***
Screams brought Talaski from his thoughts, women’s screams. He ran toward them, and then toward the sound of something smashing through the bushes of the city. Who was it? What was it? Was Princess safe?
He found the perpetrator at the foot of the royal hill, a man in rough work clothes astride a heavy horse, jabbering a story to a crowd courtiers, soldiers, and Trackers. The audience looked confused, angry, but mostly scared.
“What’s happening?” Talaski shouted.
“A sea monster in the Port of the Grasshopper,” Jesland said at his elbow. Calmly, as if he had not been running at all. “It tears ships apart and eats men whole. Thee people are begging for help from the Royal Trackers. May I have leave to go and fight it?”
“Men can’t fight a sea monster!” Talaski knew sea monsters. They filled the waters around Bartiese during the mid-summer festival, champions for wizard duels. One must have escaped and come all the way to the Farlands. “You need a wizard for this.”
“We have, my liege, no wizards,” Gneara said as he ran up.
“I’m a wizard, you idiot!”
“You are the Dajournae. This is too dangerous for you.”
The one thing he could do for his people, and he should not because it was too dangerous? Far more dangerous to them if he did nothing. Rather than waste time arguing, Talaski ripped off his heavy royal robe and traveled to the Bay of the Grasshopper.
***
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Chapter 26.6
***
Princess stabbed her needle into the red silk and yanked the white thread through. The women were sewing roses onto the hem of the Pajourn’s nightgown, the one she would wear on her wedding night. The night that she would take Talaski from Princess, and keep him forever. She had made it clear, in every gesture and glance, that while she cared nothing for the little man, she would not share him.
What right had she? Had she been the one to rescue him when he crouched, naked and feverish, in the street? Had she tended him while he recovered? Had she watched as he discovered and learned to control his wizarding powers, giving subtle correction and encouragement when he faltered? Had she climbed a mountain with him, shared her food and warmth with him? Had she ever opened her soul to him, risking her very self to know him better? No? Then why did she, the witch, claim precedence over the one who had?
“Careful.” Lissandra reached over to cover Princesses’ fingers. She tugged the cloth free and set to work picking out the less than perfect stitches.
“Good enough,” Princess snapped in Fartoungue. “For her.”
Lissandra smiled sadly. “He sees you, at least. Jesland, no. Not me.”
“He does,” Princess argued.
Lissandra shook her head.
“Do you talk to him?”
“I try.” She put the cloth back into Princess’s hand. “Careful, now. Show honor, respect.”
Princess blew out her breath. “She pushes me away from him.”
Lissandra stared at the cloth, then spoke softly. “She must be Pajournae. He must be Dajournae. Spiders weave so.”
“The spiders don’t weave for me.” Pricness dropped the cloth, aware that she had made a decision. “I’m going home.”
Littela looked up sharply and narrowed her gaze. “Leave? How?”
“Talaski will send me.” He could send her anywhere, she realized. Not to Fantail-on-the-river, of course. The Lord of the island would not have forgotten her yet, and besides, se had already worked for most of the wealthy men in that small place. But he could send her to another island, or perhaps to Bartiese itself. She would find a new protector quickly, and have both money and a place to spend it. The market in Bartiese was famous.
“You would leave him alone?” The older lady asked again.
Could I even get near him? “He has Gneara, and Jeland, and Daimar...”
“But no friends.” Lissandra picked up the cloth and put it back in her hands. “Don’t leave.”
I already have, Princess thought, thinking of what had passed between them that afternoon. She’s made her choice already. Now she was admitting it. She frowned, thinking of the right words to say.
Screams interrupted her thoughts, from the workers across the clearing. Something big and white crashed through the hedges of the work area, then mud spattered across the dress as the thing hurtled over Princess’ head. Littlela and Lissandra grabbed each other as bruised leaves swirled around, but Princess jumped to her feet and flung choice words at the horse and its rider.
***
Princess stabbed her needle into the red silk and yanked the white thread through. The women were sewing roses onto the hem of the Pajourn’s nightgown, the one she would wear on her wedding night. The night that she would take Talaski from Princess, and keep him forever. She had made it clear, in every gesture and glance, that while she cared nothing for the little man, she would not share him.
What right had she? Had she been the one to rescue him when he crouched, naked and feverish, in the street? Had she tended him while he recovered? Had she watched as he discovered and learned to control his wizarding powers, giving subtle correction and encouragement when he faltered? Had she climbed a mountain with him, shared her food and warmth with him? Had she ever opened her soul to him, risking her very self to know him better? No? Then why did she, the witch, claim precedence over the one who had?
“Careful.” Lissandra reached over to cover Princesses’ fingers. She tugged the cloth free and set to work picking out the less than perfect stitches.
“Good enough,” Princess snapped in Fartoungue. “For her.”
Lissandra smiled sadly. “He sees you, at least. Jesland, no. Not me.”
“He does,” Princess argued.
Lissandra shook her head.
“Do you talk to him?”
“I try.” She put the cloth back into Princess’s hand. “Careful, now. Show honor, respect.”
Princess blew out her breath. “She pushes me away from him.”
Lissandra stared at the cloth, then spoke softly. “She must be Pajournae. He must be Dajournae. Spiders weave so.”
“The spiders don’t weave for me.” Pricness dropped the cloth, aware that she had made a decision. “I’m going home.”
Littela looked up sharply and narrowed her gaze. “Leave? How?”
“Talaski will send me.” He could send her anywhere, she realized. Not to Fantail-on-the-river, of course. The Lord of the island would not have forgotten her yet, and besides, se had already worked for most of the wealthy men in that small place. But he could send her to another island, or perhaps to Bartiese itself. She would find a new protector quickly, and have both money and a place to spend it. The market in Bartiese was famous.
“You would leave him alone?” The older lady asked again.
Could I even get near him? “He has Gneara, and Jeland, and Daimar...”
“But no friends.” Lissandra picked up the cloth and put it back in her hands. “Don’t leave.”
I already have, Princess thought, thinking of what had passed between them that afternoon. She’s made her choice already. Now she was admitting it. She frowned, thinking of the right words to say.
Screams interrupted her thoughts, from the workers across the clearing. Something big and white crashed through the hedges of the work area, then mud spattered across the dress as the thing hurtled over Princess’ head. Littlela and Lissandra grabbed each other as bruised leaves swirled around, but Princess jumped to her feet and flung choice words at the horse and its rider.
***
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Chapter 26.5
***
Returning to the royal palace, Talaski wondered if he could enter the tree alone and unobserved. He had not gone far, however, before he heard the sound of footsteps behind him. He turned, caught Jesland’s eye, and sighed.
The footsteps had been the guard’s way of letting Talaski know he was there. How long he had been following, however, Talaski did not know.
Then, coming from another direction, was Gneara. The watcher bowed politely, and said, “I trust you had a good walk, my liege. It is but an hour now before you must dress for dinner, and tonight you should wear...”
Talaski cut him off with a curt wave. “I’ll think about that in an hour. I’m going to walk in the gardens.”
“Do you wish to summon the Pajourn?”
“Demons, no. And keep quiet, if you must walk with me.”
The Watcher bowed his acquiesence.
And so it was that they went, as quietly as they could, into the maze of hedges which filled the royal garden. There were many little rooms among the hedges, furnished with flowers and benches, were lovers could meet and kiss. Talaski wandered through them aimlessly, wondering how long it had been since he and Princess had been alone. Since they had traded affection and not just physical gropes?
He felt Jesland pause behind him. Talaski stopped and looked back.
“Someone beyond the turn,” the Watcher said in almost a whisper.
Gneara also had stopped, and was listening to the mummer of voices. His face had tightened and his eyes were wide.
Talaski had to see what was there.
Gneara caught at his arm. “My liege, please, I beg you...”
Talaski shook him off. He moved forward, quiet as a thief, and saw what he expected to see: Daimar and Rayden. Her hand was on his chest, his hand was on her shoulder. They spoke with soft words.
Gesturing to Jesland, Talaski asked, “What are they saying.”
“Nothing traitorous, my liege,” Gneara insisted.
Talaski scowled at Jesland. “I asked you.”
“As he says.” Jesland pushed a shoulder toward the Watcher. “Rayden says he must leave. The Pajourn begs him to stay.”
“They belong together,” Talaski stated aloud.
Rayden and Daimar jumped apart as if stung. Both looked at Talaski and bowed, hands together. Daimar’s lip trembled, afraid.
She knows I can’t hurt her. She the Pajourn. But she fears for Rayden. With that thought Talaski grinned wide. He could rid himself of at least one irritant and punish the Pajourn for every insult, every slight.
“Be merciful, my liege, and protect the Balance,” Gneara begged.
Though it wasn’t the Balance he wanted to protect. It was the boy that he could not claim as his son. That no one could claim. And thus...
A sudden new meaning to Daimar’s prophecy occurred to him. “Jesland – I want you to ask the Pajourn a question.”
“My liege,” Rayden interrupted him. “There has been no dishonor here. Daimar has been faithful to you in body and behavior. But if there is to be punishment, let it be mine!”
“Tell her to answer it truthfully.”
“She has always been truthful!” Rayden shouted. “How dare you insult her?”
“Then let her be asked, and let her answer!” Talaski snapped.
Rayden frowned, and Jesland spoke. The Pajourn nodded and answered quietly.
“She will do as you command,” Jesland said, even as Rayden’s face colored with anger.
“Then ask her, if she could marry any man in the land, who would she choose?”
“This is an insult!” Rayden yelled. “She is faithful, even to death!”
“Then let her be asked,” Talaski said. He stared up into the other man’s eyes, but he watched Daimar from the corner of his own as Jesland spoke.
Her gaze moved toward Rayden even as she answered, and stayed there while Jesland translated her words. “”The Pajourn states that as we are all bound by the Balance, our fates are written in the Spider’s web. She will marry the man who will be the next Dajournae.”
This was good enough for prophesy. Talaski looked away. “So she shall.”
“My liege,” Gneara said uncertainly.
“You’ve been reading the web wrong,” Talaski informed him.
At this, Gneara drew himself erect. “My liege!”
Talaski turned away, the matter settled in his mind. Now, how to make others see it?
***
Returning to the royal palace, Talaski wondered if he could enter the tree alone and unobserved. He had not gone far, however, before he heard the sound of footsteps behind him. He turned, caught Jesland’s eye, and sighed.
The footsteps had been the guard’s way of letting Talaski know he was there. How long he had been following, however, Talaski did not know.
Then, coming from another direction, was Gneara. The watcher bowed politely, and said, “I trust you had a good walk, my liege. It is but an hour now before you must dress for dinner, and tonight you should wear...”
Talaski cut him off with a curt wave. “I’ll think about that in an hour. I’m going to walk in the gardens.”
“Do you wish to summon the Pajourn?”
“Demons, no. And keep quiet, if you must walk with me.”
The Watcher bowed his acquiesence.
And so it was that they went, as quietly as they could, into the maze of hedges which filled the royal garden. There were many little rooms among the hedges, furnished with flowers and benches, were lovers could meet and kiss. Talaski wandered through them aimlessly, wondering how long it had been since he and Princess had been alone. Since they had traded affection and not just physical gropes?
He felt Jesland pause behind him. Talaski stopped and looked back.
“Someone beyond the turn,” the Watcher said in almost a whisper.
Gneara also had stopped, and was listening to the mummer of voices. His face had tightened and his eyes were wide.
Talaski had to see what was there.
Gneara caught at his arm. “My liege, please, I beg you...”
Talaski shook him off. He moved forward, quiet as a thief, and saw what he expected to see: Daimar and Rayden. Her hand was on his chest, his hand was on her shoulder. They spoke with soft words.
Gesturing to Jesland, Talaski asked, “What are they saying.”
“Nothing traitorous, my liege,” Gneara insisted.
Talaski scowled at Jesland. “I asked you.”
“As he says.” Jesland pushed a shoulder toward the Watcher. “Rayden says he must leave. The Pajourn begs him to stay.”
“They belong together,” Talaski stated aloud.
Rayden and Daimar jumped apart as if stung. Both looked at Talaski and bowed, hands together. Daimar’s lip trembled, afraid.
She knows I can’t hurt her. She the Pajourn. But she fears for Rayden. With that thought Talaski grinned wide. He could rid himself of at least one irritant and punish the Pajourn for every insult, every slight.
“Be merciful, my liege, and protect the Balance,” Gneara begged.
Though it wasn’t the Balance he wanted to protect. It was the boy that he could not claim as his son. That no one could claim. And thus...
A sudden new meaning to Daimar’s prophecy occurred to him. “Jesland – I want you to ask the Pajourn a question.”
“My liege,” Rayden interrupted him. “There has been no dishonor here. Daimar has been faithful to you in body and behavior. But if there is to be punishment, let it be mine!”
“Tell her to answer it truthfully.”
“She has always been truthful!” Rayden shouted. “How dare you insult her?”
“Then let her be asked, and let her answer!” Talaski snapped.
Rayden frowned, and Jesland spoke. The Pajourn nodded and answered quietly.
“She will do as you command,” Jesland said, even as Rayden’s face colored with anger.
“Then ask her, if she could marry any man in the land, who would she choose?”
“This is an insult!” Rayden yelled. “She is faithful, even to death!”
“Then let her be asked,” Talaski said. He stared up into the other man’s eyes, but he watched Daimar from the corner of his own as Jesland spoke.
Her gaze moved toward Rayden even as she answered, and stayed there while Jesland translated her words. “”The Pajourn states that as we are all bound by the Balance, our fates are written in the Spider’s web. She will marry the man who will be the next Dajournae.”
This was good enough for prophesy. Talaski looked away. “So she shall.”
“My liege,” Gneara said uncertainly.
“You’ve been reading the web wrong,” Talaski informed him.
At this, Gneara drew himself erect. “My liege!”
Talaski turned away, the matter settled in his mind. Now, how to make others see it?
***
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