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à reskynna were tall with sandy hair and an aquamarine gaze. Their irises
shone like a disturbingly still sea under a clear sky.
The duchess initially struck Rodian as a shattered woman. Only later did he
come to know her as strong-willed, private, and protective of her new family.
All she told him of the night⬠"!s boat ride was that she⬠"!d turned to peer
through the dark toward the distant docks. Being a Faunier and an inlander,
she was accustomed to wide-open plains and lush woods, and had never learned
to swim. Nor did she know anything of sailing. Getting so far from shore made
her nervous.
When she turned back, Prince Freädherich, third in line to the throne, was
gone. She hadn⬠"!t even heard a splash.
Duchess Reine passed that night in panic and anguish over her vanished husband
as she drifted alone until dawn in Beranlômr Bay. A spotty tale at
best⬠ perhaps too much so to be a lie⬠ and more than this had left Rodian
puzzled.
The royal family⬠"!s belief that the duchess had no part in the prince⬠"!s
disappearance remained absolute. Later he began to share that belief, though
he never came to fully understand why. It took time to uncover the few pieces
he learned of Prince Freädherich and the à reskynna as a whole.
From questioning dockhands, and any crew and ship out and about at the time,
to finding those who knew scant bits of the prince⬠"!s past, Rodian assembled
pieces that didn⬠"!t make sense. This wasn⬠"!t the first time Prince
Freädherich had sneaked off and run afoul at sea. Though it was the first
time someone had been with him.
On two previous occasions he⬠"!d been spotted too late slipping away in a
small boat. The first time, in his youth, he⬠"!d made it to the open sea
before anyone knew and was later caught by panicked Weardas upon a Malourné
naval vessel. Then, a year before he married Reine, he returned alone along
the shore, escorted by a trio of dwarven thänæ. His boat was later found
adrift and undamaged.
And one night Rodian had listened to the sketchy rumors of an elder seafarer.
The old man spent his days selling his services for mending fishing nets. He
said Prince Freädherich wasn⬠"!t the only à reskynna to exhibit such strange
behavior. Others as far back as the king⬠"!s great-grandmother were known for
a silent and unexplained fascination with the sea.
The royals of Malourné were benevolent, and despite Rodian⬠"!s ambition he
took pride in serving them and his people. He⬠"!d heard occasional stories in
taverns and common houses of the cursed monarchs of Malourné, but he gave
them no credence. Folktales abounded in any country, and his faith in the
Blessed Trinity of Sentience taught him better than to believe nonsense that
defied reason. When his inquiries ran dry and nothing more concrete could be
learned, faith was all he had left to lean on.
And he broke the law for the first time.
He should⬠"!ve gone straight to the high advocate, before the court, reported
that his investigation was complete, and testified before the inquest
tribunal. Instead he went to Duchess Reine.
Rodian told her he couldn⬠"!t clear her of suspicion, but that he also
believed she had nothing to do with whatever happened on the boat. Princess
à thelthryth was present, quiet and watchful, but open relief filled her
aquamarine eyes. When he related tales of the à reskynna and the sea, neither
the princess nor the duchess said a word.
At the inquest⬠"!s closing session, before the tribunal and high advocate, he
reported that no evidence of a crime could be found. Not truly a lie, but then
he⬠"!d said nothing about the ⬠S
curse.⬠"
Unsubstantiated or not, withholding this was the second time Rodian broke the
law. And the very act forced him to remember the day of his acceptance into
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the Shyldfälches, as well as his promotion to captain, when he⬠"!d stood
before the high advocate with his sword hand upon an old wooden box.
Within that vessel was the Ã0 a-bêch⬠ Malourné⬠"!s first book of the law.
Over centuries, the rules and regulations of society had grown until they
filled a small library. But the Ã0 a-bêch was still the core of it all. Rodian
swore by it to uphold the law of the people, for the people.
When Rodian left the inquest that final day, his sword hand ached.
Moral reasoning had told him no good could come from repeating rumors at the
inquest. But truth meant everything to him, by both his faith and his duty. He
went to temple that same night and prayed⬠ not for forgiveness of the
omission, but for relief from doubt in his reasoned decision.
Snowbird slowed for a tottering beggar crossing the road, and Rodian started
from remembrance. He found himself in what the locals called the Graylands
Empire.
Dull and worn buildings stretched beyond sight, many with shutters hung at
broken angles. Dogs and unwashed children ran about, and most of the street
lanterns showed decay and rust, their glass either lost or shattered long ago.
Rodian disliked this shabby sector, but duty often called him here. Through
the generosity of à reskynna, civil ministers had set up charities for the
dangerously poor. All cities had their districts of low-end businesses run by
those who hoped to move up in the world. Unfortunately, such were patronized
only by other unfortunates. Many shopkeepers here couldn⬠"!t make enough even
for nails to fix their shutters. Of those who could, some simply didn⬠"!t
bother.
Rodian refused to pity the latter, those who wouldn⬠"!t help themselves.
He glanced at the paper slip to double-check the address. Selwyn Midton⬠"!s
shop⬠ the Plum Parchment⬠ was listed as offering ⬠S
clerical services.⬠" He
turned Snowbird left down a street of decrepit shops and one tavern. He had to
place a hand across his face as the scent of burning meat mixed with the
stench of refuse in a side alley.
Smoke-stained people milled about in the streets as they went their way,
seeking a meager living. Although he passed numerous pony- and hand-drawn
carts, he was the only one on horseback.
Rather than a swinging sign, The Plum Parchment was painted across a faded
door. Rodian pulled Snowbird to a stop, and as he slipped from her saddle he
patted her gently on the neck.
Perhaps there was a third time he⬠"!d broken the law.
On an evening less than half a moon after the inquest, a young white horse had
been delivered to the military barracks. She was exquisite, a gift of thanks
from the duchess, but as captain of the city guard Rodian shouldn⬠"!t have
accepted. He kept silent when comrades asked about this high-bred horse he
named Snowbird, but likely all knew where she⬠"!d come from.
The Plum Parchment⬠"!s shutters were intact but tightly closed. Rodian tried
the front door⬠"!s latch and found it locked. When he thought of Wynn⬠"!s
story of Jeremy, he couldn⬠"!t picture a young sage coming anywhere near this
place.
⬠S
Been gone for two days,⬠" someone croaked.
An old woman with no teeth shuffled up from the dirty street. Her thinned hair
stuck out from beneath an age-yellowed muslin scarf.
⬠S
You are certain?⬠" he asked.
She nodded, her loose-skinned jowls jiggling. ⬠S
We heard he was called to the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]