The Fall of the Dagger (The Forsaken Lands) (43 page)

“I think you need to speak to the shrine keeper of the Ustgrind shrine.”

“I can’t do that! How could I trust him? What if he questioned Karel’s parentage? What if he made a connection between Piper and Karel, because of what happened in Betany? He’d know about that, wouldn’t he? You just told me unseen guardians talk to one another.”

“Yes, but I’m not sure guardians tell their shrine keepers everything.”

“The shrine keeper of the main Ustgrind spring does not like me, and I will
not
go to him. Especially as I would apparently be suggesting
that he commit suicide in the interests of my son, who just happens to be a sorcerer.”

Mathilda folded her arms and glared. Sorrel knew that look; there was no way the Regala would change her mind. She had to think of something else. She said carefully, “There will be a guardian and a shrine keeper somewhere who will make the sacrifice for the well-being of the Way of the Flow.”

Mathilda brightened. “Our palace in the hills – that has a small waterfall shrine! Only the local staff go there. The shrine keeper adores Karel. She would do anything for him!”

Sorrel crushed a desire to judge her for her callousness. “When will you be going there next?”

“We always go in the spring, when the flowers are out. Can it wait till then?”

“The sooner the better, but yes, if that’s the only way you will do this.”

“It is.”

“We will go with you when the time comes. But you must realise this: the prince-regal will have to be closely watched even afterwards, especially through the years just before he reaches maturity. That is when sorcery usually starts to manifest itself. We think he should continue to wear the circlet. Ardhi’s Chenderawasi kris will tell us if it fails. At least, that is our hope. But the kris has to be in proximity with the wearer.” Sorrel locked her gaze on Mathilda’s before adding, “As often as possible.”

Mathilda’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying I have to allow – on a day-to-day basis – your foreign husband around the heir to the Basalt Throne?”

“Well, not every day, but often might be a good idea,” she said, almost spitting the words out, “don’t you think?”

“But he’s a lascar!”

“Indeed. A very handsome one. A brave one. And no fool. An asset to any court, in fact. It wouldn’t have to be
every
day. Perhaps several times a month.”

Mathilda glowered. “I’d forgotten how very
rude
you can be, Sorrel.”

Containing her fury only with an effort, she replied, “Your Grace, if anything does go wrong with the feather’s cleansing of Prince Karel,
or the circlet’s protection of him, something which neither the kris nor Ardhi can fix, then you will have to seek help from the Chenderawasi Islands.”

“What are you trying to say? You are beginning to sound like an emissary of a nation of the Va-forsaken Hemisphere!”

“They
will
help –
if
our traders and sailors have been treating them with respect and fairness, and
if Ardhi asks them to
.”

Mathilda stared at her blankly.

Sorrel said nothing.

“You mean that I have to depend on Ardhi’s goodwill?”

“Yes. And also on Lowmeer having a cordial relationship with Chenderawasi. Which might be advisable anyway, considering they have incredible power which we witnessed in one of their ports. They sank one of Uthen Kesleer’s newest ships and slaughtered every single member of their crew, all because they killed a bird to obtain its plumes.”

Mention of Chenderawasi plumes brought a cautious look to Mathilda’s face.

Yes, you remember their power, don’t you?

“If it eases your mind, the other hemisphere is not Va-forsaken. Ask the Pontifect. Another point: at the moment, Ardrone has excellent relationships with Chenderawasi, while Lowmeer is anathema to them, thanks to men like Captain Lustgrader. I would suggest that you try to mend that relationship as soon as possible.”

“How can I do that? Merchants hold power in Lowmeer. If they blame me for trade disasters, the Vollendorn line ends!”

“There will be disasters if you don’t ask for, and follow, Ardhi’s advice. Your ships will be sunk in the Summer Seas and Ardronese privateers will regard them as a legitimate target. King Ryce has already agreed to measures that will aid their relationship with Chenderawasi, the sole source of nutmeg. They are making a commitment to trade only through Kotabanta, or other agreed ports.”

Mathilda stopped her drumming fingers and slumped back in her chair. Just when her long silence was beginning to be worrisome, she said quietly, “If Uthen Kesleer’s ships were the guilty parties, as you say, then Lowmeer has already proven our good intentions. Kesleer is dead, executed for treason against his liege lord, Regal Vilmar, over
the plumes. His trading company and his ships are now managed by a consortium in which the Basalt Throne has the largest share.”

“Excellent. Then you personally have some say in how Lowmian merchants deal with the islands of the Summer Seas. As Regent for your son, the major shareholder, I imagine you can appoint board members for the trading company. You should suggest that my husband be one of them. I assure you, he has no interest in personal gain, but will strive for a fair and successful commerce in spices. His knowledge and his connections would be invaluable.”

Sorrel went to her basket, saying, “I have here something that Prime Saker and King Ryce drew up.” She produced several parchment sheets. “It’s a code of conduct for all Ardronese ships, their captains and crews, when dealing with those lands.”

“And you expect Lowmeer to follow a code drawn up by our arch rivals? Va above, Lowmeer and Ardrone have competed on the high seas from the day men learned to paddle a coracle! I can’t order my merchants to act like saintly nuns, while my brother laughs at us behind our backs.”

Sorrel shrugged her shoulders. “Of course, it is your choice. I suspect that without Ardhi’s advice you will have more sunk ships, less spices available to you, and at a higher price – and no help if Prince-regal Karel in a fit of pique one day removes his circlet.”

They stared at each other and neither would drop their gaze.

“You know I killed my husband,” Sorrel said, “so you may threaten me with justice back in Ardrone, if you like, Your Grace. But remember, I know who fathered the twins.”

“You are
threatening
me? How
dare
you!”

“There’s too much at stake to do otherwise.”

“What if people look at Piper and think she looks like Karel?”

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem. They don’t even look to be the same age.”

“Even if I wanted you all… underfoot, just how do you propose that I explain your presence at court?”

“You’ve already begun. I left court because I was unjustly accused of stealing the Regal’s feathers. With the execution of Uthen Kesleer, everyone knows he gifted sorcerous plumes to the Regal, so I am sure you can make him the villain of the piece. So, that’s a start. You
can do whatever you like to explain my husband – it might help to say that he is a member of the Chenderawasi nobility who became a hero during the Ard River battle against the last of the Foxes. There are many who would vouch for that, including Sir Herelt Deremer.”

“Even so—”

“We have a daughter, let’s say nine months younger than your son, and you want the prince-regal to have a playmate of a similar age. The fact that Piper’s father is foreign royalty will offer sufficient status to us all.” She shrugged. “Whenever did you have a problem with manipulating the truth to suit your aims?”

There was a long silence. Then, “A pox on you, Sorrel Redwing! Sometimes I don’t know whether to imprison you, or thank you. I don’t know whether to bless the day I met you, or send you back to Melforn to be hanged as a murderess.”

It was a capitulation of sorts, and an acknowledgement that she would do her no harm.

Sorrel smiled, suddenly happy. “We’ve both come a long way since that day. Look at it this way, Your Grace. Who would ever have thought you would sit on the Basalt Throne? The kind of power you once dreamed of is now yours…”

“I’m never going to be rid of you, am I?” Mathilda asked with a sigh. “You are going to be a stone around my neck until one of us dies of old age.” She shook her head, a rueful half-smile twitching her lips. “Maybe I should be grateful. You are the one person who knows everything, so I don’t have to hide a thing when I talk to you.”

“Please don’t tell me any more secrets. I don’t want to know them.”

“We have something more than secrets in common,” Mathilda said, reaching out to hold her hand. For the first time Sorrel saw genuine terror in her eyes. “We both have, and love, a child who may turn on us one day. Each time we meet, we will look at each other and wonder if we will one day regret our love.”

“There’ll be no regret.” Sorrel raised her chin. “Not ever.”

“Not even if you look into those eyes of an innocent child, and you see
who
looks back at you?” She wasn’t talking about herself, Sorrel knew. Mathilda was coming as close as she ever would to acknowledging who had fathered the twins.

“Not even then,” she said gently. “We will raise these children with
love and kindness, and
that
will make the difference. They are
your
children too. Don’t forget that, Your Grace. The Royal House of Betany runs in their veins.”

“I have only one child,” she said, straightening her back and releasing Sorrel’s hand. “Never say otherwise, Sorrel. Not ever.”

When Sorrel rejoined Ardhi half an hour later, she waited until they were in the open outside the main entrance of the keep before she spoke.

“We have what we wanted,” she said, clutching Piper’s hand tightly as they crossed the grassed area of the inner bailey. “Mathilda has agreed to everything. We’ll have a house in the city, overlooking the water, and we will bring Piper to the castle twice a sennight to play with the prince-regal. Mathilda still doesn’t want to have anything whatsoever to do with Piper personally, though.”

He halted in the middle of the bailey and glanced around to make sure there was no one to overhear. “Tell me everything.”

“In the city, as foreign nobility and an expert on foreign trade, you will be granted a position of power in the Lowmian Spicerie Trading Company. You will also be numbered among Karel’s tutors, in order to give you access to him.”

“Nobility? Even though I am a disgraced member of my own family, cast out of my own land?”

“I didn’t actually mention that.”

He chuckled. “From a mere company language tutor to company director, that’s quite a promotion! And what is the Regala Mathilda offering you?”

“Lady-in-waiting, by virtue of my marriage to said foreign noble.”

He chuckled. “As if you needed marriage to be important!”

“Don’t laugh. She insists that you obtain a suitable surname. Foreign or not, you have to abide by Lowmian conventions.”

“You can help me make up one.” He chuckled. “We’ll think of something suitably pretentious! But you – a lady-in-waiting? Won’t that be tedious?”

“Oh, yes, if I actually had to act as one and live at court. But it’s just a title enabling me to come and go. I will find ways to amuse myself, never fear. At the moment, raising Piper will suffice!”

“She will be fine,” he said, suddenly serious. “Sri Kris has never moved in her presence.”

Not yet
, she thought.
Maybe never.

Only time would tell.

“And using the feather piece on the prince-regal?” he asked.

She snorted. “Her Grace has offered the small shrine at her summer palace as a sacrifice because the shrine keeper adores Karel, and not too many people would notice if it suddenly vanished.”

“You don’t like her much, do you?”

“Not much. I don’t think she’ll ever change. But then, what kind of a life did others ever extend to her? She was only ever to be a token offered to a monarch on a royal plate.” Glancing down at Piper, she added, “At least her daughter will have more choices and a better life, and I think her son has every chance to be cleansed of his father’s sorcery.”

“A happy ending?”

“Who would have thought?” She smiled and held out her hand to him. Piper grabbed it before Ardhi could, and then the child reached for his hand too.

Together they swung Piper between them, laughing, as they walked away from the keep towards the archway to the outer bailey.

Above, from one of the windows in the Regal’s solar, the prince-regal watched, his nose and hands pressed to the glass.

“Who’s that, Mama?” he asked, his gaze fixed on Piper.

Mathilda turned to peer out of the window, and frowned when she saw who had caught his attention. “Oh, them,” she said dismissively. “No one that matters, darling. Come, sit on my lap and I’ll tell you a story about a brave little prince and the treacherous snake who came to a bad end…”

The first glimmer of this story was born more than twenty years ago in Malaysian kitchens, gardens and forests, while I was delving into activities as diverse as cooking with South-east Asian spices, working in the conservation of tropical birds and exploring remote rainforests and islands.

I began writing the first book of this trilogy at the beginning of 2011, and the last touches were added to this, book three, at the end of 2015. It has therefore consumed five years of my life – at a time when we were also moving house (and continents!) from Asia to Australia.

There have been many people along the way who have helped, in one way or another, too many to thank here, but I do need to mention my long-suffering husband, and my beta readers for this volume: Alena Sanusi, Karen Miller, Tehani Wessely, Donna Maree Hanson and Jo Wake. Then there’s Jenni Hill, my wonderful editor at Orbit, and Joanna Kramer and all the rest of the Orbit team who had a hand in producing the three books with their magnificent covers. The maps – which I love – were done by Australian artist, Perdita Phillips.

Most importantly, though, I need to thank you, the reader.

You make it all worthwhile. Every time you buy a book, every time you rate a novel, or write a review, or mention what you are reading to someone else, you make the effort that goes into the creation of stories worth the labour. This year it was you who voted for book one,
The Lascar’s Dagger
, to win two speculative fiction awards, the Tin Duck for the Best WA Professional Long Written Work, and the Australian Ditmar Award for Best Novel (which I’m honoured to say I shared with another Orbit author, Trudi Canavan!).

So thank you, dear reader.