Death of the Immortal King

by Sarah McCarthy

  The long pause made her wonder if he was telling her the truth.

  Coralie crossed an arm over her waist and bowed. “Numenos bless you.”

  “And you,” Gird returned, bowing but keeping his eyes locked on hers.

  “I’m sorry to bother you,” Coralie stammered. “Do you mind if I ask you some questions about Aron?”

  “You may ask.”

  Coralie opened her mouth, shut it, considered for a moment, then tried again. “You don’t have to answer, of course. I understand if you don’t want to speak about your employer without talking to him first.”

  Gird’s dark eyes stared intently into her own. “Thank you. I understand your concerns. Master de Tamley would not mind my speaking with you.”

  Coralie tried to shake off her deeply unsettled feelings and launched into her questions. “How long have you worked for Aron?”

  “Three weeks.”

  Coralie had the next question queued up in her mind, but his answer drove it out. “How—wait what?”

  “Three weeks, miss.”

  “And how long have you known him?”

  “As I said. Three weeks.”

  “I thought he was a noble.”

  “He is.”

  “Had you heard of him before he hired you? Do you know his family?”

  “No and no, miss.”

  “So, you don’t know much more about him than I do.”

  “Perhaps a bit more,” he said, and something in his tone made her look up. His face had a darkness in it that chilled her, but it was quickly gone. “I apologize, miss. I believe I phrased that poorly.” He paused, and she waited uncomfortably. “What I meant was… no. Not much.”

  “Is there anything I should know about him?”

  Gird paused, his sunken eyes staring out across the sea. “He is a good man. Your friend would do well to marry him.”

  Coralie let out the breath she’d been holding. She wasn’t at all sure what to make of this man. He was unsettling, but she felt like it wasn’t malice on his part. He was deeply troubled about something. Maybe he wasn’t aware of how he was coming across. “Well, thank you. I appreciate your talking with me. I’m wondering, I think I’ve seen another man around, would it be possible for me to speak with him as well?”

  “You refer to Paric. Yes, he is here, but he is also indisposed.”

  “Um, do you mean asleep?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Um, do you know that when you say indisposed it sounds like they’re dead?”

  “Does it?”

  “Yes.”

  Gird looked embarrassed. “Well, I didn’t mean to imply that at all, miss. Paric is… asleep… in his quarters below deck. If you wish—”

  “I’m not asleep anymore with all this shouting,” a voice drawled from above. They looked up to see a blond, clean-shaven man peering down at them.

  We weren’t shouting, Coralie thought, but Gird spoke before she could open her mouth. “Good morning, Paric. This lady is a friend of Miss Lilianna. She would like to speak with you. She has brought pastries.”

  Paric grunted and eyed the pastries. “What about?”

  “Master de Tamley.”

  “What about him?”

  Gird leaned over and whispered, “Don’t mind him. He greatly dislikes being awoken early. He’s usually much more… friendly.”

  “What are you saying about me, Gird? Yqtos’ balls, it better not be something creepy.”

  Gird glanced at her again. “Perhaps I will leave you two to talk? I will be nearby, should you need something.”

  He slouched down the dock, heading towards town, and Coralie, bolder now, strode up the gangplank towards Paric. He was tall and thin and wore an immaculate, sky-blue linen tunic with grey stitching and a leather belt. His bare feet were darkly tanned. His posture was straight and graceful, despite the annoyed look on his face.

  Paric watched Gird’s retreating form. “He’s a weird one, isn’t he?” He helped himself to two pastries and took a large bite of one.

  Coralie didn’t answer, but she wholeheartedly agreed. “Have you known him long?”

  He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “What was your name again?” he asked around the mouthful of food.

  She blushed. “Coralie.” She bowed, but he interrupted her.

  “Like the game?”

  The blush deepened. “Yes.”

  He stifled a laugh. “Who named you that? Did someone win you as a baby?”

  Coralie stiffened. It had been so long since she had met new people that she’d forgotten what it was like, always having to explain her name. “No, my mother named me.”

  “What, were you such a risk-taker as a baby?”

  Her face went stony. “No.” Her mother had been the risk-taker. Had named her daughter after her favorite game of chance. She used to say life was like casting pebbles into a stream, and her daughter was the best she’d ever thrown. Her life had been bright and brief, hot like her own mother’s forge, and quenched early.

  He shifted uncomfortably and leaned an elbow on the gunwale. “No offense meant, girl. Just curious.”

  “It’s fine.”

  He picked his teeth. “I mean, it’s not that weird. I met a man called Dice last week, too. And three men called Eccels.”

  “Really?”

  “No.”

  She blushed further, but she wasn’t going to let him get to her. He could insult her as much as he wanted, as long as he gave her information.

  “Eh, I’m sorry for giving you a hard time. Where I’m from, my name means laundry bucket, so I get where you’re coming from.”

  She was about to say ‘really?’ again but caught herself. “Makes sense,” she said. “I can see the resemblance.” His lips thinned into a smile, and there was an amused twinkle in his eye.

  “So, do you mind telling me about Aron?”

  “Maybe. What do you want to know?”

  “How long have you worked for him?”

  “Only a few weeks. A week or two more than Gird.”

  Two new servants. Not necessarily suspicious, but not what she would have expected. “So, you don’t know much about Aron either?”

  “I know enough.”

  “Do you know what his plans are?”

  “With your friend? I’d imagine they’re what you’d expect.”

  Coralie’s stomach twisted. “No, I mean, where is he going? Is he going back to Tamloch?”

  “If he wants to.”

  Some of her annoyance started to slip out. “Does he want to?”

  “You’d have to ask him that.”

  He clearly didn’t want to tell her anything. That was a good sign, though. He was loyal, even if he was being rude. “I think I’d better wait until Mister de Tamley is up, then. Good to meet you.” She turned to go. “I’ll come back later.” She set the pastries down. “Would you give him these?”

  Paric lifted a hand to stop her. “Look, girl. All I know about you is that you say you’re a friend of Lilianna and you’re named after gambling. I’ve been working for this guy for five weeks now. Maybe he’s got enemies. I don’t know.”

  Coralie bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from saying something she’d regret. She nodded. “I understand.”

  “I will say this, though. He seems like a good enough guy.”

  Coralie didn’t find this very comforting. Good enough was nowhere near good enough.

  A voice from the other side of the deck interrupted them. “Well, that’s nice of you, Paric.”

  They turned to see a man standing in the stairwell, his hair sticking up at odd angles.

  “Wouldn’t have said it if I knew you were going to hear it,” Paric muttered, then wandered off, disappearing down into the hold.

  The man smiled slightly and bowed.

  “Welcome to my ship,” he said. “I am Aron de Tamley.”

  “Numenos bless,” Coralie said, crossing an arm over her stomach and bowing. �
�I’m Coralie, Lilianna’s friend.”

  “Ah, the one who is coming with us, I’d guess. You must be here to see if I’m crazy.”

  Coralie blushed. “I’m here to meet you and see what you’re like before you marry my friend.”

  “I understand completely. If a strange noble woman showed up and wanted to marry Paric because of a priestess I would ask some questions, too.”

  “A priestess told you to come here?” A chill went down Coralie’s arms.

  “Yes. Lilianna didn’t tell you? I guess she didn’t seem as if she liked that part.”

  “No, Lilianna would hate that… what exactly did the priestess say?”

  “That in a half-collapsed cottage in a village called Harfoss there is a young woman with long brown hair and a father more interested in money and drink than in protecting her. That she is someone important, someone who needs protecting, and that she will be my wife.”

  Coralie had never heard such a specific statement from a priest or priestess in her entire life. Maybe he was lying, making this all up, but she didn’t think so. He seemed genuine and kind. And if so, if this was true, was Lilianna truly meant for him and not for her? Maybe friendship was all that the gods wanted between them.

  Aron’s words rang true to her in part because she felt the same. She had always felt that Lilianna was special, and she’d always wanted to protect her. It didn’t surprise her in the slightest that someone else would feel that way, too. And it only surprised her slightly that a message had come from the gods about her. If this was their will, then Coralie wouldn’t fight it. If this was the right thing to do, then Coralie would do it. Even if she hated it. Even if she wanted to be the one with the gold showing up to take Lilianna away from all of this.

  “Well, you’ve come at a good time,” Coralie said, swallowing hard. “We were just about to leave anyway.”

  “Alone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where were you headed?”

  “Kreiss. We didn’t have any specific plans, though.”

  “I’m not one to hold that against you,” he said, smiling.

  Coralie paused. “The thing is, though, is there a reason you have to marry her right now?” She didn’t want to go against the will of the gods, but this was the one part that bothered her. It trapped Lilianna, and Coralie knew that above all Lilianna didn’t want to be trapped. If she were honest with herself, part of her also wanted to hold out some hope for her and Lilianna, and she couldn’t do that if she was married.

  “Oh,” Aron said. “I guess I hadn’t thought too much about that part. I just want to protect her. I’d be fine with not marrying her right away, I just assumed if I showed up and carted her off there’d be a militia after me.”

  “Well, it’d be a militia of fishing boats,” Coralie said. “But, really, as long as you get her father’s permission, you don’t have to worry about that. And all it takes to get his permission is a little gold.”

  Aron rubbed his face in his hands. When he looked up, his expression was bemused. “Thank you. I… I think I was taking the priestess too literally. This… thing that I’m doing… listening to priestesses and doing what feels right… it’s new to me, and I think I overshot.”

  Coralie knew in that instant that she’d been right. He was strange, yes, but he was good, and he had Lilianna’s best interests at heart. “Thank you. You’ve come at exactly the right time. We really need to get out of here and going alone wasn’t going to be safe at all.”

  Aron smiled widely. “Happy to be of service.”

  21

  Lilianna

  Lilianna didn’t pack. There was nothing to pack. Nothing she wanted to bring. In the morning, Aron would come, pay her father, and she would leave with him. She knew that once she left, she would never come back.

  She sat alone in the ramshackle cottage, for the first time in seven years letting the memories come to her. Remembering her mother, her childhood. She looked for the last time on that room, so familiar and so horrible. She’d spent so many nights here. Cried so many times, left this place shaking with fear but returned again in just a few hours, unable to stay away. Nowhere else to go.

  It was late when her father stumbled in, reeking. Lilianna pretended to be asleep and for once escaped his notice. He collapsed onto his bed, his breath low and heavy. Lilianna held her breath against the smell as long as she could, waiting until she thought he was completely asleep, then pushed herself up. She stared through the darkness to where his shape was outlined in moonlight.

  She slipped the knife out of her sleeve and soundlessly approached.

  His arm twitched in his sleep and she paused, hovering over him. Gripping the knife handle tightly, she tried to prepare herself. It had been seven years, seven years since it had happened, seven years she had told herself she would make him pay for what he had done. And now she was leaving, and she knew she would never return. She swallowed, the knife slippery with sweat. It wasn’t pity that kept her from moving, it was fear.

  He would wake as soon as she hit him, and what if he got the knife from her? What if she failed? She gritted her teeth, adjusting her stance. She had to do this right the first time. But she wasn’t moving. She prepared herself again, readjusted her aim, trying to pick just the right spot. Slowly, time passed, and she did nothing. The moonlight shifted, the shadows moved, and she hadn’t. Her heart was pounding, every muscle tense.

  Her father’s breath stopped. Lilianna’s back ached from tension, pain searing through her shoulders. She expected him to open his eyes any moment. To see her standing over him. He snorted and resumed breathing, then he rolled over.

  Lilianna turned and ran. Still carrying the knife, she ran up the darkened streets, through the rotted stumps, and into the forest. There, she collapsed against the trunk of a tree, pulled her knees into her chest and sobbed.

  22

  Lilianna

  Lilianna was still in the woods when the sun rose. She was still clutching the knife. She blinked against the cold sunrise, wrapping her arms more tightly about her legs, and looked at the blade, at the brown stains of her mother’s blood.

  She was leaving today. Aron was going to pay her father for her. Her skin crawled at the thought. She could wait, could tell Aron she needed another day, but would that make a difference? She shuddered, seeing herself again standing over her father’s drunken form. An image flashed through her mind; she saw herself driving the knife into him, imagining exactly what it would be like. She squeezed her eyes shut, rocking forwards and backwards.

  I can’t do it. She dropped her head onto her forearms. I’m sorry, Mom.

  Another image flashed through her mind. Herself in a fancy room in some fancy home, meeting Aron’s parents. She saw herself in a gown and jewels. And Coralie would be there, too. She saw Coralie sitting at the side of the room, smiling at her, but under that smile a look that said, ‘I knew you weren’t actually good for anything.’ She saw Coralie set down a book, bored, walk out, leave, off to do something real with her life. And Lilianna wouldn’t be able to follow her.

  Then Aron swept into her vision, grinning and handing her an amethyst. There was something there, something real and safe and incredibly tempting. It would be so easy. He would protect her, she knew he would. She already somehow trusted him. But could she live with that vision of herself? Maybe if she had been able to kill her father, maybe then. But she hadn’t.

  Lilianna sheathed the knife and tucked it into a pocket. She stood, brushing the tears off her cheeks with her fists and taking a few deep breaths. She knew what she had to do.

  It didn’t take long to find Aron. He was on the deck of his boat, standing amid a pile of crates. Gird staggered up the gangplank carrying a barrel. Water sloshed out the top as he heaved it onto the deck.

  “Morning, miss,” Gird said, out of breath.

  Aron looked up, and when he saw her his face lit up. He hopped past Gird, swept partway down the gangplank and leapt the last ten feet ont
o the dock.

  “Morning!” He took in her expression and his smile faded slightly.

  Lilianna picked at the threadbare cloth of her dress, looking down at the dock.

  “Aron, I, I’m really sorry about this. You seem like a good person… but…”

  She finally looked up to meet his eyes, found them puzzled. She took another deep breath.

  “I’m not coming with you. Thank you for the offer. Thank you for your help. And for breakfast the other day. And…” She fished around in her pocket, pulling out the gold coins.

  “Oh.” Aron’s smile faded. “Oh. Um… Is there any reason? Did I do something?”

  “No, no. You didn’t do anything. I just… I need to do this on my own.”

  He looked at her for several moments, then smiled. He gently pushed her hand away, closing her fingers around the coins.

  “I think I understand. Good luck.”

  “Thank you.”

  He swung his hands and glanced around. “Anything I can do to help?”

  Lilianna briefly wondered if she was making a mistake, but even if she was, she had to do this.

  “No. Thanks.”

  He smiled again, and her stomach turned over.

  “All right. Good luck with… everything.” She turned to go.

  “You, too. Go with Ava.”

  “And you.” She could feel him watching her as she made her way up the dock and back into the village. She let out a long breath she’d been holding as a wave of regret washed up through her. That would have been a much easier life. But only in some ways.

  23

  Aron

  Aron watched Lilianna’s retreating form, feeling a strange shift in his stomach. Something important was walking away from him, but it wasn’t necessarily wrong. It was, though, the first time things hadn’t gone his way in a long time.

  What am I missing?

  He looked up into the cloudy sky, closed his eyes and felt the wind in his hair. Heard the sloshing of the waves against his boat.