Death of the Immortal King

by Sarah McCarthy

  Until now. Lilianna imagined her life with boxes of gold coins and servants. Traveling the world with this stranger. It wasn’t totally unappealing. Depending on how crazy he was.

  “I’d better go. Thanks for the help.”

  “At your service.”

  18

  Lilianna

  Later that afternoon, Lilianna returned to see if Aron had found her cache.

  “Is this it?” he asked, holding out a tarnished bronze scimitar.

  “No,” Lilianna said. “Why would I have a secret cache of scimitars?”

  Aron dropped the sword to the deck of the boat and called down into the hold, “Paric! Will you grab the other box?”

  Paric, a tall, thin, cleanshaven man, hurried up the steps and set a crate down at Aron’s feet. He picked up the scimitar and dusted it off, taking a moment to run his thumb down the edge of the blade thoughtfully, almost lovingly, and hurried back below deck with it.

  Aron noticed Lilianna’s expression and smiled sheepishly. “Don’t mind him. He has a thing about weapons.”

  “Right.” Another comforting detail about her potential future husband’s household.

  “Anyway, I didn’t find any cairns, so I wasn’t sure what was yours. It must have been knocked down or something.”

  “Oh. Yeah. I hadn’t been there in a while.” Seven years.

  Aron rummaged in the crate and pulled out an amethyst as large as his fist. “Was this it?”

  Lilianna gaped. It must have been worth a fortune.

  Aron saw the look on her face and dropped it back into the crate. “No, no, I didn’t think so.”

  “You… you just found that? Lying around up there?”

  Aron didn’t look up from his rummaging. “Oh, no. It was under a bunch of other rocks and it looked like a normal rock until I dropped it and it chipped and I saw the inside.”

  “Right. And… the scimitar?”

  “Oh, that was just lying around.” He straightened. “Here, is it this?” He held out a battered leather pouch, and Lilianna’s throat constricted. She nodded.

  “You said it would take me a bunch of trips, so I kept looking, but I didn’t find anything else.”

  Lilianna cleared her throat, her eyes locked on the pouch. She took it, feeling the hard, weather-stained leather, and squeezed it tightly. “I just said that so you’d take longer and bring your servants with you. I wanted to search your boat. As you apparently realized.”

  Aron rubbed his forearm. “I thought that might be the case.”

  “Sorry I lied.”

  “I understand.” He said it so simply and calmly, as if it were the most natural, understandable thing in the world for her to have lied to him. She couldn’t hear even the slightest trace of anger, and she was good at detecting anger.

  She tucked the package into her dress pocket and looked up at him. He was watching her curiously, and she wondered if he would ask.

  “It’s OK if… if you need secrets. You don’t have to tell me about it,” he said.

  A feeling of safety, so unfamiliar and so needed that the fear of losing it was almost intolerable, came over her. “Because you have secrets, too?” she countered, just to keep herself from feeling.

  He shrugged. “No.”

  “So, you’ll tell me whatever I want to know?”

  He examined her thoughtfully. “Maybe eventually.”

  “How is that not having secrets?” she asked, on firmer ground now that they were arguing.

  “There’s a difference between having a secret and not immediately telling someone every single dark thing about yourself.”

  “So there are dark things about you.”

  “There are dark things about everyone.”

  “Yeah, but, like, how dark?”

  “Nothing really terrible.” He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners, but there was sadness there, too.

  She considered this. “What if I said I wouldn’t marry you unless you told me everything?”

  He shrugged. “Then I’d tell you everything. But it wouldn’t matter, would it? How would you know I’d told you the truth?”

  “Comforting.” But she smiled.

  Lilianna paced nervously outside the forge until it got dark, waiting for Coralie to come home from wherever she was. After a while she sat on one of the woven reed chairs out front, pulling the leather pouch from her pocket. She held it reverently, fearfully, thinking of that night all those years ago. The leather was stiff and water-stained from years out in the elements. She worked the knot free and opened it, and there it was. The knife. Still with the dark stain of dried blood. The familiar rage bubbled up inside her, and she hastily wrapped it back up, stuffing it deeper into her pocket.

  At last she heard footsteps approaching through the gathering darkness and saw Coralie, a pack on her back, hiking down the road towards her, a walking stick in hand. There was a faraway look on her face, and she was staring out over the water, but she smiled and gave an excited hop when she saw Lilianna.

  Coralie jogged the last few steps, dropping her stick on the ground and wrapping her arms around her, leaning her forehead on her shoulder. For a moment Lilianna forgot everything that had happened, and everything she had come here to say, and leaned her head on Coralie’s shoulder and closed her eyes. They stood there, just breathing, until Coralie pulled away, eyes shining.

  “OK,” she said, grabbing her pack and rifling through it. “I’ve been getting us supplies. And, here, this is what I got yesterday.” From the bottom she pulled a sack of silver coins and dumped it into Lilianna’s hands. “This should be enough for our passage. And lodging for a few days.”

  Lilianna’s jaw dropped. “Where did you get this?”

  “I’ve been out robbing travelers on the highway.” Lilianna’s head jerked up, and she saw the mirth in Coralie’s eyes.

  “Come on, really. What did you do?”

  Coralie laughed. “I sold all the… all the things I’ve been practicing on. And all the clothes I won’t need anymore.” She scratched her head. “They didn’t go for much.”

  “Coralie, this is…”

  “Not enough, I know. But we’ll figure out the next steps when we get to Kreiss. I have some ideas.”

  Coralie’s eyes were glowing and reflected in them Lilianna could see their future. She could see them living in Kreiss together. For a moment, she imagined the rooms they would have, up in the top floor of some tiny crowded building. Babies screaming downstairs, the smell of pastries and rotting flowers drifting in the windows from the markets below. She also saw how hard Coralie would have to work, and that she’d already sold everything she had for them.

  “This…” Lilianna choked on her words and swallowed hard. “This is amazing, Coralie. I… I think I might have found a way for us, too, though.”

  A cloud of uncertainty crossed Coralie’s face. “Look, I told you. I don’t care that it’s dangerous. We’ll figure it out. I—”

  Lilianna reached into her pocket and took out the gold coin and held it out. “Is this real?”

  Coralie stopped mid-sentence and took the coin wonderingly. She scratched at it with a fingernail, then with one of her silver coins. She hefted it in the palm of her hand. “It seems to be,” she said finally. “Where did you get this?”

  Lilianna gathered her hair, unsticking it from the back of her neck as she pulled it over one shoulder. Then she told Coralie about Aron and his proposal.

  Lilianna saw her friend tense. She looked like she was going to say something but stopped herself, then she swallowed hard, and Lilianna was surprised to see what looked like tears in her grey eyes, although it was hard to tell in the darkness.

  “Oh. Um, what do you know about him?”

  “Not much. I’m trying to figure out how crazy he is. He seems OK, though.”

  “And you’re thinking about marrying him?”

  Lilianna blushed. “I mean, it sounds crazy, but it might not be so bad. I mean, I have no idea why
he’d want to marry me.”

  Coralie was quiet for several seconds. “If you think it’s OK, then maybe it’s OK.”

  “Will you still come with me?” Lilianna asked.

  Coralie’s voice came out choked. “What?”

  “Will you still come with me?”

  Coralie stared at the ground in silence for a long time. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet. “Of course I’ll come with you.”

  Relief from a fear she hadn’t known she had washed through Lilianna. She wanted to hug her, but Coralie wasn’t looking at her. She was still looking at the ground, her shoulders tight.

  19

  Coralie

  After Lilianna left, Coralie relaxed her grip on the canvas bag, felt the blood run back into her fingers. The life she had imagined with Lilianna, the small apartment in the narrow, sharp-angled street, with herbs on the windowsill and laundry strung up across the alley outside, slipped away. The small, scrubbed kitchen table with the single oil lamp illuminating their faces as they laughed and drank late into the night after a long day of work faded, and the soft, single bed in the corner with the disordered tangle of cotton sheets disappeared, too.

  Several thoughts flashed through her mind. She was holding a bag of silver that used to be everything she owned. This was no time for self-pity, though. The old plan had changed, and now she needed a new one. Of course there was someone who wanted to marry Lilianna. If this stranger hadn’t shown up it could have been any number of people.

  Lilianna was worth it. She was better than this place. Coralie would have to go meet this person tomorrow, but she already guessed she was going to meet a well-meaning man. That didn’t mean she was going to go in unarmed, though.

  Coralie moved into the forge, shaking off her disappointment and her fears, and began to work the bellows. The coals from the day’s fire roared to life and she stuffed a few logs in. She thrust in a small piece of iron and waited, watching it take on the color of the flames. When it was red-hot, she wrapped a heavy cloth around her head, covering her ears, pulled the metal from the fire with a pair of tongs, and laid it across the anvil.

  The first hit sent sparks skittering across the dirt floor. She pounded at it again and again, turning it this way and that, beveling the edge into a sharp blade. Beads of sweat stood out on her bare arms and ran in rivulets down the sides of her face. She blinked salt out of her eyes, but she didn’t stop. When she was satisfied with the shape, she tossed it into the cooling bucket, sending up a thick cloud of steam. Then she started on another.

  She didn’t notice her grandmother enter the forge, and she jumped when she felt the light touch on her shoulder, whirling around to see the short, white-haired woman with the still-powerful arm muscles. She had a knowing look on her face and gestured towards to door.

  Coralie, her heartbeat slowly returning to normal, set aside the piece she’d been working on and followed, pulling the cloth from her head and wiping the sweat from her face and neck.

  Two battered chairs woven from reeds sat outside the door, and her grandmother settled into one. The night was cool and silent without the ringing of metal in her ears as Coralie took her place next to her.

  Coralie waited for the reprimand; she’d probably woken up half the village, but her grandmother just stared up at the stars, listening to the crickets.

  “I’m sorry I woke you,” Coralie said finally, when the silence became too much. “I know I shouldn’t have been making so much noise.”

  Her grandmother stretched her legs out, and the reeds creaked underneath her. “Is there a reason you needed to make a complete set of knives in the middle of the night?”

  Coralie shivered as a breeze hit her damp clothing and she wrapped her arms around her body. She didn’t answer. Wasn’t sure how to. To explain fully meant telling too many secrets.

  Her grandmother laid a warm hand on her forearm and squeezed gently. “I noticed there are some things missing from your shelves, too.”

  “I… I just—”

  Her grandmother removed her hand. She looked down and twisted a ring off her middle finger. “This was your grandfather’s. It’s the symbol of a master craftsman. Anyone bearing one of these can find work wherever they go.” She reached out, taking Coralie’s hand and placing the ring, still warm, in her palm, closing her fingers around it.

  “But—”

  “You’re not as good as he was yet, but you’ll get there.”

  They were quiet for a moment; Coralie examined the ring and her grandmother resumed staring at the stars, lost in thought.

  “Your grandfather and I always meant to go someplace else,” she said. “But, well, things just kept coming up. One thing after another. And then we were too old.”

  She glanced at Coralie out of the corner of her eye. “You have fun while you’re young. Go swim naked someplace you shouldn’t.”

  Coralie’s mouth opened in surprise.

  Her grandmother’s eye twinkled. “Eat strange food and get really sick. Meet someone who doesn’t speak our language. See what the rest of the world looks like.”

  Coralie smiled and took her grandmother’s hand, cradling it to her chest and leaning her head on her warm shoulder. She closed her eyes and listened to the sound of her grandmother’s breathing.

  “Do at least one of those things for me, all right?”

  “There are still plenty of places you could swim, grandma.” She couldn’t quite bring herself to suggest her grandmother swim naked.

  Her grandmother shifted. “I’m old now. Sounds chilly.” She readjusted her shawl. “That will have to wait for my next lifetime.”

  “Mmm.”

  “It’ll be all right,” her grandmother said, stroking her still damp hair softly. “Whatever’s troubling you. Those things will be all right eventually, too.”

  Coralie swallowed, and her grandmother laid a warm hand over hers.

  After a few moments, her grandmother yawned hugely. “Time for this old lady to go back to bed. I can’t be up all night planning adventures.” She patted Coralie’s knee. “You just leave me some sort of sign that you’ve gone off on purpose and haven’t been kidnapped, so I know not to send the boys after you.”

  Coralie hugged her tightly and helped her up, watching her shuffle back through the forge and into the house.

  20

  Coralie

  Coralie awoke early, feeling as if she hadn’t slept at all. A thin grey light filtered through the window, and a starling trilled outside. Then it hit her. Lilianna was getting married. To a stranger who had shown up out of the blue. And Coralie was going to go with her.

  She took a deep breath and pressed the scratchy wool blanket over her face. Then she threw back the covers, pulled on her dress and boots, and went to the forge to examine her work from the previous night.

  Yawning, she plopped down on a stool and set to work finishing her knives, polishing and sharpening them until they gleamed. Lilianna was trying to protect her. But Coralie didn’t want protecting, and she especially didn’t want Lilianna to marry someone else in order to do it. But she hadn’t told Lilianna that. Just the thought that Lilianna didn’t know, though, that it hadn’t occurred to her… Well, as much as it hurt, it made sense.

  Part of her wanted to tell Lilianna the truth, but if she did that, she might very well lose Lilianna forever. And she’d rather have her as a friend, if that’s all they could ever be.

  And if they were going to be friends, she was going to do her best to be a good one. She needed to meet this Aron de Tamley, see what he was like.

  She held the smallest knife up to the light and blew the dust off it. The metallic particles sparkled in the sunlight lancing through the small window. Tucking the knife into her pocket, she headed out into the cool early morning air, closing the forge door behind her.

  The walk to the water’s edge was a quick one. Coralie nodded a greeting to the baker as she passed, and he dusted the flour from his hands and waved, smiling. An i
dea occurred to her, and she doubled back, buying a basket of fresh pastries before continuing on her way.

  The sea was calm this morning, smooth and flat, and only little wavelets lapped gently at the pebbled beach. Most of the fishermen had gone out before daybreak, so the docks were deserted, and Aron’s boat was one of the few that was left. The gangplank was pulled up, and no one appeared to be on deck.

  Coralie shouted a greeting and waited. A few moments later, a sallow face with stringy black hair appeared, looking down at her over the gunwales.

  “Can I… help you?” the man asked softly.

  “Is this the boat of Aron de Tamley?”

  “Indeed, it is.” He had yellow circles under his eyes.

  “My name is Coralie. I’m a friend of Lilianna. I’d like to speak with Aron, is he here?”

  “Is he expecting you, miss?”

  “No.”

  “I see. Well, Master de Tamley is… indisposed currently. Perhaps you would like to return later.”

  There was something vaguely unsettling about this man.

  “Oh, of course. Um, I’m sorry to bother you, but do you have a few minutes to talk to me? I brought fresh pastries.” She held up the basket.

  His eyes flicked to the basket. “Concerning what?”

  Coralie touched her collarbone anxiously. “Well, Mister de Tamley has just… proposed to my friend, and I… I don’t know anything about him.”

  The man’s face softened. He considered this a moment, gave a final glance at the pastries, then inclined his head and withdrew. There was some shuffling and scraping and then the gangplank was extended. He walked so softly that he appeared to simply float down the gangplank. When he reached the bottom, he gave her a low bow, his dark hair hanging over his face. She offered him the pastries, and he took a large one.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name,” Coralie said.

  “My name is… Gird, miss.” He took a small bite.