The landscape became greener over the next week as we made our way through from the southern edge of Pulnam to the northern tip of Aramor. The desert to the east kept watch on us even as the brown brush and sand that bounded the wide road was gradually replaced by the thick fields of grain and barley that signaled Aramor’s age-old prosperity.
Each morning I awoke unable to move, unable to speak, and unable to see, and each morning I told myself that the time I spent in that condition wasn’t getting any longer, that this was like a fever that would pass on its own some day soon.
For the first few mornings, I imagined that Cantissa was there with me, her hands reaching but never touching the iron screws topped by short wooden handles that were slowly being driven into her skull. Sometimes I imagined her face changing into Aline’s.
There was nothing I could do for my King’s daughter now. I had to hope the Tailor and her Greatcoats were keeping her hidden and safe. My focus had to be on Aramor, and Duke Isault. Only by securing his support could I give Aline the chance she needed to become Queen. The Tailor’s words echoed in my ears: “Aline must be protected so that she can take the throne. Nothing else can stand in the way of that. Nothing will.”
When we finally crossed into the northern edge of the Duchy of Aramor I signaled a halt. “We should let the horses drink,” I said, bringing one leg over the saddle and stepping down to the ground.
“I don’t care what you say, Falcio,” Brasti said, dropping down from his own mount and walking over to join me, “I’m sleeping in an inn tonight. I’ve had enough of the cold desert wind chilling my balls.”
“Your balls could do with chilling,” Dariana said, still on her horse.
Brasti looked up at her with a disgusted expression. “Have no fear, Dari, my dear. You chill my balls plenty as it is.”
His words rang false. Dariana was quite pretty in her way, though I could never quite bring myself to call her attractive—she reminded me a little too much of the Tailor. Brasti, on the other hand, had more—well, cosmopolitan tastes in sexual partners. During our time on the road he’d been making frequent and increasingly elaborate overtures to Dariana, most of which included a recitation of his virtues that, if true, would have stretched the boundaries of natural laws. For her part, she obviously found him repugnant, and she took every opportunity to remind him of that—which, to me at least, was her most endearing quality.
“Someone’s coming,” Brasti said, pointing down the road.
“Where?” I asked.
“About two hundred yards.”
Valiana joined us, her hand on the hilt of her sword. “I don’t see anything.”
“Listen.”
After a few seconds the rest of us could make out the sound of a horse cart, its wheels making bumpy progress along the trade road.
“Hide, fight, or flee?” Kest asked.
I looked at Brasti. “Are there other horses with the cart?”
“No, I doubt it’s anything more than a merchant.”
“Keep close to the horses,” I said.
A minute later an old man rode along, sitting on top of a wagon pulled by two sorry-looking mules. “Greatcoats, eh?” he said, pulling to a stop.
I nodded.
“Got redweed,” he said. “Good for sore gums.” He peered at us as if trying to see our teeth.
“Thanks, but we’re fine,” I said.
“Got lots of other things. Stems from jackroot; that’ll help with joint pain. Give you a little boost with the ladies in the bargain, or so my customers tell me.”
“Again, no.”
He let go of the reins and pulled the blanket up from the back of his wagon. There were dozens of jars and boxes there. “Can’t tell me you don’t need anything for healing,” he said. “Fellas like you? Must get into all kinds of scrapes. How about some black thelma? Does a fine job on bruises.”
“I . . .” A thought occurred to me. “Have you got anything for neatha poisoning?” I asked.
“Neatha? You sure you got the right name?”
“Yes, neatha.”
The old man shook his head. “Might as well ask if I’ve got a cure for rain. Stay out of it, that’s the cure. Neatha’s lethal, son. One whiff and you’re gone. Not a bad way to go, or so they say. Not sure how ‘they’ would know though.”
“All right. Have you ever heard of a man being paralyzed in the morning, after his body’s been still for a few hours?”
“How long does it last?” he asked.
“A few minutes. Maybe as much as an hour. Followed by stiffness in the limbs.”
“I think they call it old age, son.”
“It’s not that, it’s—”
“Doesn’t make a difference either way,” he said. “Neatha’s fatal. A man’s exposed to it and he dies. It’s that simple.”
“I was exposed,” I said. “And I’m still moving.”
The old man took up the reins of his mules. “If you got hit by neatha then you’re dead, son. Your body just needs a bit of time to figure that out, is all.”
“Cheerful old bastard,” Brasti said. He looked at the sun starting to slowly set in the sky. “I need a drink. Hey, old man,” he called out. “Is there a town with an inn close by?”
“Shalliard,” the man shouted back. “Three hours the way you’re headed. Assuming you don’t fall off your horse and die first.”
Brasti grinned. “Well, I think at least some of us can manage that, can’t we?”
We spent that night in a small inn called the Golden Bell, and the following morning I awoke to the sight of my King, which was remarkable, since he’d been dead for more than five years. His form was blurry and dark, which made sense seeing as my eyes were still shut. I couldn’t make sense of his features nor his clothing, yet there was something so distinctive about that thin, bony frame and the ungainly posture that always made me think he was about to tell a dirty joke.
White light began ever so slowly to fill my vision and I realized that my eyes must be opening. I was coming out of the paralysis. Oddly, my hallucination became sharper, and for a brief moment I could see King Paelis as clearly as if he were just inches away from me. He looked just as he had the last time I’d seen him, in that cold tower above Castle Aramor where he’d spent his last hours. His gaze was gentle and he opened his mouth. I was surprised that I could hear his voice so clearly. He said only four words before my eyes opened fully.
What he said was, “You will betray her.”
The harsh rays of morning light banished my vision, and the King’s face was replaced with that of Kest.
“Can you move yet?” he asked.
“I think so,” I said.
“Rest a minute.”
Sound advice. “What are the others doing?”
“Brasti went hunting. He said there’s some kind of wild pheasant in these parts that’s prized by the nobles of Pulnam. I think he misses being a poacher.”
“What about Valiana?” I asked.
“Same as always—practicing. Dariana’s a good teacher, despite her odd fencing style. I still can’t quite place it.”
“A mystery for another day,” I said, leaning on my elbow and pushing my way unsteadily to my feet.
Kest gave me a hand. When I was standing he looked at me and said, “It was twelve minutes this time.”
“What are you talking about?” I already knew the answer; I just didn’t want to think about it right now. The first time I’d awakened trapped in my own body, the paralysis had lasted just a few seconds. Then it was a full minute. Now it was twelve.
“What are you going to do?” Kest asked.
“Nothing. We make our way to the Ducal Palace of Aramor and knock very softly and politely at the gate. If all goes well, we’ll secure Isault’s support and then move on to Luth and Pertine and whomever else we need to put the King’s heir on the throne.”
“And then?”
“Then? Then we get me cured and find something else to worry about,” I said, grinning.
Kest shrugged and helped me pack up my bedroll. In my mind I imagined an island I’d heard of just off the coast of Baern in the warm southern sea, and a woman with dark hair and a pretty face with tiny wrinkles around her eyes who had given me respite and hope when I’d needed it most. Let me see Ethalia once more before the end, I thought. That’s all I ask.
“Let’s go,” I said. “Aramor awaits. Saints willing we can do this without screwing up the entire world.”
In case I’ve never mentioned it before, in Tristia the Saints only answer the calls of the very rich, the very powerful, or those blessed by the Gods. I had never been any of those things.