. Codrin moistened his lips with his tongue before speaking again. “I … I would like to ask for my own chance with Saliné, instead of receiving the land.”

  “A girl like Saliné needs certain … rank,” Mohor tried to find a way to stop things without refusing Codrin directly. “At least a Knight.” He tried not to set a higher rank or to add a castle as a precondition, sure that Codrin had no chance of being a Knight anytime soon.

  “I understand,” Codrin answered calmly, as if he was already expecting Mohor’s condition, “and agree. Saliné is fifteen right now. May I have the first choice and three years to fulfill the agreement?” In a subtle move, Codrin both accepted Mohor’s conditions and transformed the discussion into an agreement that would carry consequences.

  “Yes,” I said, before Mohor could react. We planned to have Saliné married in two years, and she was not aware yet, but one year more, while adding some more complexity to our negotiations was not something unattainable. And it will be better for Saliné too, she will be more mature. I knew that Mohor was upset, and I gestured discreetly to calm him. “And as your gain is hypothetical, I would like you to keep five of those hectares.”

  She will be Grand Signora, but she will not be happy. My marriage was also arranged, as for any noble family, and it went well for me until Orban destroyed almost everything, but Malin became for me what Codrin already was for her.

  “Thank you,” Codrin said.

  There was nothing more to say at that moment, and Codrin left, followed by father, and I joined them too, as agreed. Not that there was really nothing else to say, just nothing while Codrin was still there.

  “Codrin, please understand, we are in a bad position and have no other choice than getting closer to the Devans,” I avoided to mention the marriage directly, trying to extract the slightest understanding from him, his knowledge took us by the storm, and from all the involved people I would bear most of his grunt, his cold greeting, a day before, was nothing but a proof.

  “You are working hard to find the highest possible place for your daughters,” he served me my own words that I wished to have never told him, and his voice was bitter. “Please follow me out of the castle.” It was more an order than request, yet I followed even though I found his caution ridiculous, but a least it stopped the recriminations about Saliné.

  “Your men tried to kill me,” he said blandly, yet his eyes were watching me aggressively.

  “Codrin, you were protecting their target, I suppose...”

  “No, they were sent to kill me.” That intense pressure never left his eyes; there was a strange contrast between his bland tone and his stare.

  “That’s not true,” I whispered, as my voice was betraying me. It can’t be true...

  “What is true is that you did not know.” His eyes were light again, like I had passed a test, making me angry that he could think of me being involved. “I am not sure about Mohor, so it’s up to you to tell him or not, but I don’t want Big Mouth to hear that I know. Things will escalate. None of us want this.” His finger moved in a circle to include all three of us in his statement. “Have a good day,” he said, dryly, and mounted his horse without waiting for my answer that anyway did not come; I was too dazed.

  Big Mouth tried to kill Codrin, I realized, but in
a strange way I was relieved that Codrin did not work for Orban, and he captured that damned letter just because Big Mouth had tried to kill him and used our links in the north for this.

  “Aron may have started an independent game which doesn’t suit our interests,” father whispered before mounting. “Codrin is more than a skilled swordsman and protector, he has all the required qualities to become an army commander. He was born to lead, and we need him,” father underlined before riding away, to catch up with Codrin, and I returned to the castle.

  Alone in his office, Mohor was still playing with the letter, without reading it. “What happened?” he sensed my turmoil.

  “More bad things,” I whispered, and he gestured me to continue when my silence went on too long. “I need more time to assimilate everything.” Codrin would not lie to me, but Mohor was not involved. I am sure.

  “Is Codrin working for Orban?” Mohor insisted.

  “He is hired by many high-ranking people,” I said evasively, because I could not be entirely sure. “But in this thing, Codrin was involved just by coincidence. Don’t ask me more,” I stopped another question. “It was stupid to send the letter with the assassins,” I burst out, a strange thought occurred to me. “The letter could be in other hands by now if it weren’t for Codrin,” I pointed to the letter, still lodged between his fingers. “And I think it is time to stop this killing game.” In fact, I had never agreed with such course of action, both because I disliked it and because it was Aron’s idea, but Mohor convinced me that we should forget about honorable things when dealing with Orban, and hired a team of assassins to kill Cantemir. Somehow he is right, but somehow he is wrong. Which is more important?

  Mohor glanced at the piece of paper in his hand as if just seeing it. “You may be right with the letter.” There was a new round of silence, he was trying to assess the implications. “We owe this to Codrin, and I am ready to hear whatever bad news you received from him, whenever you are ready to tell me.” He stood up, and put his left arm around my shoulders, the right one was still holding the letter. “I need more time to think about the other...” He did not finish the sentence, but it was not needed.