ANNORA

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A porcelain vase, probably worth a small kingdom, exploded against the wall near where she dressed. Annora tried to pay it no mind and continued changing. The dress she had grabbed was the least gaudy that could be quickly found, and yet the green bodice was sewn with gold thread and covered in gems, the skirts plumed out in a ridiculous manner, and the lacings were a series of short individual ties, impossible for her to do up on her own. Another crash came from just outside her closet followed by the holler of a man gone mad.

“Warin, you incompetent blackguard! I will have you dragged behind the Maiden’s Thief!” That Cassen had somehow lost his feminine inflection was frightening enough, but the man had become incensed after finding blood at the entrance of these royal chambers that were otherwise empty. He paced back and forth, alone in the room of purple and red—made redder still by his anger—destroying everything with the capacity to shatter while cursing Warin’s name.

These were not the first threats of murder she’d recently heard. Annora could not recall with exactness what had occurred in the throne room—just that the blinding pain in her chest had lessened, the guards released her, and Stephon had begun promising death to Cassen with high-pitched shrieks. Then she was led up countless stairs by a man with an iron grip, more relieved that her chest no longer felt like burning death than she was to be alive.

It was Cassen who had led her up those many steps, and it must have been he who’d saved her as well. Knowing that, she chanced speaking with the belief that he had no intention of harming her. Not tonight, at least.

“We should go.” She made her plea while still within her closet.

She heard another object smash into a wall and braved an exit.

“Please, they will be looking for us both, and we will be imprisoned or worse.”

Annora was growing tired of having to convince Adeltian nobility to flee their own kingdom. It was only then that she realized Ethel and Eaira were in equally grave danger.

“Where are Ethel and Eaira? We must not leave without them.”

“Oh, must we not?” Cassen laughed like a madman. His new voice did not match his feminine appearance. Though she always thought him to be hiding something, she had grown accustomed to him being the way that he was. “You would throw your life away for some highborn brats? Girls you just met a few weeks ago?”

She ignored his boorish questions. “Was it you who yelled and saved me?” She wanted to be sure.

Cassen merely shook his head as if it pained him to recall the event.

Why did you do it? Annora feared the answer to that question. Cassen now a man, eunuch or not, allowed for explanations better left unsought.

She began to remember more clearly what had happened in the throne room. Stephon had struggled to free his hand while shouting orders for the guards to seize Cassen where he stood, but the guards refused to obey. “Why did you not just kill him?”

“We have wasted enough time here,” he said dismissively. “Come.”

Her chest still sent pangs of agony through her body with every motion, but it did not bleed. The crumpled servant’s cloth that lay on the floor in the closet caught her eye, parts scorched through, and her desire for protection overruled her reservations about Cassen’s motives.

“Help me with my lacings, and I will not slow you further.”

Cassen had found some stately men’s garb in a separate closet of the room Annora now realized was the queen’s royal chambers, but why he had taken her there remained a mystery. It seemed an unnecessary risk to have climbed to the top of the very castle they needed to escape. But the castle had been strangely empty when they crept out, and now outside its walls, her immediate safety remained her primary concern. Cassen’s plan to take a boat to meet friends of his was better than any she could have concocted should she be left alone.

He looked a different person entirely with his new vestment. It was the typical dress of an Adeltian nobleman, something Cassen would never have been seen in as a duchess. His gaunt face made more sense now that he was stripped of his surplus of silks and showed himself to be built no different to most men. The brown cotton trousers were ill-fitting, but the long woolen coat covered the areas where it was more noticeable.

Finally afforded some time to think, Annora realized that that place at the top of the stairs, that opulent red room of anger and anxiety, was supposed to have been where Ethel’s mother was kept.

Ethel and Eaira.

“Will he kill them?”

Cassen did not look at her as they scurried down the paved road, leading to where, she did not know. “We must hurry,” he said as his pace quickened.

We should go back and get them. The thought was brave and stupid, and Annora could not help but be thankful that the responsibility of that final decision no longer fell on her.

“They need only to survive a few more days—a week at most,” said Cassen.

“How is that?”

Cassen brought them around a bend, the change in direction giving him the apparent justification to ignore yet another of her questions. Cassen the duchess would not have been so rude.

He led her into a building with a dirt floor and the sweet scent of straw mixed with the thick pungency of horse.

“I hope you can ride.”

The idea seemed idiotic. “I have never ridden a horse in my life.”

“Then I hope you can learn quickly.”

They passed by stall after stall, most empty but some with horses inside that Cassen by some means judged as not fitting their needs. They all looked and sounded the same, blowing and snorting, the meaning of which Annora could not interpret.

“Are these even your horses?”

Cassen selected a horse with a dark coat and white stripe on its face and busied himself fumbling with the clasps of the saddle. The animal was thinner than the ones that pulled their carriages and looked to have a knack for speed that frightened Annora.

“Why of course. And I would expect you recognize your own palfrey as well, my dear daughter. Or we may need to see you to a mender and cancel our early morning sail. Now grab some straw and make yourself known.”

Annora attempted to feed Cassen’s horse and the one near it that he had indicated would be her own. His horse was eager to take the hay from her hands, but the other was agitated and would not eat.

“I do not see myself learning to ride anytime before the guards are upon us.” Especially in the dark. It had already been an hour or more since the throne room, and the Dawnstar had retired. Annora was thankful and a bit surprised that none of the people they had seen roaming were armored. She would have expected Stephon to have put every man at his disposal to work searching for them.

“No, you may be correct. You will ride with me.”

It was not long before they made their way out of the Adeltian Throne, though not as she had pictured, and making far more noise than was comfortable. The clatter of the horses’ feet on the pavers was louder than she recalled from her carriage rides.

“Someone will hear us,” she worried aloud.

“I hope they do. A pair of horses that make no sound would be sure to draw attention.”

Frowning at Cassen’s back did little good, but she did it just the same. They must have made quite a sight in addition to their racket. She was seated behind him, forced to clasp her arms around his waist to avoid tumbling off the beast’s rump. The skirts of her ridiculous dress hung to either side as they moved at what felt like a dangerous gait, though the bored expression of the horse that tailed them, reins tied to their saddle, led her to admit it may just be an issue of perception.

“Isn’t this the way to Eastport?”

“It is.” He answered as if her question required no further explanation.

“Are you not concerned that you will be recognized?”

“Would you rec—well I suppose you might. But the men of the docks are not my lady daughters, and none have seen me in men’s dress save when I go there in disguise. Any that know me well enough to recognize me will also know to fear me.”

“I still think Westport would be the safer option.”

Cassen snorted. “I do not think you have spent enough time in Westport to make such an appraisal. The city has lacked proper management since—”

He quieted with a quickness that was worrying. Cassen was always eager to belittle his rival city. He must have heard something.

“Are we in danger?” she whispered after waiting in silence as long as she could bear.

“No. No more than we have ever been.” He sounded reticent. It must have to do with having to leave his great city behind. It made her wonder what land they would even sail to from Eastport. She certainly had no wish to return to the Spicelands and hoped instead Cassen intended to sail up the eastern shore to Midport or Strahl.

In spite of Cassen’s half-hearted assurance, Annora scanned for possible threats—roadblocks or places for guards to lay ambush—but there was little to see. “Where are all the guards? And the people?”

They had only passed a handful of people on the road, empty carriages for the most part, and not a single patrolling guard.

“You might find people are reluctant to leave their homes when a king declares murder to be legal.” It was a fair point, but only answered half the question.

“And the guards?”

Cassen grunted in disgust. “It would seem our good friend Master Warin has seen fit to take his prestigious Protectors north with the armies—ahead of schedule.”

When in the queen’s chambers, Cassen had cursed the man as if Warin had betrayed him, but it seemed an odd place to discover such a thing. There is more to this story than you are revealing, she thought. Had you even any intention of preventing Warin from raping Ryiah, or did you merely use it to leverage the man?

She chanced pressing him further. “What business does The Guard have in the North?”

“The realm is vast and filled with humanity, all of whom require protection.” He made no effort to sound sincere.

“What was your part in it?”

Cassen turned momentarily to give her a sidelong glance. The furrow in his brow was clear to see. “I do not claim to be a better man than Warin. I am merely better at hiding my malevolence.”

Annora pondered the accuracy of his statement. How many people truly believed Cassen to be a better man than Warin? And just how heinous was Cassen if he thought himself good at masking it?

Their journey continued in silence for what felt like hours, interrupted only once to switch horses. The feisty palfrey had calmed, though, and seemed happy enough to bear their weight.

“Remember,” said Cassen, “when we get to the docks, you are my daughter. That should not be too difficult a task, considering. Just follow my lead. We will secure our own small boat with sail.”

“And who will pilot this boat? One does not simply ride a sea vessel.” All children played in small boats in the Spicelands, and Annora was no exception. None of her boats had been with sail, but she had seen enough to know sailing was no easy endeavor.

“I have some experience with rigging, but I will require your assistance.”

Had someone told her that she and Cassen would be sailing…and that he would be manning the boat… It was too absurd a notion to even humor. But he was not the duchess anymore, and she was not a lady servant. He was an Adeltian noble and she his highborn child. She just hoped the darkness would be enough to hide the improbable nature of that claim given their difference in appearance.

The second half of the trip was quiet but went by faster than the first. Annora found herself looking forward to spending some time on the water, if only to be away from this kingdom.

The smell of wet wood and salty tang of ocean snuck up on her, and the time for riding was done. Cassen tied off their horses and led her toward the mass of boats rocking gently in the water.

“Remember, you are my highborn daughter.”

Annora nodded. I would be better served reminding myself that I am under the care of a man that cannot be trusted.

Annora felt the uneven planks of the docks through the soles of her soft shoes. Memories of having first set foot on docks such as these came to her, and they were not pleasant. After enduring a lengthy voyage in the company of the most sordid men she had ever encountered, under constant threat of debasement, there was little relief to be had landing in Adeltia, not knowing if worse was yet to come.

“Probably shouldn’t be sneaking up on people such as me under the cover of night.”

A man with thick hair covering his arms barred their path. In one hand he had a long slender blade, already stained with blood.

“We do not wish for trouble. My daughter and I require a boat for the day.”

“Heh, you don’t want any trouble, you just want a boat? Clearly you don’t have much experience with the damn things then.” The man stuck his knife through the eye of a large fish, gutted and stripped of meat on one side. “And perhaps you haven’t noticed, the day’s over.”

“So it is, however, I will gladly pay for both today and tomorrow should I find a suitable vessel. Do you know of anyone willing to hire out a boat? One with a sail?”

“Aye, I know plenty, just none that do business at night.” The scrutinizing look this man gave them made Annora uneasy. “How about you and your daughter here just wait a bit. I’ll fetch a friend of mine who has a nice little sloop.”

“Yes, please do. We will await your return.”

“Father, what is wrong with his boat?” Annora asked before the man had time to leave, her Spiceland accent faint, but present. She walked down the docks a few steps peering at the boat in the darkness.

“Oh no, you wouldn’t like my skiff. There’s no ballast in ’er, and she’s prone to tip. I’m a fisherman, no sailor, and my boat’s much the same. My friend has just what you need. You two just wait a bit, and I’ll be back before you know it.”

Annora found and held eye contact with the fisherman and sauntered to Cassen’s side, wrapping both her arms around one of his. “I have a better idea,” she said, still gazing at the man. “How about my father pays for two nights on your boat, as he’s promised. …The first night is his, and the second night will be yours.” She moved one of her hands along Cassen’s arm to ensure her meaning was understood.

She could feel the man’s filthy eyes accost her from head to toe and back up again. It was all she could do to maintain her composure and not reveal her repulsion.

“I get the first night,” said the fisherman. He did not have to lick his lips; his body spoke the action for him.

“Out of the question.” Cassen sounded as adamant as he had in the throne room.

“All right, all right. The second. Just be careful with the damn boat. Do you even know how to sail?” In spite of speaking to Cassen, the man’s eyes were still on Annora.

Cassen merely grunted with discontent at the man. “What provisions are on board? Is there any wine?”

“It’s a fishing vessel not an inn. There’s some rum and water in the bow storage, but that’s all I’ve got. And don’t drink it all either.”

Annora remained at Cassen’s arm as he stepped forward and pressed a large silver coin onto the cutting board next to the fish. “You’ll get the other upon our return.”

Cassen had been scowling since they set off from the docks by oar, and his disposition had not changed in spite of the good distance now between them and the docks.

“That was a foolish and unnecessary thing you did.” He finally broke the silence with words no different from his look.

Annora, already angry, just ignored him. The fool does not even know how his own city works.

“You were to be my daughter—no more.”

“I was not aware I was acting anything more. I thought I played the part rather well, considering the father.”

“Are you not aware that whoring outside of an authorized brothel is not permitted? That there is a reward for reporting those who do so to avoid the taxes? Where do you think that man would have gone had your little ploy failed?” Cassen had stopped rowing. He apparently needed all his strength to chastise her.

“To the same place he was already headed. And certainly not to report us to some authority for a pittance of a reward.”

“Is that right?”

“Yes, it is right.” Her accent flared, but she was too heated to care. “He’d go to a brothel owner who would have exacted a more severe penalty upon us both and paid him a fraction of the contents of your purse instead.”

Cassen let loose a round of insolent laughter clearly intended to belittle her. “And how did you come to that conclusion?”

The laundry was the best place for talk and gossip, and none of the women with choice stories had been born as washwomen. Anna, Shellie, and Jeanne, aside from being the more interesting of the women, all admitted—rather proudly—to working in brothels when they were younger. Most of their tales were a bit tall, but oftentimes pieces of their differing lies overlapped where there was truth, lending itself to believability. Annora knew exactly how the brothels operated, and how they differed between Eastport and Westport. It was a common topic, as many of the prettier servant girls contemplated running off with the idea of building enough coin with a quick bit of degradation to afford a true escape from servitude. The older women were quick to encourage the idea—to those they disliked. To the others, they warned of the true dangers involved and the certainty of never escaping until both your value and coin were gone.

“The man was lying.” It was as definite a fact as any she had ever known, and she had no desire to explain her reasoning in further detail.

Cassen just chuckled to himself.

Annora turned her back to him, but there was no way to be rid of him on so small a craft. It was about three men in length—three very short men. There was no cabin, and Cassen was nearer the bow of the boat, looking rearward as he rowed. He is probably too afraid to raise sail and was lying about having any experience.

A brutal wave struck her, not of water but of hunger. It must have been over half a day since she’d eaten, and her desperation spurred her to action. Leaving her seat at the stern she passed Cassen, handing him the two lines that controlled the rudder.

“Steering too much responsibility for my lady daughter?”

“You can do nothing as well as I. Where are these friends of yours if they even exist? We have been headed straight south if I am not mistaken. You may wish to correct our course when we raise sail, captain.”

Annora had every hatch in the front of the boat open and was rummaging through with anger, throwing old rope, broken chunks of punky wood, and heavy pieces of anchors on to the deck behind her. “Nothing but flotsam in this damn boat!”

“Let me know if you find anything to eat. I have a king’s hunger.”

Cassen was the only one amused by his quip as Annora had had quite enough mention of kings for one lifetime. “We will be lucky enough to find fresh water.”

Annora brought a glass jug sealed with a rotten cork back where Cassen could see and shook its contents in front of him. “This is the rum I believe we are commanded not to finish.” Probably more spit than rum.

“I will have that man flayed for insolence upon our return.”

Yes, insolence…because lying would be too serious a charge. “Upon our return?” He might be returning one day, but Annora had no plans to.

“Just keep looking, dammit. Food would be nice, but we need water.”

“I have looked. There is no food or water.” She knew she could not blame Cassen for this particular problem as it was her idea to take this man’s boat, but there was no reason for their continued slow travel. “Perhaps if you raised sail we could meet up with your friends before we die of thirst?”

Cassen let his oars hang over the water and the boat continued to drift forward. She could not help but notice his arms were somewhat muscled and lean. He did not have the brawny frame of a blacksmith or swordsman, but neither was he the maidenly eunuch that all had known him to be. It only served to bring a scowl to her face as Annora thought how easy it would have been for him to have rid the kingdom of its budding tyrant when he’d had the chance.

“I will man the rudder,” said Cassen as he moved to free the boom. “You stay at the mast and be ready to raise the main when I tell you. Do you know how to fix a line to a cleat?”

She stared at him with the implication of having been insulted. She would loop the line around with a twist the way she thought she’d seen it done and hope for the best before she allowed him to give her a lesson. His patronizing air had already taken its toll.

Annora took hold of the line to raise the sail and noted the gentle breeze. It was scarcely enough to ruffle her hair, and she wished for stronger wind to move them with speed.

“Raise it full and tie it off,” said Cassen.

The sail went to the top of the mast with little effort and the loops and twists around the cleat seemed to be holding. She knotted the loose end just in case. The wind caught the sail, lifting it along with Annora’s spirits while Cassen adjusted a line attached to the boom.

The vessel continued to pick up speed, but Annora soon heard a sound like rushing water that was somehow distant. When she glanced at Cassen he had the same confused look upon his face that she was feeling.

“Lower the sail,” he commanded.

She made her disappointment known as she moved to undo her knots and loops. If this is some trick to make me look foolish…

“Hurry!” There was panic in his voice, and the sound grew louder. The line went taut on the cleat, making it impossible for her to undo her knot. “Hold on,” he cried and Annora went belly to deck and saw Cassen did the same. A massive gust of wind struck them, and she readied herself for a swim. The realization that it would be impossible for the two of them to right this boat if it toppled gripped her with fear.

The boat began to list. Annora held on to the mast as it tilted more and more. Anything beyond the midpoint between vertical and horizontal would result in capsize given that the vessel was not built for sailing. But the boat continued to lurch to the side, passing the point that she had feared and continuing to tip further still. Cassen’s eyes were wide and frightened—the sea was feared by all men, and he was no exception. This boat may not even float when flipped, which would force them to cling to whatever small pieces of trash they could find, their limbs dangling dangerously into the dark waters for whatever lay below to grab hold of. They leaned so sharply it took all her strength to hold on and keep from falling into the water. She considered letting go on purpose, thinking it might help to right the boat. As she contemplated the effect such a decision would have, the choice was made for her. Rather than capsizing, the boat began to roll back to rightness, and the winds died down.

After a few moments they were at a healthy list and traveling with a good southerly speed. Annora breathed deeply and willed herself to relax. She turned her attention to Cassen whose white face began to flood pink with embarrassment. The brush with death had stripped her of her acrimony, and she decided not to taunt him, though it was well within her right.

“It looks like the rum and water were not the only things our fisherman friend lied about,” he said.

It was as good a concession as she could have hoped to get from him. This boat had a fine ballast after all, and as they continued due south—to where, she still could not guess—she believed they would have more need of it.