An unexpected visit to Tulem brings an unwelcome surprise. Kat and Tyra visit the home of Kat's blood father. Tyra looks for a new dream. Kim's marriage brings on a sense of urgency. Daphne's betrayal brings new possibilities. Arranging a meeting with the Guild of the Slave Traders.

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The Legal Stuff: The Warrior from Batuk  © 2004, 2007 Aardvark
 
This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.
 

 
Photo Credit: 3.bp.blogspot.com

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Chapter 29
 
 
The trip back to Tulem went swiftly with all of us occupied with our own thoughts. We stopped outside Trestia, where I changed my hair and eyes in a cold mountain stream, and donned Ann’s scholar’s robe. Once I was ready, I hugged Father and waved goodbye. In late afternoon I took the ascending road, my cloak whipping in the mountain air, up to Tulem's Gate, where the guards passed me on after taking my identification.

The shadows had covered the valley by the time I passed through the palace gates. Sickened by the events of the day, I wanted to get it over with. The King and Daphne would have been eating supper then, so I left word and a note with a guard outside the royal apartments that I was back and why, and requested to speak with the King at his pleasure.

Back in Ann’s apartment I paced the floor, practicing my story, but I couldn’t concentrate. One fact kept pounding inside my skull: it had to be Met’s sword; he had loved the damned thing and wouldn’t have parted with it unless he was dead. The description, especially the anger Valloran mentioned, matched him except for the eyes. I believed it. My own brother had turned into the lowest form of scum, a thief and a killer.

A guard rapped on the door, calling me to the King’s presence. I followed him down the corridor and up the familiar steps to the royal apartment, my home for nearly half my life. My husband wouldn’t be the same: de-enhanced, he wouldn’t be able to satisfy me completely anymore. Living with Daphne for the last three months, he would be remote. I straightened my shoulders and entered.

I didn’t see Wanda in her usual place, instead finding another woman, a servant I’d known slightly.

Daphne waited to my right close by Franco’s side, a bit nervously, I thought.

“Your Majesty,” I said, addressing Franco, and bent my knee. When I stood again, I motioned with my eyes towards the servant girl.

He took the hint and sent her away. When she was gone, he held up the note I’d written. “You found a trading party robbed and executed?” he said, grinning thinly. “You do seem to find more than your share of trouble.”

I told him about Valloran and what he’d told us. Then I handed him a map that Father and I had drawn up earlier.

“These are the canyons in the area," I said. "The points you see are old hideouts that Batuk used during the border war. One of the men with us was a Batuk raider and showed us.”

His head shot up. “This is important. Did you bring him with you?”

“That's all he knew,” I said and gave him a glance thick with meaning. “My Lord, do you really want to know the men I travel with?”

He sighed and raised his hand. “No."

While he looked at the map, I turned to his mistress. “Daphne, how are you getting along?” I asked with a smile to put her at ease.

“I’m fine.”

I knew that face too well to believe it for an instant.

“I noticed that you replaced Wanda. Did she behave poorly?”

“Well,” she muttered, glancing towards Franco, whose mind was still on the map. “I just wanted a change.”

I had hoped that she would keep her; she could have been my eyes and ears, but Daphne would have known that, too. “As you wish. Where is she now? If you’re not using her, I’ll take her back.”

“I … I loaned her to the guards, Dana.”

At first, I supposed that she was anxious because I returned early: understandable, as it meant that I would be sharing the silks with Franco.

Then, slowly, Daphne’s hand wandered unconsciously to rest over her stomach, an impulse I remembered from many years before. I could barely believe it, but it made a sort of bumbleheaded sense.

Daphne, are you pregnant?

I slipped in a quick look towards Franco, who still studied the canyons. He, at least, had a clear conscience. If Daphne was having his baby, then he was oblivious to it.

After arranging a schedule when I might be brolled without too much inconvenience, I left the royal apartments for the central garden. It was dark by then, with only a few scattered lanterns casting light amongst the paths. A few men and women strolled the grounds. I let them pass then looked up to the stars and burst into laughter.

Herth Tarr had once said, “When the fog clears, close objects come into sharp focus, and the distant mountains are seen for the first time.”

***

It wasn’t too late that evening to see my kids, I decided. I announced myself to the guard at Kat’s door as Scholar Ann, who reported my presence within. My daughter appeared in the opening.

Once I was inside, she whispered, “Mother?”

I nodded, close to tears at being with her again. “Yes.” I gave her a hug and took a good look at her. This late in the evening she wore a comfortable skirt and blouse. The light by her chair and open book told me she'd been reading before bed. She looked almost the same, but the way she held herself, the indefinable taste of maturity said it all. Kat had turned twenty while I was in Batuk. She was no longer the little girl I had raised. Legally, she was a woman, and could conduct her own affairs.

She lifted a finger. “Wait. Let me get Stefan. He should be here,” she said.

“Please.”

It was only a moment before Kat returned with her brother. Dressed in a loose purple tunic for the evening that emphasized his broad shoulders, he was a younger picture of his father. I would have given him a hug, but he was too big for that sort of thing.

“Mother, you're back too soon. Is there trouble? how is Ann?” he asked.

He, too, seemed older, or maybe I'd never seen it. He looked — protective. Of me. Of course, I was smaller. I knew how I looked. I might have dismissed it as that, but his concern didn't look childish. When did that happen?

“Ann's nearly recovered. She misses you both, but she’s found a new home where we believe she’ll be happy. You understand I can’t tell you where she is.”

“For now,” he added, looking at me significantly.

“Stefan….” I sighed. Goddess, my son is still infatuated with her. “Yes. I think that you and I need to talk about Ann.”

He nodded, his adolescent honor satisfied for the moment. “Daphne told me that she was my mother while you were gone.”

He didn’t seem too upset by the revelation, but I was. “My, my, Daphne has been busy while I was out,” I replied evenly.

Katrina stepped to my side. “Don’t worry, Mother, I told Stefan how I was born. We worked it out.”

“It all makes sense now,” Stefan explained, a gleam in his eye. “Katrina is half Borodin and half Ademar who-knows-what. It's no wonder that she's unstable.”

“Huh!” my daughter sniffed, but she couldn’t stop a smile. “At least I’m a full-grown woman, an adult, little brother!”

Stefan pretended to ignore her. “It isn’t hard to understand,” he said. “You and Father agreed to use Daphne as a starting surrogate to protect me from the slave gene in case I was born a girl.” He glanced at Kat and shuddered at the thought of being born female.

“Stefan,” I said, willing him to believe with all my heart, “I'm your mother, no matter how you came to be.”

“I never doubted it for a second,” he replied, clasping me on my shoulder and looking at me in a way that made me ashamed I had feared losing him.

“After what she told Stefan, I don’t trust Daphne at all. And I think she's up to something,” Katrina said seriously.

I didn't tell them my suspicions. I'd know soon enough anyway. “Whatever she’s planning, I’m not worried. Not anymore. As long as you know who is who, there’s nothing she can do.”

***

“Goddess, that was good!” I exclaimed from my back, savoring the buttery feel of the fairly well-brolled. “You haven’t lost a thing, my Lord.”

“A polite lie, but at least I have an extra hour or two during the day.”

“You may not be a god in the Silks anymore, but you are much more than adequate.”

He shrugged. “I can live with that. Now that your satisfaction is out of the way, why did you come back to Tulem so soon?”

“Well, there was a set of murders to report, and I did miss Kat and Stefan.”

“Of course,” he replied, unimpressed. “Now tell me you didn’t return to check up on Daphne and me.”

“I wanted to see how things were going, and I tell you, Franco, I’m not happy with what I found. I am extremely displeased that Daphne told Stefan that she was his mother.”

Franco grimaced, and said in a lower voice, “Daphne should not have done that.”

“And that’s the end of it?” I asked, outraged at his complacency. “Franco, what Daphne did…”

“She’s paid for it. Stefan told her, politely but firmly, that you were his real mother. She wept for most of the afternoon.”

“The tears of a thief! Daphne tried to steal him from me practically as soon as I was out the gate. She couldn’t have waited for his twentieth birthday?”

“I spoke to her about it,” he murmured. “Daphne is not … she isn’t as strong as you. For eighteen years, she watched from afar as Stefan grew into a superb young man. As a mother, I leave you to draw your own conclusions.”

“Daphne will have children of her own someday; she does not have the right to take the last years of Stefan’s childhood from me. She and I will have a talk; her actions can’t be brushed aside as a prank.”

He snorted. “As if I could stop you anyway.”

“Truth. In the meantime, now that Katrina has reached her majority, it’s an excellent time to take her to see her relatives in Ademar. I’d like to take Stefan, too; it would do him good to get out the valley.”

“Just what in Hades are you up to, Dana?”

“Absolutely nothing.” I said indignantly. “Just what I’ve said, and this time I’d plan to stay away until it’s time to change back.”

“That would be best; I doubt that I could handle you both.”

“And rather than in your bed, Daphne would doubtless prefer me hundreds of miles away.”

“That goes without saying,” he said dryly.

“There is one problem, though…” I mused, my hand at my chin.

“By the Gods,” he sighed. “What is it now?”

“Daphne’s breach of trust with Stefan has made me suspicious of her. I won’t leave Tulem now unless you assure me that when I am ready to assume my former body and place at on the throne, I won’t see delays and excuses — for any reason.”

“Your fears are groundless. I gave you my word when I made the bargain with you; I do not need to give it again.”

“Then I will not ask for your word again. Very well. I’ll leave with Kat and Stefan as soon as Kat’s relatives know we’re coming.”

He shook his head. “Kat only. Stefan has his studies, and I’ll send four guards with you.”

“Stefan will be disappointed, but I suppose that will have to do.” I rolled out of bed. “Goddess, I’m a mess. One more thing: do you mind if I personally select two of the guards? The road to Ademar is long.”

He looked towards the ceiling, shaking his head, and then waved his arm dismissively. “Do what you must. I don’t want to know any more about it.”

***

The coach was comfortable, and the road to Ademar was well maintained. After seven days of riding, though, Kat and I were pleased to see the endless spaces, fields, farms, and ranches end.

Thom, the guard I’d cultivated until he’d chosen me for his bedmate, rode forward until he was alongside, shadowing the window of the coach door. He hunkered down and gave us a warm smile.

“Princess Katrina, Scholar Ann, we approach the toll station. It won’t be long now,” he said, his smooth baritone resonating in all the right places. He added a wink for me.

“Thank you, Thom,” I said low and soft, smiling a promise.

My daughter rolled her eyes. After a week of seeing her mother flirt and hearing her cries at every inn along the way, she still wasn’t used to it. I slid to the opposite bench beside her so that we might speak privately.

“What’s the matter this time? Is it that Thom is mundane, he’s not your father, or is it something else?”

“Your personality in Ann’s body rings like a tin bell.”

“You’ll get no argument from me. Ann’s body is all right, but make no mistake, I will have my body back as soon as possible.”

“Oh, Mother,” she said, smiling like a sweet cat.“I hear your words, and in your old body they might have been powerful, even intimidating, but now?” She gave me an aristocratic flick of the hand. “It must chafe so to be harmless.”

“Nobody is ‘harmless’,” I said, glaring at her.

“You see?” she giggled. “Even when you try to project ‘ferocious,’ you emit ‘cute.’ I want to hug you.” She gave me a light squeeze, which I bore in silence. “You’ll have to be careful in Ademar. A pretty foreign woman in the city, especially one so small and who looks so young -- who knows?”

“I wasn’t born last year; I’ll have a guard with me at all times when I’m out, which will be most of the time.”

That brought her up short. “I thought that we'd see more of each other than that.”

“This is your blood family, and you should know them without me bumping into your heels. Kat, if I were here as the Queen, I would. Sephram Ronade saved my life and by delaying them helped preserve Lady Katrina long enough to give you to me. I wish more than anything that I had the opportunity to honor his name and his family, but in this body, all I can do is show them letters written as the Queen. You'll have to honor them for us both.”

She nodded firmly and put her hand on mine. “I will do us proud, Mother.”

“I’m already proud of you, Kat.”

We stopped at a staging area, a nexus of roads, warehouses and official buildings. The customs and toll station stood at the base of the Brandais Bridge, one of the main entrances to the city of Ademar, built where the swift Delune River joined the mighty Cerestes on its leisurely journey to the coast. An inspector in gray and white glanced inside and asked Katrina a few questions, and then we were on our way again, climbing the long stone expanse over the Delune.

Ademar came into view in the side window, its graceful white towers and tall buildings, sometimes five stories high filling the space between gray city walls. I spotted a new current break and a set of docks extending into the waters, a few more boats than I remembered the last time I'd been there, when I'd abducted Angel, but it had the same busy feel to it. The city's crowning glory, the palace on the peak of the hill, gleaming white and yellow in the sun, hadn't changed at all.

Once over the bridge, we clattered through the gate. The houses in that section were stacked high and close together, but the streets were still kept wide following the ancient law. Kat gripped my hand as we approached one of the larger houses. It stood three stories high, with red shutters and tiny balconies on the upper floors. A covered porch with narrow red columns jutted before the main entrance a step above the ground. Above the colonnade, chiseled into the overhang, was the family name, Ronade.

“That must be them,” she whispered, as a man and two women formed a line on the porch.

“Remember, from now on, I’m just Scholar Ann. These are your guards, for your protection. Assign them as you see fit.” I nudged her. “Of course, I’ll expect that Thom will be assigned to me.”

She laughed nervously. “Yes, Ann.”

I left the coach first, the coachman helping me to the curb. In my Scholar’s robe, I would not be mistaken for Katrina. She emerged after a short wait, descending gracefully in her gown of purple and white, wearing the royal colors as easily as a day dress. Her demeanor made it a statement of rank, but she if she'd been born to them. She managed to make it a statement of her rank, but not as a declaration of who she was inside.

The woman in the middle gasped, and clutched the arm of the man by her side. If Kat resembled Lady Katrina, then this woman was the other half. Her hair was nearly the same color, although set in braids, Ademar style. She lacked Kat’s height by an inch or two, but held something of the same bearing, and where Kat’s gray eyes were tinged with blue, hers glistened like polished iron.

Kat’s eyes shone, for she, too, saw herself in the woman. Kat curtsied, as a lady should on such an important occasion, and then flashed them both a dazzling smile. “Grandmother, Grandfather, I’m Katrina. Please call me Kat.”

With that, the woman rushed down from the porch with a tiny cry, and enfolded my daughter in her arms. The other two followed.

“Kern, it’s true. It’s really true!” the woman wailed, practically jumping up and down.

“I see, Mena. I see,” he said, his gruff voice a measure of his emotion.

It wasn’t right to be jealous; unlike Franco’s mother, Hanta, they were her real grandparents. Kat had a right to know them, but if she acknowledging them as her kin would that drive a wedge between us? If she accepted Sephram as her real father, would she one day decide that her real mother was Lady Katrina?

Those were thoughts that shrank the heart, and I pushed them away. She was mine — and this was Kat’s time. It bothered me, though, while these strangers whooped and claimed her as their own, I had to stand back, mute, pretending to be Ann.

What is wrong with me? It must be this way.

The other woman, shorter and more voluptuous than Mena but with a resemblance, smiled and gave Kat a quick buss on the cheek. “Welcome, Kat. I’m your Aunt Sephrena.”

“Oh, you have Sephram’s nose!” Mena gushed.

Kern scoffed good-naturedly. “She looks a lot more like you than her father. Our granddaughter is a girl, you know, and, if I recall Lady Katrina, Kat has her mother’s aspect as well.”

Mena put her arm around her granddaughter, and guided her forward while looking to the guards. “Come inside! We’ll arrange quarters for all of you.”

“Hold,” Kat said, and everyone around her froze. It was one word, softly spoken, but with the hardness of steel. “I will not come inside under false pretenses.”

“But…” Mena said, her mouth open.

Kat turned and engaged her astonishment head on.

“I honor Sephram. He was my blood father, your son, and a brave man. I honor Lady Katrina, my blood mother, a courageous woman. I honor the love they shared that made me, but in my heart, they are not my father and mother. My mother is Queen Dana, who gave me life with Lady Katrina’s dying wish. My father is King Franco, who never made me feel that I was anything less than his daughter.”

Kat looked at them all, meeting their eyes with her head held high, her visage clear and beautiful.

“Grandfather, Grandmother, may I enter your house, discuss with you the arrangements for my men and Scholar Ann, and come to know you?”

As the other two stared with their mouths still open, Kern stepped forward and took my daughter’s hand, as a man to a lady. “You may indeed,” he said, still friendly, but with considerably more respect.

This was not a time for “Ann” to burst into tears, so I did not. The four of them went inside, and we followed. Kat assigned Thom and me a room together, a rather presumptuous move for a daughter to make for her mother, but one I appreciated, and Thom was certainly pleased. Thom brought up our baggage, and I helped stow it all. When we were through, he sat on the bed, still bewildered by what he’d heard earlier.

“I had no idea that Princess Katrina was the King and Queen’s adopted daughter,” he said. “Did you know?”

“Not adopted. The Queen gave birth to her, and she has noble blood on both sides. The Princess is legitimate. What happened was supposed to be a secret until her majority. I suppose there isn’t a reason to keep it quiet any longer.” Not that we could now, anyway.

He took a long time to exhale. “I suppose it doesn't much matter. She’s still a Princess to me. Did you see how she handled herself?”

“I believe you’re right.” I decided then that there was no reason to hold back any longer. Thom probably thought that I was an overly emotional teacher, and that was fine with me. Mixed in with joyous tears that Kat and I would always be mother and daughter, and proud tears of who she was, were a few sad tears, although they were the least of them.

My daughter is all grown up.

***

Thom pointed. “There! Here comes a barge now.”

I moved to his side to get a good look. “Looks like a heavy one. Closer than the last.”

“Truth, girl,” he said, pulling me against him without thinking. “This one might be trouble.”

From my vantage point at the Delune River’s water’s edge, I could just make out the outline of the cargo beneath the gray tarpaulin, huge blocks, likely from one of the mountain quarries far upstream. The barge approached deceptively fast at a steady six knots, its crew of three frantically pulling or pushing long oars to turn the catch face towards shore — difficult with so little time and so much mass. Somehow they managed to shift it into the optimum position. The swing arm crew on the dock also had to move fast, repositioning the end of the swing arm where the crew aboard the barge could grab the line.

Two men aboard the barge snatched the line from the swing arm and, together, wrestled the heavy rope loop over the barge’s catch pin.

“Hah!” Thom yelled, waving the floppy Ademar style hat he’d taken to wearing over his head. “Well done, boys! This is going to be close. Look at them reel the line!”

At the center of the dock was a stubby iron cylinder, the end of a thick rod sunk deep into the river bed and braced with thousands of tons of fitted granite, the pivot point of the barge catch operation. The line, a rope as thick as Thom’s forearm, snaked around its flanges, the end of rope attached to a wheel that turned to draw it in or let it out. As close as the barge was to the dock, the line had to be drawn in a hurry, and two men with legs like trees pushed against the wheel staves, drawing in the slack at a trot.

The capture arc was the key. It had to be smooth, the line going taut just as the barge passed the end of the dock, else when the line bit, it would jerk the barge, possibly snapping the line or breaking the barge.

The moment of truth came with a shot. The barge, with a hundred tons of rock aboard, snapped the line straight as it came around, spraying the air with river water. The barge protested, its rough-hewn timbers groaning, its stress points creaking and crackling. Finally, ponderously, it swung around, the current slapping the upriver side brutally in the shortened arc, overflowing the beam dangerously, until physics forced it inwards around the pivot, coming to rest inside the dock's breakwater.

It was a performance that made all who watched stand up and cheer, and I was no exception, yelling and waving with the rest.

“By the Goddess! What a chance they took!”

“They did,” Thom agreed, grinning down at me. “The barge master has more suren then he has a right to. Most would have ridden past then paid a tow fee to the docks on the Cerestes side. Now aren’t you glad I brought you here?”

“I am. For a moment I was there on the barge, wondering if I was going to go under.”

He angled his head and gave me a funny look. “Sometimes a man will bring his wife or a slave downriver if he has to, but that’s not quite how you’re speaking of it, is it?” He pointed to the barge, now being drawn to the shore dock to be unloaded. “It’s a damned dangerous way to travel; a one-way trip, the current bein' too fast to get back. The catch points along the river are tricky enough, and if you miss one at the wrong time, it’s the night traffic for you, and that’s what turns the insides. At night all you can do is pray to the Gods that the sky is clear and hope the moon is out; likely you wouldn't make it in starlight. You try to stay in the main channel, but in the shadows you can’t always; a hidden log, or a rock will break the barge, and then your rhadus is freezing in the water in the dark, a bad way to die. I’d never let a woman of mine take the chance.”

Kat was my test, and the thought of her in the cold river, her dress pulling her down as she screamed for help, her arms not quite strong enough to hold onto a piece of wood to save herself… I shuddered. “Of course you wouldn’t. How do you know so much about the Delune?”

“I’ve seen a lot of things in the hundred years I’ve been a warrior,” he said proudly, showing me his teeth. “I’ve fought in the marshes at Jert, been as far as N’Grath and Old Illion.” He winked. “Though I picked up what I know about the Delune from a river runner in a siolat tavern.” He snorted. “Ann, you’re a strange one. The other day you spent the entire afternoon watching the Ademar guards practice. Yesterday I could barely drag you out of the weapons shop, and now this …” he said, shaking his hand as he searched for the words, “… adventurous euphoria. The scholars I’ve known are always happiest with their noses glued to a book.”

“An unfortunate stereotype.”

He guffawed.

“Thom, in the places you’ve been, have you met daring women or women who dream of having exciting lives?”

“Well, now, let me see. That’d depend on what you mean by daring, and I don’t usually ask women what they dream about, although, sometimes they tell me anyway,” he said, leering at me, “and if the dream is right, sometimes I oblige ‘em.”

I might have laughed, but I didn't want to make his head bigger than it already was. Thom was so much a typical warrior, with all the swagger of a man who lived his life aware that it could end at any moment. Practically all women were drawn to warriors, whether they admitted it or not. About half tried to convince themselves they weren’t interested, that they wanted a stable man for a mate, and it was partly true: many warriors made bad husbands, either dying young or living too much in the moment, sometimes with other women. My body allowed me no such deception: I was in the other half.

“I tell you true. I’m thinking of leaving the guild someday. I’d like to hear stories of strong women in far-away places doing interesting things, if you have any.”

“If you want to listen to stories about women, that’s fine with me, but it’s not a business to be done just anywhere, is it? It requires a proper setting, and,” he said, rubbing his throat, “it’s thirsty work.”

I groaned. “Sure, let’s go to a tavern, but I’m only paying for one cup of siolat.”

“One cup is all I’ll have, Ann. I mean to protect you just as Princess Katrina told me to,” he said, grinning at me like a buck in season, “all day and all night, preferably. I still say it: you’re a strange one. What are you after with these stories of crazy women?”

“I’m looking for some new dreams.”

***

Tulem’s gate swung into view from the coach window on the last switchback before the customs area. Katrina and I had spent the night at an Inn in Trestia. The morning was cold enough to have ice on the roads, and the mountain breeze ensured that our cloaks stayed firmly wrapped around our shoulders.

From the time she was born, I tried to prepare Katrina for her life. Since I had never been a girl, watching her grow and guiding her through childhood was like living it with her. Like most young girls, she identified with her mother. I tried to be a good example and, with Lady Katrina gone, she became my inspiration become a better lady. The last thing I wanted to do was to corrupt her, to make her an awkward hybrid unsuited for her role in life. How successful I had been was still an open question. Stefan always had his father and, like all boys after a certain age, he was mindful of the natural divide of male and female. Kat, however, had always been mine, and now, even more than before: our time in Ademar and on the road had brought us closer together.

Kat, pressed against me at the window, gave me a nudge, and took a long deep breath of the chill air, letting me know without words how glad she was to be back home. The girl still poked out in places, but she was more a woman now with her own personality, different from both Lady Katrina and me -- as it should be.

Once at the Gate, the Commander welcomed Princess Katrina back personally. Kat thanked him graciously, and we were through without delay, through the tunnel and into the warm valley.

As we came through, a guard left the inside Gate on a horse, riding hard to the bottom of the valley. I doubted that it was a coincidence. I guessed that Franco had left standing orders to be informed of our arrival.

“Kat, we have a stop to make before we return to the palace. Order the driver to go to Paoli’s castle when we reach the valley.”

She did so, and the coach soon pulled through the castle gate. Paoli was on his morning rounds, but broke away when he heard he had visitors. He brought us into his apartments, closed the door, and bolted it.

“Majesty, Princess, welcome back. Before you return to the palace, I must tell you that there’s a rumor that the Queen is carrying a child,” he said solemnly, his hands clasped tightly together. “Unfortunately, it’s true.”

What a surprise. I'd half-expected it, but it didn't make me feel better to hear it.

“Oh, Mother!” Kat wailed, looking at me in dismay.

“How is the King taking this ‘miracle,’ Paoli?” I asked.

“He burns, although he tries his best not to show it. Daphne doesn’t leave the royal apartments anymore, lest her condition be better known. I’m sorry.”

I placed my hand on his shoulder and looked up into his concern. “You’ve been a good friend. This is troubling, but in the end it won’t change anything for me, although Daphne may regret it.”

His sober demeanor lifted immediately, and he broke out into a grin. “The body is different, but the woman is the same,” he stated with so much pride and not a little lust that it made me blush. I wondered if our connection would always be so: it was rare to share battle and each other.

“Thank you, Paoli,” I said, squeezing his shoulder to show that I felt the same. “Is Pel available? I’d like to question her.”

“You mean now?”

“The sooner the better.”

“As you wish. You may find that she is somewhat changed,” he said, his eyes twinkling

I nearly burst out laughing when I saw her in the cell. Pel was still blonde, but that ended the resemblance. She was my height but thinner, and pale green eyes peered nervously from a body that suited a servant girl. She was pretty enough for a man’s use, but she wouldn’t make many freewoman jealous, and with her size and strength, she would be last in any man’s stable.

She was just a slave now, but that engendered no sympathy. Ann’s screams were too fresh in my mind.

I walked towards her with a slave whip in my hand. She cringed a little more with each step. “Assume the slave position,” I ordered. I would question her from her knees.

“Yes, Mistress!” Pel said quickly, dropping to the floor.

I glanced behind me towards Paoli, who stood impassively, a controlling male presence and her master, and then at Kat, standing with hands on hips, glaring. She had insisted on staying to watch the woman who had tortured her teacher and friend nearly to death.

Paoli nodded for me to begin.

“Pel, you are going to tell me everything you know about Master Slavers Ydren Plade and Fera Ramsey.”

“Mistress…” Pel took one look at my uncompromising countenance, then closed her eyes. Tears spilled over her cheeks in a torrent. “Please, Mistress,” she begged me, “Kill me, but not them. It was all my idea.” She tensed for the expected lashes.

Paoli stepped forward angrily, but I bade him stay with my hand. I despised Pel, but I respected loyalty. I took her chin in my hand and lifted her face.

“If I really wanted your former superiors dead,” I said, making the words clear, “then they would be dead already. My purpose, slave, is to arrange a meeting with them. Now tell me without delay, starting with Ydren Plade. What kind of man is he?”

She took a breath, squeezed a few last tears, and began.

When I had what I needed, we left. Once back on the main road I had more time to think about it. I wasn’t concerned about Daphne’s pregnancy; it had likely made my plans easier. I was far more worried about Kim. I wasn’t absolutely sure that she wasn’t in the palace waiting for me. I’d sent father a message when we were in Ademar letting him know where we were and when we’d be back in Tulem, but we had been traveling the entire week, and the post wasn’t always reliable. Had my family sent a message to me that I had missed? Had she slipped out one night?

“Did you ever consider having the slavers killed, Mother?” Kat asked me, startling me from my thoughts.

Kat’s expression was uncertain, not an unnatural reaction considering how unsparing I’d been with Pel. “They’re still alive aren’t they?” I said, making my answer a joke.

“Mother, please answer me. What would you have done if Elsbetth had killed Ann?”

I sighed. “Very well. Even if Elsbeth had murdered Ann, I, or rather, your father, since he has the authority, wouldn’t have had Elsbeth’s superiors killed. He would have said that there was no proof that Elsbeth’s superiors had a role in it besides a slave’s word; and that he wouldn’t put yours or Stefan’s life at risk. I have to agree.”

“It wasn’t just that Ann was stolen and tortured. The lives of the four poor murdered farmers also cry out for justice. Whatever the acceptable level of proof, we know the truth, that these men from the Slavers Guild must have given their approval to the murders that such an audacious plot required. I do not, and neither would Stefan, care to have our safety used as an argument not to punish them. This isn't justice. Isn’t this all about politics?”

Well put, Kat. That is a very good question.

“Justice, power, and politics, the art of the possible … yes, it’s mostly about politics. We don’t want to kill them because it could start a blood feud with the Slavers Guild. They could legitimately cry that we had killed them without proof, and if they retaliated, well, the Guild is vast and we are stationary, more vulnerable.

“It’s a rotten place to be. We know that the Slavers Guild wants to steal the secret of how to stay free, and ultimately kill us both, but they would never say it openly. Instead, they play a game, pretending to be who they are not, and that others they can always disavow later are responsible for any unfortunate ‘incidents.’ Goddess, what to do about it? This isn’t a city one can fight; it's a rich Guild with roots and branches all over the planet. Do I think Elsbeth’s superiors deserve to die? Probably, but everything about the Slavers Guild is deliberately secretive and murky.”

She bit her lip, a sign I knew from childhood, and then she was in tears.

“Kat?” I said, reaching for her hand.

“There are evil people in this world,” she said softly, her cultured voice bearing an edge. “Among them are those who murdered my blood father and mother, and those who killed the farmers, tortured Ann nearly to death, and would kill you if they safely could. While you questioned that awful woman, I thought of what she had done to Ann and the others. Whatever the law, the Master Slavers sanctioned her behavior.” My daughter directed her eyes straight into mine, and there was no doubt her next words were meant for me: “We may not be able to touch them legally, and the way may be as murky as they are, but I very much hope that a way is found to make a proper example, else this will surely continue.”

I laughed nervously at Kat’s “hope.” The way she presented it summarized how she saw me, and something of herself, as well. She was more like I was than I thought. Although I was proud of her for what she said, with a tug at my heart, I wasn’t so sure that it was a good thing for a lady of Tulem to feel the way she did.

As I thought, our arrival was known; the gate to the palace grounds opened for us as we came around the corner. We left the coach at the main entrance to the palace, the coachman helping us down. Franco was there to greet us. My husband managed to appear stiff, embarrassed, and angry all at the same time, which pleased me. I curtsied, but punished him with a frosty gaze that told him I knew about Daphne.

Katrina met him with a hug and a greeting, but when she was in his arms, she whispered loud enough for me to hear, “Father, how could you let Daphne do this to Mother?”

He paled, but he was man enough not to get angry with her. “That is between us, Katrina,” he said firmly. “Change now. I’ll want to hear all about your trip later.” Having made her point, Kat departed without a fuss, leaving us alone except for the guards, who were occupied with our luggage.

Franco nodded, resigned to whatever would come, and gestured towards the staircase. “Welcome back somehow doesn’t seem to be the right phrase.”

“Yes, Majesty,” I said, keeping up appearances, and lifted my skirts at his side as we climbed the stairs. All this suited my plans and I wanted to laugh at this farce, but part of me seethed, too. This was a betrayal, no matter how clumsily done.

When I saw Daphne wearing my own maternity clothes, her stomach bulging with their child, I slapped her as hard as my small body could. She broke down in tears, terrified, as well she should be. Franco winced, but allowed me that much.

“You may be my sister, but I could kill you for this!” I hissed.

That brought him to life. “Now wait a minute, Dana! Mistresses get pregnant. Nobody kills them.”

I laughed, pointing at the cowering woman. “This one tried to take my place! What's the penalty for treason?”

“No!” she wailed. “I didn’t!”

“And baboons play chess,” I sneered. “You thought that Franco would betray me because of the child and his love for you, but despite his poor taste in women, he is an honorable man,” I said, not mentioning that Stefan and Kat wouldn’t have let her get away with it. “Traitor!”

“By the Gods, Dana! We will discuss this now,” he snarled.

“In private, away from her.”

“Privacy would be best,” he stated as it were his idea, and motioned to Daphne to leave.

She whimpered all the way into the maid’s room. When she closed the door, I found a bottle of wine, poured us both a cup at the table, and took a long draft.

“Just to let you know, I had no intention of killing her,” I said, “but Daphne was a damn fool to try it.”

“It’s not what you think. It wasn’t treason.”

“Oh, really. How could it be anything else?”

Franco had trouble meeting my eyes at first, but he twitched from embarrassment, not deception.

“After you left with Ann, Daphne adapted well to role as the Queen -- to the point that it seemed that she believed she was the Queen. It made her happy, and I thought it a harmless role-play, like an actress feeling her part. It was not. For a time, she’d entered an illusion. She's dreamed of raising a child with me and, at the height of her self-deception, she took slaver’s honey. When you returned, of course, reality struck her like a club. She told me she was pregnant not long after you left for Ademar.”

“But that’s madness! How could she let herself believe that she was the Queen? Katrina and Stefan must have been constant reminders. She knew that it was a matter of a few short months before I returned.”

“She recalled a conversation where you said that you might leave. Is this true?”

My face flushed cherry red, for I had every intention of leaving, but Daphne hadn’t been quite honest with him, either. “Not in so many words. She asked if I was planning to leave. I told her that I would never allow Nikolai to ascend in your place, that I would stay for Tulem, and for you.”

He closed his eyes for a moment; that I had considered leaving at all must have come as a blow.

“Well, you did return. Obviously, she heard too much in your words. She dared hope that you would decide to vanish while you were wherever you were. Hope became belief. I know her,” he said in a manner just short of a plea. “She’s not a traitor, just guilty of poor judgment and a lot of wishful thinking.”

“That’s all? Ashtar, Goddess of Mercy!” I shouted, throwing my arms up in the air. “Franco, you’re loyal to a fault. Very well, I accept that Daphne isn’t a traitor, but she is still a fool.”

He sighed. “True. What do you plan to do?”

“I’m returning to my old body soon. It will take perhaps a month to eat and exercise enough to fill it out, and then I’ll return to the throne.”

He threw me a sharp glance. “I won’t permit Daphne to lose her baby. It would be same as killing her.”

I shook my head. “When I take the crown again, the Queen will have a tragic ‘miscarriage’ while Daphne is smuggled out of Tulem. She will give birth outside the valley.”

“I see. And then?” he asked impassively, expecting that I would demand exile, the usual penalty for a mistress who forgets her place.

“And then I don’t care. Bring her back as your mistress if you want; she can return with the baby; you can even claim it as your own if you don’t mind the scandal.”

Franco’s eyebrows shot up like toads. “That’s decent of you.”

“I also want Wanda back as the maid immediately, and when I get my body back, I’ll need Daphne to tell me what she’s been up to in the palace while I've been gone.”

“Done and done. This is all very civilized,” he said, regarding me askance, “Why aren’t you angrier, Dana? What’s your game?”

“You are so suspicious. Can’t I simply be a forgiving person?” But Franco knew me too well. I decided to come clean, at least partially. “I suspected that she was carrying a child before Kat and I left for Ademar.”

While I explained, his face reddened. “You knew she was carrying a child, and put me through all that?” he roared. “Do you have any idea what it was like these last two months?”

“I didn’t know she was pregnant, I only suspected it. If I'd brought it up earlier and been wrong, you would have been furious with me. Even as I wondered about Daphne, I was never angry with you, though. I knew that you would have had nothing to do with any nefarious plot, and that my crown was secure in your hands.”

On impulse, I reached across the table for his hand. After a second, he grasped it firmly, and we gazed at each other. Franco was embarrassed at the affair, certainly, ashamed, possibly, for allowing it to happen; although, he, of all people, should have know how independent women could be. But at the heart of it, the part that mattered, I knew he would not have betrayed me for Daphne no matter what the temptation; this man still protected me. At some level, this stubborn, handsome man and I still shared a measure of respect.

“Let’s hope that Daphne has learned something from this,” I said.

“Dana, I have no right to ask you this, but would you talk with her sometimes? She has always been naíve, and this — misunderstanding has brought her to her knees. She doesn’t know what to think anymore.”

I snatched my hand back. “You want me to be friends with her?” I exclaimed. “After this?”

“I love her, Dana,” he replied, shrugging helplessly. “I don’t know why, but I can’t stop it.”

I know how that is.

“All right,” I sighed, “I’ll see what I can do. I wouldn’t do this for anyone else.”

My work in Tulem was nearly done. The quota of ten lords I’d allowed wives from the outside had filled quickly, their wives an alluring spectrum of colors and cultures. My popularity with the ladies dropped to frigidity, but the newly married lords toasted my name, and, incidentally, held most of the power in the valley. More ladies left to marry outside the valley, and one had even married a wealthy mundane merchant in the city.

What Ketrick had envisioned was coming to pass. A few half-nobles had already been born, and quarter-nobles would follow in fifty years or so. Someday, the aristocracy would be diluted to the point where Tulem would never threaten Batuk in the same way again.

I watched Franco enter the maid’s room to meet his lady-love. Would I have stayed with Franco if he had accepted my fiery side, if he had continued to love me, instead of choosing this ditz-willow? Deep down, I already knew the answer.

Yes, but Franco would have had to be someone else.

I heard words exchanged, and then Franco’s mistress wailed in joy, followed by more words. They left, arm in arm, Franco guiding her protectively. Terrified at seeing me again, she slowed as she approached. Franco nudged her gently, and she bent her knee to me in a nervous curtsy. Once she stood again, I stepped forward, and she swept into my arms.

“I’m so sorry, your Majesty!” she wept, pressing against me. Her baby bulged at my stomach, but I didn’t care; it wasn’t my problem anymore.

I patted her gently on the back “Daphne, call me Dana. Sisters should be friends.” I released her and gave her a big smile. “Let’s try to forget all this.”

She nodded and wiped her tears away.

“I’ll come by this afternoon and we’ll have wine and talk of old times. Everything will be fine. You’ll see.” I smiled again.

Franco looked on with approval, satisfied that his house of women was tranquil once more.

Once in the hall, I asked a guard who knew Kim if she had returned to the palace, but he shook his head. Relieved, I returned to Ann’s room.

In the mail basket, among a couple of notes from people who hadn’t known Ann was gone, was a letter. I slit the seal and unfolded the expensive parchment. It was a wedding announcement: Kim and Ron had married two weeks ago.

I sat down to think about it. The marriage had been inevitable, considering the way they felt about each other, but Ron wouldn’t have married her so quickly unless Kim had been asking the wrong questions about Tyra l’Fay, or if she told him that she wanted to return to Tulem. Ron would have insisted on an extended honeymoon. Kim would have obliged -- for a time -- but my new sister-in-law was too curious and duty-bound to stay in Batuk forever. Someday Ron would have to chain his new wife to a wall to prevent her from returning, a marriage-ending event if I ever heard one. To avoid that I owed it to Kim and Ron to do what I had to do as quickly as possible.

I left the room and walked out the palace gate, down the streets I’d traveled so many times as Queen, but anonymous once more, a smaller woman weaving her way among slow-moving carts and hundreds of people. It was nearly lunchtime, and the spices, some unique to Tulem, filled the air, reminding me that I was hungry.

It was a good time to stretch the legs, with the air warm but not too warm, and the sun high, and so I continued, out the city gate, across the main street and onto the green grass surrounding the lake until I came upon the spot by a large tree where a young Queen used to go to think more than a quarter-century past, when times were more uncertain.

The grass was dry and warm in the sun. There was no one around, so I sat on the ground, legs spread, in the same place I used to so long ago, and closed my eyes. Lady Katrina had told me in different ways that, unlike a man, a woman feels herself more a part of the world. This is true, although why it is so isn’t clear.

How many the facets of a woman’s world! How completely we are joined to children, our homes, our friendships, and our husbands, the whole of it a complex weave of connections and emotions.

Was it all a part of living our place in the world, where the men fought, built, and stretched the limits of what could be done while we women stood by their side, in spirit if not physically, created life, nurtured the next generation, passed down traditions from our mothers, demanded that our men behave with honor -- carried civilization forward, as my mother might have said?

Or, had I become more a part of the world naturally with my body, my female instincts bringing everything closer, making me a better fit for this monumental task?

As I sat there, feet spread comfortably wide, the scholar’s robe draped softly over my legs, fingers relaxed amidst the blades of grass, and hair thrown to one side, I decided it didn’t matter. It was, and that was enough. For the moment, at least, I belonged there, in the grass with the valley around me and a part of me. In a sense, Tulem was more my own than my birth city. Batuk beat strongest in my chest, but I was tied to the valley: my husband lived here; my children were born here; as Queen, I represented her as best I could.

I sighed.

All that was passing. With luck, I would find another place to extend myself and call home, perhaps in Pasri, to become one of the independent women captains Thom told me about, or join a caravan and stretch my awareness from the far corners of the continent. Both appealed to me — and I would have to find a man who could accept me. I had learned better control over the years -- the desperate days where I had to be brolled in a week or submit were likely gone -- but I wasn’t the same person I used to be, nor would Zhor lightly permit a woman to roam as freely as a man. I didn’t want to be alone.

After a time, even bonding with a valley becomes boring. I rolled to my feet and brushed off my robe before heading back. There was lunch, and then the real work would start.

***

I returned to the apartments in mid-afternoon, having eaten, stuffing myself with meats and pastry to bulk up before taking Ruk’s serum. I had twenty pounds to gain, which I could do before or after the transformation. After announcing myself, an old friend answered the door.

“Mistress, please come in. The Queen is expecting you.”

Wanda looked none the worse for wear after five months servicing the guards. I would have hugged her if Daphne hadn’t been there.

“Welcome back, Wanda.”

She beamed. “Thank you, Mistress.”

Despite our friendly parting earlier, Daphne looked nervous without Franco at her side. She had probably been told to be especially nice to me; four bottles of various vintages stood on the table by a variety of snacks in wicker baskets.

“Please relax, Daphne.”

For once, I was glad that I had an unimposing body. My natural laughter was soft, and my voice generally high and sweet. As I couldn’t take much alcohol, I had only one glass of wine, sipping it slowly, while she had two. At first, we talked about my trip to Ademar, then I directed the conversation to Tulem, listening to Daphne speak of her time as the Queen.

“…of course, since I started showing, I’ve been confined to the apartments,” Daphne finished, glancing quickly to see how I would take the reminder of her pregnancy — as if I couldn’t see the evidence in front of my face.

“Franco said that you did very well as the Queen while I was gone.” I paused when her eyes started to panic. “Look, I’m not bringing this up to frighten you. I’m happy you could do it so well. Royal functions must be attended, ceremonies observed, and so forth. You’re going to have to be the Queen for the next month, and you can’t do it in here. There’s no reason to hide that you’re having a baby any more, and I want to avoid the rumors that must be flying now, that you must be ‘locked’ away as a prisoner. You won’t have to deal with them later; I will.”

“Yes, I see,” she said, her eyebrows furrowing. “I’ll do my best, but it was a lot easier to think of myself as the Queen when you weren’t around. You frighten me at times.”

“Why?” I asked, honestly bewildered. “Didn’t I help you before I left? Aren’t you my sister?”

“Well, being your last relative is little comfort,” she replied, holding her arms as if she had a chill. “You killed Marco, and Gina is probably serving men in a siolat tavern. This morning, I was sure that I’d be exiled to the Forlorn Mountains or the Bay of Eels.”

“And yet, despite some considerable provocation on your part,” I said, tipping my glass towards her, “you are drinking wine with me on this pleasant afternoon instead of being tied over a horse.”

“Truth,” she sighed.

“Good. By the way, you and I will leave later this afternoon to see Abul the slaver.”

“Dana?” she said nervously.

“I need your help.”

I wrote a short letter, sealed it with the purple wax, and stamped it with the Queen’s seal. Then I handed it to Daphne.

“Only a few people in Tulem know who you and I really are, and I made sure Abul wasn’t one of them. You know that Ann and I are serum girls, but unless Franco told you, you don’t the story behind it or what’s going on now.” I went on to tell her the pertinent details about how Merton became Ann, her kidnapping and torture, and Elsbeth’s submission and interrogation. “It bothers me that the Slavers Guild didn’t try to contact me after they failed to kidnap Ann. Maybe they’re afraid of me, maybe they think I don’t know who they are, or perhaps they’d like to pretend it never happened, but it’s more likely that the Guild is up to something. I must meet them whether they want to or not.”

“Dana, will this be dangerous?” she asked, placing her hand over her child instinctively.

I understood that fear to my core, and reached for her hand. “Not this part,” I said, much softer this time. “The danger will come later, when we bargain. By then, I’ll be back in my own body, and I won’t need you. But this is important. As long as we don’t have an agreement with the Guild, Ann and I -- and others, perhaps -- are at risk. We could be killed at any time.”

“Goddess of Mercy. That’s what this letter is for, to meet with them?”

“Yes. We’ll go to Abul’s store, and you will hand him this letter. You must tell him that it has to be delivered immediately. He’ll know what to do after that.”

“Is that all?” she said with an airy wave. “I just give it to him and say a few words?”

“As simple and as difficult. Daphne, you must be convincing. This rhadus and I know each other too well. You’ll have to be me.”

“I’ll do my best, but you need to tell me everything about him, just in case.”

I smiled, liking this better. Daphne had her points. Once she was pointed in the right direction she generally did all right.

Later that afternoon, we arrived at Abul’s store.

The guards burst through first and spread out, with Daphne and I trailing just behind. The store was unchanged save for a new display covering the gashes I’d made throwing my knife. Arondhetti stood in the back, as quietly and still as possible, having the sense to keep her distance.

Abul hesitated then moved to the center of the floor, where he stood nervously in his slave leathers, still managing a decent bow.

“Majesty, a pleasure…”

“Take this.” Daphne said to the slaver, handing him the letter.

Abul took it and glanced at the two names on the envelope, which he recognized and obviously wished he hadn’t. “Majesty, may I suggest…”

“I’ve completely lost my patience with the Guild! They should have contacted me long ago. It seems that I must do the Guild’s work for them. Deliver the letter immediately.”

“Majesty, I, uh…” He frowned.

I tried to help by glaring at him, imagining myself as Ann furiously confronting the man responsible for her torture, but he barely noticed me. On reflection, I supposed that a small passion slave serum girl wouldn’t intimidate a slaver overmuch.

Daphne was having better luck.

“You would look pretty in pink!” she exclaimed with a gleam in her eye, piercing the thick slaver’s equanimity like a javelin.

“Majesty, these men may be hard to find,” he protested.

“They are important people; someone will know where they are. Pink!” she said again, raising her finger high in the air. Then she whirled, leaving without a backwards glance.

The last was overdone, I thought, but I was impressed, and when we were safely back in the palace, I told her so.

“Really? By Ashtar, it felt right, but it’s hard to know. Before you came back I imagined that I was the Queen at times, but I was aware that I wasn’t you. I know I slipped a few times because I had a few strange glances. When I could, I let Franco do the talking.”

“That’s interesting. Then it’s time to find out where you slipped up.”
 
 

 
I hope you liked this chapter. It was a bit slower than most, but it pays off with the last two chapters where there is more action and excitement. ~Aardvark