The Go-Between (The Nilaruna Cycles Book 1) (7 page)

“I’m not going to die!” I bellow. “I’ve closed the ports!”

“Shiva says that they will find a
way to get to you, no matter what you do. I’m sorry, Father.”

I sit on the edge of my bed and
clench my fists. I’ve always prided myself on my dignity, and I won’t lose
control now.

Kai sits beside me and throws his
arms around me. We hold tight.

“So.” I pull away and school my
face. “Did Shiva say when?”

“Before this cycle ends.”

“Did he say who is plotting
against us?”

“No.”

“Then what the hell did he say?”

“That the assassins will kill me,
too, unless I’m married. Apparently, my bride will die instead of me.”

“And I’ve closed the ports…oh,
Kai. You must get to those barracks and choose a bride immediately.”

Kai nods. “I have a bride in
mind, one who will align herself with the crown. My bags are packed. Actually,
they were packed yesterday, but I haven’t been able to get you alone. And I
wanted to say goodbye to Mother.”

I squeeze my eyes shut tight. He
wants to see his mother.

“Go find your bride, and I’ll
start planning the wedding. You can see your mother when you return.”

“I may not return,” Kai says, and
my pulse jumps. “I hope to, I plan to, but what if the assassin catches me on
the trail? This might be my last chance. Please.”

I sigh.

Kai’s right. This may be his only
chance, and I’m only King. I am not one of the gods, dictating the lives of
royalty. I am Father, but would Kai hate me if I refused his request? I might
die while he’s away. I could not bear his hatred in the afterlife.

I stand. “Fine. Follow me.”

***

When
I met Silvia, I was a pompous ass of eighteen cycles.

Marriage and the taking of the
crown didn’t change that.

Becoming a father didn’t change
that.

When I lost Silvia, I was a
pompous ass of thirty-five cycles.

But I evolved.

A person doesn’t know his true
measure, his heart, his mettle, his self, until he is tested.

My life was one big
“bow-down-to-me” fest until that horrific day.

I had power. And I wielded it. I
tried to be fair, but when you’re sitting on high, your view is different from
that of those below you.

I had power.

Until that day.

Silvia rode her horse through the
woods every morning. She knew her animal, she knew the land. She was more at
home in the saddle than on her throne.

We still don’t know what
happened. She rode ahead of her companions, just out of sight, but she always
liked to give her horse a little head and let him stretch himself. No one
worried. Same thing, each day.

But not that day.

They found her unconscious on the
side of the trail, thrown from her horse, her forehead bloody from where it
connected with a large rock.

She came to later that afternoon,
and I still didn’t get it. It was a little fall, a bump on the head. I had
state business to take care of, a mistress to appease, coffers to fill. My wife
would be fine.

I visited her for the first time
two days after the accident. Our healer tried to prepare me, but I remember
laughing in his face. My wife can’t speak? Ridiculous. She cannot walk? Make
her.

Silvia was sitting up in bed that
morning, a smile across her lips. I remember — I smiled back.

“Dear Silvia, how are you
feeling? Quite a scare you gave us.”

She didn’t move. The smile was
frozen on her face. I remember a chill creeping ever so slowly down my spine.

“Silvia? I said, how are you
feeling?”

A thin line of drool oozed from
the left side of her mouth.

I gagged, and I turned and walked
out of the room.

I didn’t return for twenty-seven
days.

Kai was never allowed into that
room. For him, his mother was dead.

***

I didn’t need to explain any of this to my son. We’d had numerous
talks about it as he’d grown older, and he’d never pushed the subject of seeing
her. I think it was easier, for him, to put her out of his mind.

Or maybe that’s the excuse I tell
myself for making the decisions I’ve made.

I knock lightly on the door and
clear my throat. I lift the latch and will myself to not shed a tear.

“Wait,” Kai says. “Father.”

I turn to him.

“I’d like to do this alone, if
that’s alright with you.”

I feel a relief so huge that I
almost forget about my imminent death. Even though I spend two hours a day with
Silvia, seeing her with Kai is an entirely different proposition.

“Whatever you need, Son,” I say.
I step back and let him move to the door.

“Father?”

“Yes?”

“I’ve always hated you for
keeping her from me. And I’ve always loved you for it.”

Damn it all, that does it. That gets
the tears flowing. I nod once and hurry back to my chambers so that Kai doesn’t
see me cry.

That wouldn’t do.

That wouldn’t do at all.

I admit, I had a tearful reunion with my mother. But the heat of my
anger at the gods quickly evaporated my tears.

Why do these things happen? Why
would my mother be kept alive, a human shell full of nothingness? It’s a brand
of cruelty unique to the gods. Human beings couldn’t dream up such senseless
torture.

Shiva has much to answer for. He
destroyed, but he did not remake. And that is not his style, so maybe Shiva
isn’t the one I need to focus my anger on.

I grab my pack and call for my
companions. Then I head for the stables.

Manoj is already there, counting
oats.

Okay, he’s not actually counting
individual oats, but he might as well be. He has the contents of his bag spread
out on a blanket on the ground, and he’s mentally ticking each item off his
travel list.

He looks up at me, eyes serious.
“I only have enough coin for three weeks of travel. Perhaps your father will
approve two more weeks’ worth. I do not want to be out of coin and sleeping on
pine needles.”

I laugh. “I’m the prince. We
won’t need coin at all. Every innkeeper we meet will fall all over himself to
give us free board.”

“A true prince would not take
advantage of his citizens thusly.”

I sigh. “If we run out of coin, I
will send payment when we return home. What are you so worried about?”

Manoj stands and dusts off the
knees of his trousers. “If you are killed, no innkeeper will be falling all
over himself to shelter me and Faaris. What if it rains?”

I put my hand on my best friend’s
shoulder. “Manoj, we will be gone for less than a week. Three weeks’ provisions
will be more than enough. I think you’re actually worried about me.”

Manoj smiles sadly. “I’m no
warrior, Kai. I can keep track of supplies, and I can scout a trail, but we’re
not hunting boar. You should take another swordsman instead of me. I may be a
liability.”

“You’re just fine with a sword,”
I tell him, “and there’s no one on this earth I trust more than you. I’m
counting on that sharp brain and those keen eyes to keep us all safe. And
Faaris can handle ten men at once. You and I just need to stay out of his way.”

Faaris takes that moment to enter
the stables, two swords strapped crisscross across his back.

“Ready to find this girl and save
the kingdom?” he says with a grin.

I roll my eyes. “This is just
another adventure for you, isn’t it?”

“It has the makings of one,” he
says. “Assassins lurking. Two-day ride to a remote village, then another day’s
hike into the Protector’s territory, where we might be smited down at any
moment. A damsel in distress—”

“Smited down?” Manoj says.

“Or smoted. He could probably
smote us. Or is it smoot us?”

Manoj snorts. “Smoot? Holy heavens,
man, where did you learn to speak?”

Faaris ignores him. “As I was
saying, a damsel in distress—”

“She’s not in distress,” I say.
“She’s planning to be married. I’m the one in distress who has to convince her
to give up her life and fall in love with me.”

Faaris laughs. “Then we’ll be
smooted for certain.”

“Faaris, where is your pack?”
Manoj asks.

“Right there,” he says, pointing
at the pack in Manoj’s hand. “You probably packed for twelve. All I need are my
swords.”

Manoj frowns. “You didn’t bring any
undergarments?”

***

We finally get on the trail. While Manoj and Faaris banter back and
forth, I go over the tasks before me:

1. Find a way to get Maja the
Protector to allow us on his land.

2. Find Nilaruna and convince her
to help me.

3. Watch out for assassination
attempts.

4. Make Nilaruna fall in love
with me.

5. Get married.

6. Get through my father’s
funeral.

7. Watch the woman I marry die so
that I may gain the throne and maintain stability in our kingdom.

8. Smoot Shiva for his role in
this tragedy.

That’s the plan, the plan (minus
#8) according to one of the most manipulative gods in our pantheon.

This is not the life I had
planned for myself, and it is not the one I will live. Even if I die trying.

Letting a woman die for me,
willingly or not, goes against every instinct in my body.

Shiva wants me to find Nilaruna,
and he wants me to marry her, so I’m obligated to see how this plays out. This
whole thing stinks of a setup, but I haven’t yet figured out the end game. Will
Nilaruna be my salvation or destruction? I have no way of knowing.

I sent my father to the maiden
barracks on the pretext of checking out the available girls. He’s accompanied
by fifty swordsmen, the best in the land. An assassin arriving by boat will
have to travel quite far and conspicuously to get to him.

I will eliminate #6.

So that leaves #7. Death by
poison is one of the easier assassination methods to thwart. We simply prepare
our own food, employ tasters, ban outsiders into the castle. I’m confident I
can keep my bride safe, if she follows my instructions.

Is that who Nilaruna is? She’s a
rural girl, most likely raised in the traditional manner. Her fiancé is
probably the only man outside her family she’s ever spoken to. She’s probably obedient,
deferential, used to taking orders. All of which will help me keep her alive.

But the will of the gods is not
easily overcome.

I must change something else in
this sequence of events to hope to change the outcome.

Shiva suggested I marry a girl so
evil she deserved to die. That would presuppose that I do not love my bride,
that I need not love her. That maybe
not
loving her is essential to Shiva’s outcome.

So what if I did love her?

I’ve always known I’d be marrying
for duty. Our kingdom is more progressive than most, in that I am allowed to
choose my own bride, rather than my father choosing for me. I never took this
for granted. I planned to choose a woman who fit by my side, supported my
decisions, and could be loved by the people of Jatani.

I also hoped for some kind of
spark between us, because I vowed to never be like my father — in bed
with my mistress while my wife drools in the next chamber. My bride deserves
more respect than that.

I spend the next few hours
dreaming of Nilaruna.

She’s fair-skinned, dark-haired,
a brown-eyed beauty. She has a gentle spirit, a soft touch, a comforting gaze.
I can whisper my thoughts to her, and she will echo them back to me, perfectly
in tune. She can sing like a nightingale, play the harp like an angel, dance
like the wind through the trees.

We fit.

I’ve never been in love before,
but a woman like this…yes. She will be perfect. As Shiva said, she will be my
salvation. And I will be hers. I will certainly fall in love with her.

I hesitate on the banks of the Swifty.

I’m going now
, I think to Maja.
Wish me luck
.

Now remember, do not go hand-over-hand with the rope. Never let go,
not even for a moment. Slide your hands along the rope as you go. And don’t
look down. All the girls experienced vertigo if they looked at their feet. Keep
your eyes forward, grip with your toes—

Maja, I’ll be fine
, I think.
I’ve
already done this without any assistance from you. Stop worrying.

Never,
he whispers in my mind.

I love you and will return,
I whisper back.
Have
faith. I will return.

I love you, too.

I grip the slippery wet upper
rope in both hands and carefully step on the lower one. I slide my way along,
the spray from the rapids soaking my trousers. When I reach the end, I pause.

I’ve made it. I’m at the end. Take care, Maja. Truly.

Truly
,
he whispers back.

***

I eye the spot I need to jump to. It’s five paces further to my right
than the trailhead directly in front of me, and it’s covered in pine needles
rather than dirt. I figure it will be easier to hide my presence if I drip
water all over the needles rather than the dirt. Yes, it’s dark, but a mud
puddle would clearly signal that someone has crossed the Swifty.

I don’t know if anyone is out here
looking, but I have the advantage of surprise, and I don’t want to give it up
easily.

I squeeze the rope one last time
and fling myself into space. I actually land two paces further than I’d aimed
for, my heel slips in something that smells suspiciously like animal excrement,
and I land on my butt.

My parents own plenty of farm
animals. I’m no stranger to their droppings. But I still crawl forward,
dragging my heel behind me to try to rid myself of the foul stuff.

I finally hunch down behind a
bush off to the side of the trail and listen.

Crickets. A slight breeze
rustling the leaves in the trees. A small animal scuffling in the brush.

I settle back on my heels and
wait. Maja and I agreed I should listen for ten minutes.

At minute six, my right leg begins
to tingle.

At minute seven, I almost rise
and continue, but then I hear footsteps. Measured footsteps, padding on the
soft dirt of the trail. Maybe two hundred paces away.

I close my eyes and listen hard.

No heavy breathing, no whispered
expletives. This person is at home in the woods and in good shape. Or maybe
they live nearby, in a remote cabin or hut. Hermits, especially religious ones,
are not unknown in these parts.

I continue to hear only the
footsteps, an unbreaking stride, a natural gait. This person is familiar with
the trail.

When he is about a hundred paces
away, I shift only my head until I find the perfect vantage point from my
hiding place. I want to see who it is.

He comes closer. Closer still. My
heart pounds in my breast, and I pray he cannot hear it.

A man rounds the bend in the
trail and his legs come into view.

Familiar legs, since I’ve spent
much time looking at them instead of in their owner’s eye. I am such a pariah
that I am not allowed to lift my head in the high priest’s presence, but in
this case, I’m grateful for the custom.

How else would I be able to
identify these hairy legs?

And what is the high priest doing
here in the middle of the night?

He stops ten paces away from me,
and I freeze.

Then clothing rustles, and
another pair of legs, small and dirty, slide into view, and their feet hit the
dusty path.

Larraj.

“Go, boy. We don’t have all
night,” High Priest Sanji says.

Larraj takes a few tentative
steps forward. “Can you come with me? It’s dark, and it smells bad.”

“I should have sent you to
apprentice on a farm last summer. The you’d know how bad a smell can be. It’s
nature, Larraj. Ignore it.”

“Thank Shiva I live in the
temple,” Larraj says. “Can’t you come with me, just a little bit farther?”

“My eyes are useless past this
point, you know that,” Sanji snaps. “Go now. We must make sure your future
bride is safe.”

“I don’t wanna bride,” Larraj
mumbles. “I mean, I like Nili, though, so I want her to be safe.”

“Don’t think about it now. Just
check the Swifty and we’ll be off. Think of your nice warm bed.”

Larraj takes a deep breath.
“Okay.” And he stomps forward.

“Dear gods, Larraj, quiet!
There’s no need to go tramping around like an elephant!”

“What does it matter?” he asks.
“No one’s here anyway.”

“You don’t know that!” Sanji
snaps. “Now go quietly and hurry back.”

Larraj moves on, and I watch
Sanji’s hairy legs. They don’t move a muscle.

“She’s not here,” Larraj yells,
presumably from the banks of the river. Sanji sighs audibly.

Larraj quickly runs back. “She’s
not here,” he repeats.

“Has anyone crossed the Swifty?”
Sanji asks. “Was the bank wet?”

“No,” he says. “The trail’s dry.”

“Hop back up, then. Quickly.
We’ll get you to bed, and we’ll visit the Nandals tomorrow afternoon.”

Larraj climbs on Sanji’s back,
and they head down the trail.

“Will Shrimati Nandal give me
sweets? She always gives me sweets.”

“If you’re a good boy, Larraj,
most likely you will get a sweet.”

“May I light the fire when we
return to the temple?”

“I’m sure it’s already lit.”

“Should I be quiet now?”

“Yes, you should always be quiet,
Larraj.”

As if.

I wait, still frozen in place,
until my heartbeat calms and I can take a deep silent breath. Only then do I
straighten and stretch my cramped muscles.

I can still hear Sanji’s
footsteps, very faintly. He’s not being as deliberately silent as he was
before. He believes they are alone.

It sounded as though they came to
check on me, in an altruistic sense. They wanted to ensure I wasn’t drowning in
the rapids.

But then why come in the middle
of the night? Knowing the Go-Betweens’ fates, no one in the village would think
it odd if someone looked for me. There’s no need for secrecy.

Unless…

Either the high priest knows
someone is out to get me and does not want to alert that person, or he is out
to get me himself.

But that assumes something
nefarious is going on, which is a fair assumption given the deaths of the
previous Go-Betweens and the spell that was set upon me.

But I’ve also been gone for a
long time. I could have died in Maja’s cave, and no one would be the wiser.
Maybe Sanji is weighing whether or not to send a new Go-Between. Maybe he is
truly worried about me.

Truly?

I have no idea.