ASHE
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Chapter Six
Which deals with cats and cousins.
Bright sunlight woke her. Bright sunlight that turned the world red through the light cover of her eyelids.
Ashe sat up in a haze of warmth, and then stared about her. She was sitting in a pool of shallow water just off the fast-moving swirl of a broad green river. Ashe looked around, totally confused. To her side lay a sword – apparently her sword – and almost on the bank lay her cloak. Ashe got to her feet and squelched her way out of the water. She reached the riverbank and looked around her. Fields on either side, and the purple mountains far away. The sunlight eased her. Ashe shrugged her shoulders, decided that she’d clearly lost her mind, and then took off her clothes, arranged them on flattish rocks to dry and walked back to the river.
She dived in. The green water rose up all around her, and she tussled with the current that spun her round, carried her downstream and then let her go. It was the strangest thing, but all the time she was in the water, her view only slightly distorted by the different element, Ashe had the odd impression that the river was playing with her. The touch of the water-weed felt like an embrace, the cooler pockets of water that she swam through felt like very faint admonishments. She was unable to see the hectic, delighted face of the water spirits as they wrapped themselves around their rescued kin. Perhaps it was as well.
When she climbed out of the water, much later, Ashe had the strongest sensation of having left something behind. Something she couldn’t put a name to… something not quite tangible.
Ashe put her clothes back on; they felt cumbersome after the freedom of the water and then she started walking again.
*******
The queen lay in almost total silence. Jura stood at the window, looking out onto a world gone mad. Cairo had just left them. Cairo, looking nothing like her usual, philosophical self, had come tearing through the palace like a woman possessed. The message she brought hung about the palace like a touch of plague. Jura had taken Cairo by the shoulders and shaken her, made Cairo tell her story through twice because she couldn’t believe it, and because something inside her hoped that Cairo would suddenly break down and confess that it was all lies. Cairo had broken down, but she’d never denied the facts.
Rhea knew about Leanna’s illness, and Jura understood that the queen’s illness had gone from a problem to a potentially mortal threat because of Calypso. Jura hated Calypso so fiercely that she couldn’t even bear to look at her.
Laure sat in the room, beside the bed. She was in shock. She might have been absent from the royal presence the night before, but now she was making up for lost time. Laure held one of the queen’s cold hands in her own, breathing gently on it for warmth, feeling the light flutter of the queen’s pulse. She had stopped crying; her eyes were red and her hair and clothes were disordered. Calypso had stepped into the breach of Lammor’s having no queen and no (functional) companion, let alone a princess, and was making herself known. Everywhere Calypso went, Alexis accompanied her, silent as a shadow, fixed as Calypso’s own intentions. This, Alexis knew, was the time of greatest danger. Calypso was not yet well-enough known: Cairo was a loose cannon and if there was going to be an attempt at an assassination, it would be soon.
Alexis missed her old sword. It had seen her through a great many battles and she had come to value it. It surprised her that Ashe had taken it. Shouldn’t have given her so much leeway, thought Alexis, putting up a hand to the back of her skull and feeling the bump there. A little harder and Alexis would have had nothing further to worry about… On the other hand, thought Alexis, it’s the only thing Ashe got out of the whole damn picture… She shouldn’t begrudge Ashe a simple sword.
Calypso made her way around the court, talked with everyone, visited every room from the kitchens up. Her last port of call was the queen’s bedroom, but before she went there, she went up to the top of the palace and looked out over the land. Alexis, still with her, was even quieter than usual. “Alexis, why didn’t you kill Ashe? I know her death would have looked a bit odd, coming so soon after her disappearance, but most are putting that down to Ashe’s being too embarrassed to stick around. No one would have missed her.”
“Apart from Cairo,” said Alexis. She glanced down at her feet. “Cairo would have missed her, and noisily, I suspect. And perhaps Laure would have missed her too, in time.”
“Are you trying to make me angry?”
“No. I know that you are becoming angry, but that wasn’t my intention. I am simply pointing out the things you need to consider. Laure is currently in shock. Later she may come to you for reassurance or she may not. At some point, six months from now, perhaps a year, she’ll come to miss Ashe.”
“I think she might have been thinking of her last night,” said Calypso, smiling a little. “I think that last night was a bit of a shock to the princess.”
Alexis looked at her. She almost said, And you think that the news that you were joining in alliance with the princess wasn’t a shock to me? Alexis’s magic was of a very specific kind: there were things she never thought to look for, and probably couldn’t have found in any case. She tried to restrain her thoughts before her face gave her away. Alexis had spent the night alone. Calypso was pushing her luck.
“Oh, Alexis, don’t say you’re feeling jealous.” Calypso smiled more broadly.
Alexis thought, One day she will smile like that at the wrong person and they will kill her for it. Aloud she said, “What I did was safer. This way we have no more disappearances. We have instead…” she thought back to the room in the tower and felt what damage she had done to herself in robbing Rhea of both sense and power, “We have instead contained the situation. There will not be too many coincidences.”
“At what point am I to bring forward your… special powers?” Alexis didn’t look at her. “Whatever else you do, Alexis, don’t take off your shirt again. Once in a lifetime is enough for that.”
Alexis thought, She never can bear the signs of my power, or acknowledge what it’s cost me. And yet she’s a good leader, and she will govern well enough. She should govern well. Until she loses or begins to abuse her own power. She tightened the laces that held her shirt closed.
“How is your head this morning?”
“Better. A little sore.”
“How strange that you did not… see what would happen to you.” Now they were almost sparring, Calypso looking past Alexis, not meeting her eyes. Alexis could have told Laure that the remark about game-playing was not accurate: Calypso played as many games as anyone else. Probably far more.
“Calypso, you know that my magic does not work in that manner. Besides, it would be wrong for me to use magic in every little thing for me. Sometimes I just make mistakes.”
“If I thought,” Calypso began, and broke off. She turned that smile on Alexis. “If I thought that you had let Ashe go…”
“Yes. And of course, it was entirely reasonable that after your treatment of her, and my taking her off, that she would leave me with a headache, rather than a knife between the ribs. I can only guess that dragging her down to the dungeons made a good impression…”
Calypso laughed. “There is that, of course.” Then the subject was done with. It really was as simple as that. Alexis fought the urge to sigh with relief. Instead she put her hand to the bump on the back of her head and pressed it hard. The simplicity of pain cleared her mind of both her own doubts and Calypso’s.
“Now we have to decide what to do with Cairo.”
“And Jura. Don’t forget her. Jura has the potential to be a problem.”
“She’s almost a Mercian,” said Alexis, almost the greatest compliment she could pay anyone. “She’s a sensible woman. Just play down the whole Rhea issue and concentrate on getting her to agree with you. Don’t be too cocky.” The moment the words were out, Alexis knew that she had made a mistake. She nearly slapped a hand to her mouth.
Very slowly, Calypso turned to face Alexis. For a moment she said nothing, then she began to smile, and then to grin. Her whole being relaxed, and when she put up her hands, Alexis read the movement as suggestive of something other than… something other than the blow Calypso inflicted. Alexis was a strong woman, and sturdily built, but she went flying. Steadying herself with one hand on the ground, Alexis tasted blood in her mouth. “Good advice,” said Calypso, and walked off toward the queen’s bedchamber, leaving Alexis behind her. Her closing words hung on the air behind her: “Don’t be too cocky. Good, good advice, Alexis.”
Why did I let her go? I let Ashe go because she’s me. She stood in the same position to Laure that I do to you. And I know that to you and the princess, Ashe and I are both of us expendable. And the sad thing is that she and both knew that.
*******
Ashe walked all day. She knew that she should be hungry, but she wasn’t. She knew too that she had no idea of where she was going to, or where she’d been before she’d started out. It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation, but she did feel a little confused. There were other puzzling issues, that she was still mulling over. For one thing, there were all sorts of scars running over what she could see of her body. None of them were bad, and certainly none of them hurt, but it was as if her body had been taken apart, and then put back together, with all the joins just showing. Something else puzzled her: the sword she was carrying. It was a nice weapon, beautifully wrought, and it moved well in her hands. But she didn’t remember where it had come from. Her cloak, too, was wrong. It was a little too broad in the shoulders for her, and she’d had to tear a strip from its base to stop it from trailing in the dirt. If she thought very hard about any of these things she’d become aware of a sensation like the onset of pain. It made no sense.
Ashe looked up at the moon, which was just beginning to wane; the full-moon must have finished the night before. Ashe looked about her for a suitable place to camp. Eventually she fixed on a spot beneath a tree. She’d be well-hidden – from what? – and if it rained she’d have shelter. Ashe used her jacket for a pillow, wrapped her cloak around her and placed one hand on the hilt of her sword. She closed her eyes and was immediately asleep.
*******
“All that I’m saying is, give the idea a little thought.” Calypso stood in the queen’s bedchamber, one of her hands resting gently on Jura’s. “This is a terrible time: first the queen’s collapse and then this awful news about Rhea. How terrible. I know that it must seem a little… interfering of me, but I think it’s for the best. You stay here with the queen, I’ll talk to the Elders about treatments, and I will manage the day-to-day running of the court. I’ll check in with Laure from time to time. You both should stay here with the queen.”
Some distillation of assurance was passed through Calypso’s hands into Jura’s spirit. Jura was hardly disposed to tolerate Calypso, let alone like her, but Jura was tired and almost out of her mind with worry. Her defences were weak and Calypso was doing her best to work with that. A part of Jura was actively fighting the invasion of another will, but she was too absorbed in the queen’s illness to be sufficiently conscious of it. It was Laure who, hearing the pretty little speech, turned upon Calypso a stare of disbelief. When Calypso looked at Laure she saw for the first time the beginning of distrust.
A part of Calypso wanted to turn round and say to the two of them, Look, I’m winning. I’m the stronger power: don’t fight me. You can’t win. But of course, she couldn’t say it. She just sighed deeply, and walked around the bed and sat beside Laure, sensibly sitting on the floor by the princess’s feet, to give the suggestion of an humility Calypso would rather die than experience. “Hullo, love.” Her voice was comforting, comfortable. She didn’t try to touch Laure – for her plans to work, any move had to come from the princess. “How are you doing?”
Laure looked down at the top of Calypso’s pale blond hair and thought about killing her. It wouldn’t be hard: all she needed was a weapon, a knife, a sword, the blade of an axe… She said, “You seem to be doing a very good job of insinuating yourself into every possible crevice of the palace.” Calypso made a sound of involuntary hurt and disbelief. Laure said, “You remind me of a tick, Calypso. You find a host and dig yourself in.”
Calypso turned so that she could see Laure’s face. She made her voice a little uneven, just a little uncertain. “It’s hardly kind of the princess to speak to me in such a manner after I’ve left behind my home and all that I have to be with her. Is that how you really see me, Laure? As a kind of parasite?”
Calypso decided to go for a more direct approach and put one hand on Laure’s knee. The touch was very slight, but Calypso’s hand was warm, and there flowed from Calypso such a sense of gentle and semi-erotic contact that Laure began to weaken. “Well, I know that your laws state that once a consort has been chosen, only death can divide the happy pair,” her tone was heavy with regretful irony, “but if you feel that you’ve made such a huge mistake, I think I’d be better to go back to Mercia.” She paused to let the idea fix itself in Laure’s imagination. “There would be talk, of course, but…”
Laure interrupted her. “Talk? What kind of talk?”
“The obvious, Laure, the expected. That you took a Mercian and then rejected them because some bad things happened at the time. Laure, you know as well as I do that your mother’s not been well for some time.”
“Jura didn’t know how bad it was. Rhea did… Oh, if only Rhea could still help her!”
“The Elders are devoted to the court, Laure, devoted to your mother. Anything Rhea could do to help your mother, they can do…” Except cure her, she thought. “I’m sorry that your mother didn’t trust you enough to tell you about this illness. She should have told you: you’re a strong woman, Laure. You would have been able to cope with it.” And thus suggesting that the queen had thought Laure weak. Hmm. Good ploy. Calypso watched the warring emotions on Laure’s face and decided to give her a little space in which to consider the future.
“Laure, I’m going to leave you and Jura here with your mother. I bet you haven’t eaten, either of you. Look at you both! Rulers of the country and the servants forget to feed you. I’ll go get something sorted out. Leave it all to me.”
She walked to the door and went out without looking back once. When the door had closed, Jura turned to look at the space Calypso had left. She looked at Laure and said, “Oh, she’s good. She’s really, really good.” The contact hadn’t been long enough to overwhelm the queen’s partner. Laure’s contact was more recent and so stronger. She scowled at Jura.
“A fine welcome we’re giving her, my chosen consort, my new…” she hesitated before saying, “love.” Jura went back to the window.
“Right, Laure,” she said. “Your new love.” She looked down. The courtyard far below looked oddly attractive. Everything was in order down there. Outside everything looked so ordinary and quiet, and the air smelled sweet. Spring had really arrived. Gods, even the drop looked inviting. Jura thought that it might be time to take herself in hand.
*******
Cairo had gone back to Rhea’s room. She’d gone straight to the palace after finding Rhea. And now the Elders had taken Rhea away with them, away to somewhere safer than the snug little room in which she had suddenly and dramatically lost her mind and her magic. It was no wise-woman that Cairo had found there that morning, but instead, an elderly woman with wild and ragged hair, with blind eyes and half-open mouth. She hadn’t known Cairo; and Cairo still didn’t want to admit that she hadn’t known Rhea. In those first moments, when Rhea had come out into the room, unseeing, unknowing, helpless, lost, Cairo had wanted to run from the room. Probably screaming as she went. But Cairo was stronger than she knew, and she hadn’t run. And then later she had gone back to the room to see if she could get time to reverse itself and make everything right again. Even the river spirits would have had trouble saving Rhea, and she wasn’t even related to them. Cairo sat, dry-eyed and cold on the floor of a fireless room, and would not leave.
Rhea’s cat had finally returned to the tower, but she refused to eat. Now she sat on the table and Cairo sat on the floor and they looked at one another.
The air was full of the sound of birds: the turtle doves were returning to the city. Soon the swallows would be back, and the swifts, and last year’s nests would be examined, overhauled and mended or replaced. Cairo didn’t care.
All her life Cairo had lived within the city of Lascar: she’d never been far from the city. She enjoyed her work and the young women she slept with. One day she knew she’d settle down, but that time was far-off. She had gone from one day to another, a happy animal. And then in the space of only a few days (only days?) everything that mattered to her had just… dissolved. And in response to the massive changes all about her, Cairo had gone from being contented and easy about life to this new state of simply no longer caring. She didn’t want to see her own latest young woman, who was worried about her; she didn’t care about the beauty of the evening or the light of the moon as the moon rose in the sky above the city; she didn’t care about the bath-house and her duties in the stables; she didn’t care about the guests – some had already left – who still milled around the palace and walked about the city. They were uncertain as to whether they should stay or go. Soon more would pack and go, and that would begin the mass exodus. There would be plenty of work to do at the palace, and Cairo didn’t care about that, either.
All her life Cairo had been predominantly cheerful. She had her (very occasional) bad days or low days, but like her many passing lovers, such days were pretty transitory. It had come as a surprise to her to find that although she had plenty of friends, and countless relations, the people she considered her family proper were -had been - Rhea and Ashe.
Why hadn’t she gone after Ashe? Cairo was still thinking about Rhea’s telling her not to go, that Ashe should be alone, that there were things that Ashe could only do alone. Cairo had made a very rough response to that. But then, not everything Rhea foresaw was reliable, was it? Rhea had thought that only Ashe was in trouble. Well, true in a way, but just not Ashe alone. Cairo thought about the beauties of the decorated halls, and the sugar flowers that were crumbling, leaving sticky trails to mark the passing of their transitory existence. She thought about the queen lying ill and Laure looking as if someone had hit her on the head, and Jura looking lost and hopelessly oddly alien. Cairo was home, Ashe had gone and Rhea was… Rhea was just not there any more. It would have been easier to have coped with the concept of Rhea dead. And now Calypso had leapt into the breach and was “taking up the reins on a temporary basis”. Cairo hated people who talked like that. Having disliked Calypso from the first this called for no change of mood. Calypso could live or die and Cairo wouldn’t care.
Cairo drank another glass of Rhea’s brandy and then refilled her cup. It would only go to waste, otherwise. One day, a year or so back, she and Ashe had gone riding to the west, taking food and clothing for a night or so. Ashe wanted to see a great chalk figure that she had read of. Rhea said that the figure was worth seeing, and when they’d reached the hollow between hills, Cairo had to agree that the trip had been worth it.
The figure was an outline only of a vast figure standing upright, one foot pointing forward, the other out to the side. Both the figure’s arms were neatly bent at the elbow, and in each hand it held a stave as tall as itself. For a while they debated the meaning of the design. “A warrior,” said Cairo, pleased at having drawn the conclusion. “A warrior with two fine staves.” Ashe had smiled at her. “Alright, so you don’t agree. What do you think it means?”
“Me?” Ashe stood in replication of the figure, then she said, “I think it’s holding open the door between the worlds.”
“The door between the worlds? Ashe, have you had too much sun?”
Ashe shook her head. “No, I’m serious. Look for yourself. It isn’t an warlike stance, it’s a simple pushing apart, or… I suppose, pulling closed. The keeper of the door between the worlds.” She stopped talking when she saw that Cairo was about to laugh.
Cairo had laughed, and Ashe never said another word about the figure. Ashe who was never fanciful! But afterwards, Cairo had thought about the exchange. Ashe, she knew, had been quite serious. The Ashe who had no beliefs at all, who used the word goddess but had never seen one (Cairo once thought she herself had) had meant what she’d said. And when Cairo had glanced back as they rode off again, she thought she saw the figure move as if some heavy doors really were being opened… or shut. Much later she’d decided that the image was like her, and Ashe, and Rhea. There they were, so far apart, but she’d joined them. The idea pleased but embarrassed Cairo. And now it seemed as if the doors between all sorts of worlds seemed to be shutting tight,… or being thrown wide open.
She should have gone back to the palace, she should have… Cairo didn’t care about the palace, either. The only idea that appealed to her in any way (other than the process of finishing all the brandy) was that Ruth might come after here after her, being sententious and Ruth-like, and then Cairo could push her out the window.
The room didn’t feel bad, despite what had happened in it, but it did feel lonely. Catkin would not come to her, and Cairo began to worry that Catkin was going to fade away entirely. Cairo lay down, then curled up, her hands round her knees pulling them in close. At some point after Cairo had gone to sleep, Catkin made a careful approach, and then lay down close to Cairo, so that Cairo’s sleeping breath ruffled the cat’s grey fur.
*******
Later the same night, Laure walked aimlessly and silently around the battlements. The flags put up for the purpose of celebration had been taken down, doubtless on Calypso’s orders. The air was cold and Laure had no cloak. She walked more quickly, seeing her own breath show on the air.
The afternoon and evening had stretched on endlessly, with no change in the queen’s condition. Calypso had done as she had said – food and wine had been prepared and presented to the two women – but Laure had only taken enough to keep her body ticking over, and Jura didn’t eat at all.
Laure wondered about Alexis, who had been so very much – albeit it silently – in evidence as Calypso’s shadow for the early part of the day. Alexis had the habit of appearing suddenly and silently and when least expected. That first night she had thought that Calypso’s remark about getting Alexis to perform a demonstration had been meant only to shock her. When she had first met Calypso, Alexis had not been around. Now, seeing the two of them together Laure had become aware of a kind of physical shorthand between the two of them, similar to (but not better than) the one that she had once shared with Ashe. But surely between Calypso and Alexis, as with herself and Ashe, there was an imbalance.
An imbalance. For the first time Laure understood why she’d chosen Calypso over the still unknown Ashe. Ashe’s background was unknown: Calypso was the Mercian princess, and so stood on an equal social footing to Laure. Ashe could have been anyone. And Ashe had not been… as exciting as Calypso. Laure was not good at self-examination, but she did wonder how much freedom she’d given Ashe to be exciting in bed.
Laure thought back to her first meeting with Calypso. She’d not been immediately impressed: Calypso’s looks were startling, of course, and she carried about her an air of assurance that Laure liked. And of course, Calypso had gone out of her way to be charming to Laure. So, as Calypso had put it, it taken a week to win Laure round to the idea of an alliance, but only a single day to persuade Laure into her bed.
Perhaps it was because the queen had become temporarily invisible, it seemed to Laure that she too had suddenly lost her own powers. More and more she seemed to see servants she did not know. She had expected Calypso to bring at most a dozen followers. She hadn’t realised that the figure was closer to one hundred.
Calypso’s almost embarrassing confidence had reached out into even the darkest corners of the court. And everywhere Laure looked, she found faces she did not know, faces that were invariably respectful and almost gratuitously polite. And no-where were there any orders for her to give, not that she felt like giving many. How strange to feel powerless in one’s own home, she thought.
Laure did not miss Ashe. She didn’t think about Ashe. Ashe was gone and forgotten, as Laure reminded herself a dozen times a day. This was the new Lammoran reign, and it would be a splendid one. The sentiment didn’t hold up for a minute: the queen was desperately ill and no-one knew with what, Rhea was… not there any more, and Jura seemed to be detaching herself and her loyalties from everyone but the queen.
While she stood there, the cold evening air all around her, it was as if a voice whispered to her from the shadows. The voice suggested that Laure’s new reign was nothing but a word, and her memory would be worthless. She would be known, if she ever was known, as the woman who had rejected her lover and traded upwards for lust, destroying everything in her path, obliterating all the good that Lammor had ever stood for. Laure shut her eyes tight, and put her hands to her ears. She could not accept the implications.
At last she went back down to her room and sat down beside the fire. It could not be just two days since the new alliance had been announced: it could not be. Laure put her head in her hands.
The door slid slowly open. Calypso stepped inside. Standing with her back to the door, she observed Laure. She watched until she could just see the faintest shiver across Laure’s shoulders that meant she was crying. Calypso grinned to herself and slipped out again.
So far, everything was going according to plan. Hell, some things were going even better: could she have guessed that the queen was ill? Who would have known it? Calypso had not expected Jura to absolve herself of involvement in the ruling of Lascar (let alone the whole of Lammor) so very quickly and easily. But she reminded herself that from all that her spies had told her, Jura had never been in any way ambitious. Jura loved a woman who happened to be queen: that was all. And taking Ashe out of the picture had weakened Jura, too. Was it because Jura was reduced to the role of solitary outcast once more? Everyone knew that there had been a massive outcry when Leanna first stepped forward and introduced her new partner to the court. But the country needed a strong ruler, and Lammor was – Calypso was sure she could sense the feeling – ambitious. Why else had Lammor been involved in so many wars? Calypso knew of Lammor’s military past before she’d known anything else. All young Mercians were all well-schooled in the subject of warfare: learning the fighting history of the countries that bordered on Mercia was mandatory. And Calypso had always been interested in the politics – as well as the practice – of warfare.
Calypso wondered where Alexis was. Probably off sulking somewhere. Earlier they’d discussed Cairo and what was best to do about her. Calypso was happy to leave Cairo out of the equation, at least for the next few weeks. They had managed to get away with one disappearance and a wise-woman gone witless. Calypso didn’t believe in pushing her luck. But Alexis was different: Alexis had a single-minded approach to those she perceived as a threat. It was a trait that generally made things easier for Calypso, but this time she hesitated.
She regretted – if only very slightly – hitting Alexis. It was useful that Laure had not witnessed the exchange. And of course, it meant that Alexis would be difficult for the next few days. She would have to do something about that, but what? Calypso remembered Alexis saying something about a lost sword. Alright, she could have the nicest sword available presented to Alexis. That should fix things. But there would be no sex for Calypso until Alexis had stopped sulking. Somehow, Calypso couldn’t imagine Laure leaping to embrace her, after the various delights of the princess’s day… Well, who knew? Perhaps Laure would welcome a little show of affection. Calypso sighed. Affection was such a sticky, pointless emotion. She didn’t do affection.
*******
Ashe awoke at some point in the night. The wind had grown a little stronger and the gusts were making the leaves in the tree beneath where she lay rustle unnervingly. The sound was a little like that of some large animal picking bits of person from between its teeth. Ashe pressed her head further into the makeshift pillow and tried to regain a sense of the dream she’d been having. A very odd dream, by all standards. Ashe stretched out her hand and felt the reassuring cold of her sword. And then she felt something else.
She had been aware that the cloak she wore as a blanket was doing its job remarkably well. Evidently the cloak had virtues she was unused to. She was comfortably warm,… and oh, dear Goddess, there was something live lying beside her.
A wash of confusion broke over her. What kind of live thing would curl up beside someone in the manner of a hearthside tabby? She’d posed an easy-enough target, of course. And she’d been so very tired: a whole pack of wild animals could have thrown a raucous party around her before eating her… She gingerly reached her left hand out toward the shape.
The shape murmured something and snuggled up to Ashe.
Ashe sat up so fast that she bashed her head on a low branch. The force of the blow was enough to knock her out. With a small grunt she dropped backwards onto the ground.
A short silence followed. After a moment a small voice asked, “Did I kill her?”
There came a deep sigh, and then another voice, a little larger, a little more adult said, “No. No, you didn’t kill her. “ A deeper sigh. “I just knew we shouldn’t have done this. What was I thinking?! They’re going to be so cross when they find out.”
The two of them stood over Ashe. After a while, Sam said, “Look, if we put the pillow back under her head she might be alright.”
Calliope looked doubtful. “How are we going to explain the bump on her head?”
Sam shrugged her shoulders. She was still finding the whole walking-around-and-talking-thing to be a bit overwhelming. Also, she kept falling over her own feet. For her own part, Calliope was finding breathing a bit of a shock to the system. They sat down on either side of Ashe, Calliope balancing better than Sam.
“She looks different now,” said Sam. She compared the figure lying on the ground with the first impression she’d had of Ashe.
“That’s really not so strange,” said Calliope. “Think about it: she was dead, then. And very broken.” Sam nodded. The two of them continued to stare at Ashe.
“She’s really our cousin?”
Calliope said, “Distant cousin. Her race and our race used to be one. Then they took to the skies and we stayed in the water.”
“D’you think she’ll be pleased to see us?” Sam was an incurable optimist.
Calliope said, “Hopefully. Once she gets over the shock.”
The wind blew more coldly across the plain. The night seemed full of strange noises. Calliope and Sam looked at one another. Then they snuggled in on either side of Ashe, and pulled Alexis’s cloak over them all.
*******
Rhea’s room was full of the scent of sweet-burning logs and the brandy that Cairo had been drinking solidly for the past hour. Her breathing sounded a little scratchy in the otherwise quiet room. The fire had burned down to glowing ashes. Catkin’s golden eyes were open and they were fixed on Alexis, as Alexis slid into the room.
Alexis looked around her. The room was fairly dark: only a single candle burned, and the fire didn’t give off much light. Oh, goddess! What a place! What a bunch of incompetents! How the hell had Lammor ever raised an army, let alone fought and won wars?
Alexis stared down at Cairo’s sleeping figure. Alexis wanted to kick Cairo hard enough to wake her up to the stupid vulnerability of her situation. Kick her to wake her up and then kill her. Suddenly Alexis realised that that was exactly what she was going to do. She weighed the knife in her hand: it was good enough, and sharp and well-balanced, as all her weapons were, but it didn’t have the same reassuring weight of her sword. Silently she cursed Ashe again.
She leaned forward gently and knelt down before Cairo. She listened to the drunken breathing and with almost gentle hands she rolled Cairo onto her back. Alexis favoured throat-cutting. It was effective, it was quick, and it frightened all hell out of the victim. She pushed back the stiff collar of Cairo’s jacket and felt the blade of her knife with the ball of her thumb. She would have sworn that even such a light touch brought a thread of blood to the skin, but the room was too dark for her to see. Then the moon cleared the cloud, and something… happened.
It was as if the cat – Alexis hadn’t noticed the cat at first – and the sleeping woman rose as one from the ground. And as they rose, they merged, outlines twisting, changing. There was a sound like distant fireworks, and had she been in a position to see it, Alexis would have witnessed the gathering clouds above the roof of the tower glowing and crackling like turned coals.
Alexis went backwards, the knife still in her hand. The moon went back behind the cloud and there was a moment of complete silence. Alexis waited, frozen. A low growl broke the quiet. The moon came out again, and Alexis found herself looking at something entirely different.
What faced her now was something she had never met before. With its head at a level with her waist, and huge golden-green eyes that reflected back the moon, the beast growled. Its teeth shone in the light, as fine and silvered as Alexis’s own knife. Its hackles were rising, giving it a top-heavy look, but the broad feline feet were secure on the floor, and as it moved across the floor toward Alexis, she heard its claws scratch the stone floor.
Alexis slid back another step. She tried to keep her breathing steady. She kept her eyes fixed on the eyes of the thing before her. The beast growled again, and as it sprang forward, it sent Alexis flying. Alexis flew across the room, struck a wall and dropped to the floor with a grunt of pain and surprise. The creature padded out of the door and down the steps. Alexis lay prone on the floor.
*******
Sam and Calliope were still asleep. Ashe had groaned once or twice, in her sleep, and Calliope had put her hand to the bump on Ashe’s head, but there was no blood. She had taken some of the water in Ashe’s flask, and bathed the area.
*******
Laure had long-since stopped crying. She walked back to see her mother. There seemed to be no apparent change. Jura was still sitting at the bedside, and in the light of the fire Laure saw for the first time that Jura’s hair was going grey. She found herself staring. Jura looked up at her and smiled wryly.
“It only began today.”
“It looks… very distinguished,” said Laure. Then she became businesslike. “Jura, you should sleep. I’ll sit up with the queen tonight. Please. For me. Take my room and get a little rest. If there’s the slightest change, I’ll send for you right away.”
Jura stood up – swayed – and would have fallen but for Laure’s strong hold on her arm. Laure saw a movement at the door, recognised – for once – one of her own servants. “Take Jura to my room,” she instructed. “Stay with her. Wait on her. Have someone put outside this room, too.” The servant nodded, put a gentle arm round Jura and led her out of the room. Laure watched them go. A servant? A slave, perhaps. Ashe had spoken out against that, hadn’t she?
The queen moaned very softly in her sleep. Laure climbed onto the bed beside her and began stroking the fine pale hair away from the too-pale forehead. She glanced up and saw the moon sliding across the sky.
From some little distance away, the sound of a beast’s howl cut through the night. Calypso, sleeping poorly in a chair in Alexis’s room, waiting for the return of her companion, half woke at the sound. She waited for another cry, but none came. Calypso shivered in the cooling air, and wondered where Alexis was.
*******
Ashe dreams had become stranger still,… and her head ached fiercely. She felt as though she was awake, but that didn’t seem likely. For one thing, she was oddly constrained. Glancing from side to side at the two young girls who were sleeping with her Ashe decided that she was still dreaming, after all.
*******
A couple of hours before dawn, a large beast, of a kind never seen before, padded silently through the streets of Lascar and slipped through the city gates unnoticed.