Blood and Memory (34 page)

Pil nodded. “That’s right. Koreldy brought her to us seeking shelter and sanctuary. She had been abused by the Crown and I don’t put that lightly, sir,” he qualified, his complexion flushed as everyone’s attention suddenly locked on him. He too had been sworn to secrecy about Wyl and was terrified he might slip up. “Romen left her with us.”

“And then the King’s men burned Rittylworth, you say—and its monastery too? Whatever for?” Liryk asked.

“My home!” Pil said, his eyes misting. “They were sent by the King, sir, on orders to raze the village and teach it a lesson for harboring Ylena Thirsk. They were calling her a traitor, presumably because of her brother’s actions.”

“None of which was traitorous, to my knowledge,” Elspyth said, realizing too late she would have no reason to know Wyl Thirsk. Fortunately, the Commander was suitably confused and did not pin her down on this point. She suspected Valentyna might have done so and knew she would have to be still more careful.

“The King sent Faryl of Coombe as well,” Crys added. “She had come to Tenterdyn, looking for Ylena, supposedly to kill her as per Celimus’s orders. This we have learned through Aremys, who was meant to aid Faryl. I know it sounds like overkill, Commander Liryk, but the King is determined to murder Ylena and anyone who protects her.”

“And this Aremys you speak of, if he is a hired mercenary, why does he want to help you?”

It was a good question. Crys hesitated. “He is a friend of Romen’s,” Elspyth cut in before either of her companions could form a response. “I gather they were both of Grenadyn,” she added, recalling something Wyl had mentioned.

The Queen reentered. Both Liryk and Crys stood immediately and bowed. Pil leapt to his feet too late and Elspyth was not sure whether she should curtsy again—she did so, just in case.

“Relax, everyone,” Valentyna said, pushing away strands of hair. “We have much to discuss. You people need a rest first, though. Duke, Elspyth, Pil,” she said, “please follow Stewyt, who will show you to some rooms where you can sleep for a few hours and refresh yourselves. Commander, I have called a meeting of our senior nobles. Krell is gathering them now. We meet this evening. The news from Morgravia is extraordinary.”

Elspyth lay restlessly on her bed in a small chamber that smelled of fresh herbs and offered a beautiful view of Briavel’s orchards. She knew she would not sleep even though she was desperately tired. The refreshing bath and the generously left garments had made her feel all too awake, in fact, and so she welcomed the soft tap at her door when it came an hour or so after she had been shown to her room.

It was Stewyt again. “Her highness wonders if you would care for some company, Miss Elspyth,” he said, nodding a small bow.

Elspyth was both surprised and delighted by the invitation. “Of course,” she murmured. “I’ll just fetch my shawl.”

She followed the lad through the corridors and stairways she had passed earlier but soon realized that they were not headed deeper into the palace.

Stewyt must have read her thoughts, for he said, “The Queen will meet you in the herb gardens,” and he held open a door for her that she realized led out toward the back of the kitchens and scullery.

They found Valentyna picking lavender. She had changed into a deep purple gown. Once again, no adornments.
She needs none
, Elspyth decided, admiring the Queen’s fresh-faced natural beauty.

Valentyna looked up at the sound of their arrival. “Oh, I’m so glad you came,” she said to Elspyth, smiling warmly as if she were welcoming an old friend. She handed the stems to the page. “Thank you, Stewyt. Would you have these sent up to my chambers,” and she turned back to her guest. “Walk with me—it’s a beautiful afternoon and these gardens do wonders for my spirits.”

Elspyth hardly knew what to say as she fell in with the Queen’s graceful step.

“I thought you might find it easier to speak freely without the men,” Valentyna admitted conspiratorially.

“Thank you, your majesty. Crys is having to face so much—it’s certainly difficult talking about it all.”

“I can’t imagine what he’s going through, losing his family in such horrific circumstances.”

“Do you believe us, your majesty?” Elspyth asked in her direct way.

The Queen paused beneath a lemon tree. She inhaled its fragrance. “Yes,” she replied softly.

Elspyth let out her breath, suddenly feeling tears of relief sting her eyes.

“Do you know that Romen Koreldy is dead?” Valentyna asked, just as directly.

Elspyth nodded. “Word travels fast.”

“From whom did you learn this news?”

Elspyth felt trapped. This was clearly a test. She wanted to be as honest as she could with this woman, but she could not betray Wyl’s wishes once again.

“From Faryl,” she said, making a decision.

“And how did she hear of it?” the Queen asked, bending down to smell some basil.

It seemed a nonchalant response, but Elspyth sensed an underlying tension.

“I gather she was in Briavel, your highness.”

“I see. That’s interesting. Would you describe her to me—I do have good reason for asking.” She handed Elspyth a small bunch of mint to smell and smiled disarmingly.

Elspyth took a deep breath. “She’s tall and strong looking; a handsome woman. She has a very direct golden-green gaze,” she said, remembering Faryl in better detail as she concentrated, recalling those terrible few minutes after Wyl had arrived at Tenterdyn.

Valentyna put her hand on Elspyth’s arm. “Ah, yes, her eyes have a feline quality, don’t they…and her hair is an oddly golden-brown color, not unattractive but unfashionably short for a woman.”

Elspyth blushed as the Queen turned her own hard blue gaze on her. “Yes,” she stammered. “That sums her up rather well.”

Valentyna’s look darkened. “I believe, Elspyth, that this Faryl you speak of is the very same Hildyth who murdered Romen. No one else believes me here. It’s not something that matters to them, but it matters very much to me to know who took his life.”

“She…she is in Celimus’s employ. Aremys confirmed that she is an assassin, your majesty, paid for by the King of Morgravia.”

Valentyna raised her face to the sky in obvious despair. “I knew it,” she said in a choked voice. “She killed him as he made love to her.”

“Please, your highness, let’s sit,” Elspyth suggested, taking the Queen’s arm and encouraging her toward a low stone bench surrounded by sweet-smelling bushes.

“Thank you,” Valentyna said when they were seated. There was a slightly awkward pause, which she filled by snatching at the one stray tear that threatened to roll down her cheek. “May I tell you a secret, Elspyth?”

“Yes.”

“I was in love with Romen Koreldy.”

“He was an easy man to fall in love with,” Elspyth admitted, unsure what was expected of her.

“How well did you know him?”

“We met each other in Yentro. We were captured together by men from the mountains.”

“I know.”

“You do?”

“He told me everything of his time in the north.”

Not everything, Elspyth suspected. “Then you’ve heard him speak of me, highness.”

“Yes, I know of you, Elspyth. It’s why I do believe you regarding this terrible business at Felrawthy. But all of my advisers and the nobility of Briavel want me to marry Celimus so badly, I need to give them proof that he is as sinister and treacherous as you tell us.”

“And the death of your father is not sufficient, I presume?” Elspyth said bitterly, and then, realizing what she had said, she grabbed the Queen’s hands and swung onto her knees before Valentyna. “Oh, your highness, forgive me,” she begged. “That was so cruel. You’ve been very fair with us—I just feel so frightened and desperate.”

Valentyna smiled softly at the bowed head of Romen’s friend, wondering how he had not fallen for this pretty, feisty woman who had come into his life before she had.

“You’re forgiven, for it is a fair accusation,” Valentyna replied. “But you need to understand that we cannot risk war with Morgravia, Elspyth. This is diplomacy at its most frustrating. It seems my father’s death must be overlooked in order for peace to be won for Briavel.” She paused before adding, “Romen mentioned a mountain man called Lothryn.”

Elspyth flinched at the name and saw the recognition of that reaction reflected in the Queen’s imposing gaze. Honesty was required here. She nodded. “A very brave person who put our lives before his own. He defied his king, probably paid for it with his life.”

“Romen said that you and Lothryn are in love.”

“I…we were…are, your highness,” Elspyth admitted, deeply disconcerted that Valentyna knew so much about her. “I will never love another.”

Valentyna’s expression showed the ghost of a sad smile of agreement. “Then you will know how hard this is for me. I too can never love anyone else now that I have loved Romen Koreldy, but I’m being forced to marry the man who organized the death of my father, of Romen, of Wyl Thirsk—who tried to warn me about Celimus.”

“Don’t marry him, your highness,” Elspyth warned. “Do everything in your power to avoid it. Did you read Ylena’s letter?”

“I did. She wants me to wait for her. She claims that she will help me.” The Queen gave a short, hollow laugh. “What can a young, helpless Morgravian noblewoman on the run from her own king do to help the cause of the Briavellian Crown?”

Elspyth agreed. It did sound futile. She desperately wished she could tell the Queen the truth. “Trust her is all I ask. She begged me to implore this of you and to offer my services to you.”

“Yes, she mentioned that too. I’m glad of the friendship, Elspyth, really I am, but I’m afraid I can’t completely understand her concern.”

Elspyth nodded, returning to sit beside Valentyna.

The Queen sighed. “The worst of it is that I do want to trust her! Her letter takes the same tone that her own brother, the General, did in our only meeting. Romen made me feel safe and secure; Wyl Thirsk did too when he ordered me to accompany Fynch to make our escape from the mercenaries who killed my father. And now his sister conveys the same sense of strength.” She shook her head. “I miss Fynch. He’s gone too, you know. Did you ever meet him?”

Elspyth held her breath at what Valentyna had just said. Without knowing it, the Queen had already hit on the truth. Her senses served her well. “No, but Romen did speak of him.”

“He’s a very special person. Odd, most might think, and incredibly serious, but there’s something about him I can’t really explain. It’s as if he’s all-knowing, or at least more enlightened than I often feel.” She turned to look at Elspyth directly. “Do you know what Fynch believes?”

Elspyth shook her head slowly; could guess what was coming.

Valentyna raised her shoulders in a gesture of helplessness. “He believes that Wyl Thirsk and Romen Koreldy are somehow linked. I don’t mean through friendship. He claims there is a spiritual link, as though they could be as one. Are one, in fact, though he does stop short of saying that. Now what do you say to that?”

Elspyth squirmed, the truth aching to escape from her lips. She fought the temptation. “Queen Valentyna, I hope you won’t be offended if I admit that I believe very strongly in spiritual connections. I never doubt that souls who belong together will always find one another again. Even after death they will be reborn and search for one another.”

“Do you really?”

She nodded. “I do, your highness. And it’s why I believe you and Romen will find each other again.” Elspyth skirted the truth as closely as she dared.

“But not in this life,” Valentyna admitted sadly.

“You never know, highness. There are those who believe that sometimes if a life is taken early—before it is ready to be gathered by Shar—it stays close to the ones it loves.”

Valentyna smiled at her. “That’s a rather lovely way of looking at life. It lifts my heart just to hear you say it, even if I can’t believe it.”

“Oh, you can believe it, your majesty. Allow yourself…take a risk and believe it.”

Elspyth seized her opportunity. She owed Wyl Thirsk this much. “I believe that some people are reincarnated. Perhaps you should listen more carefully to your friend Fynch. It’s to this which he refers, I’m sure. And you must promise me that should another person look at you and perhaps touch you emotionally as Romen did, reminding you uncannily of the man you’ve loved, that you will permit it.”

“Permit them to love me, you mean?” Valentyna said, her voice laced with gentle amusement.

Elspyth nodded. “Perhaps even a woman,” she dared.

“Because it might be him?” Valentyna’s dark eyes flashed with both embarrassment and bemusement.

“Yes.” It was a risk, but she was glad she had taken it.

The Queen surprised Elspyth by leaning across and giving her a hug. “I’ll remember that. Now come, I have avoided it long enough.” Elspyth looked at her quizzically. “I’ve called a meeting of the nobility. It’s serious and why I’m hiding here.”

“Quiet time?”

Valentyna nodded, knew Elspyth would understand. “Thinking time too. I feel as though I’m about to enter a chamber where I’m bargaining for my life.”

Pil preferred to remove himself from the world of politics and asked to be excused to spend time in the palace chapel with Father Paryn, a man he took to immediately. Crys and Elspyth were invited to attend the meeting, which brought together the most senior people in Briavel. Respecting the sensitivity of the issue, Chancellor Krell made notes from the meeting himself, which he planned to dutifully copy out for the two important nobles who were not readily available in the capital. Couriers were already organized to carry the details of the meeting to their respective destinations across the realm.

The Queen arrived somberly. The feeling of tension was overwhelming. Krell dismissed all servants, and when privacy was assured, Valentyna addressed her inner sanctum of advisers, first introducing Elspyth and then the new Duke of Felrawthy to the muted sounds of shocked whispers, as most were familiar with Jeryb Donal’s towering reputation.

“Gentlemen, these Morgravians are our guests and enjoy the full protection of Briavel. They risked their lives to bring us information, riding here in urgency, crossing their border and outrunning their pursuers, whom we are presuming had been sent to execute them.” She allowed her words to sink in. “With them, Duke Donal and Elspyth have brought grave news from our neighboring kingdom.” She waited for the hushed murmurs to die back and then outlined succinctly the torrid events that had unfolded.