The Born Queen - J. Gregory Keyes [35]
Aspar felt an even deeper chill settle in. Months earlier, to save the lives of his friends, he had made a bargain.
“I won’t ask for the life of anyone you love. I won’t ask you to spare one of my children.”
“That’s what we agreed,” Aspar said. “I remember.”
She’ll ask for my life, he suddenly thought. But no, it wasn’t going to be that simple.
“Here is your geos,” she said. “The next human being you meet, you’ll take under your protection. And you will take that person to the valley where you found the Briar King sleeping.”
“Why?”
“That’s not in the bargain, holter. I honored my part; now it’s time for you to honor yours.”
He sighed, trying to think what the witch could mean. Leshya was right; he’d been thinking about going back there anyway. But what could the Sarnwood witch be up to?
But he’d given his word, and she had kept hers.
“Yah,” he said. “I’ll do it.”
“Yes, you will,” she replied. The utin seemed to sag further, and a long soft exhalation escaped its lips. “If you live…”
Already Aspar could hear something else coming through the trees. He pushed himself up, every part of him shaking, and held the knife before him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE TOWN BETWEEN
HIS BLOOD soaks this ground. But his soul is with the Draugs.
Muriele stared at the sungilt waves and wondered what to feel. William had been a good man, a fair king. As husband he hadn’t been mean or abusive, but he often hadn’t much been there, either. Maintaining several mistresses tended to be draining. Against the grain she had loved him, and she mourned for him. She could remember the scent on his clothes even now.
Alis took her hand. It felt good, the young, honest warmth of it. She looked at the girl, a pretty brown-haired creature of twenty.
“Robert came one night,” Muriele said. “When I was alone. When he thought you dead. He was drunk and even more cruel than usual, and he told me how William died.”
“He might have lied,” Alis said.
“He might have,” Muriele agreed. “But the details make me think he was telling the truth.” She took a step so that they stood at the edge of the cliff. She looked at the waves breaking far below.
“It was an ambush, and William had fallen wounded from his horse. Robert dragged him here and meant to gloat and kick him over the edge. But William managed to enrage him with taunts, tricked him into stooping down, and then Wil struck him in the heart with his echein doif. That was how Robert learned he could not die.” She squeezed her friend’s hand. “Why would Robert tell a lie so unflattering to himself?”
“Robert does not like himself very well,” Alis said. Her voice sounded odd, and when Muriele looked up, she saw tears in the younger woman’s eyes.
“You loved my poor husband,” she said.
“I don’t know,” Alis admitted. “But I miss him.”
“Well, at least he has Gramme to keep him company,” Muriele said, feeling suddenly mordant.
“Muriele…”
“Hush. It’s past. To tell the truth, if I could have him back, I wouldn’t mind if you were his mistress. At least not so much as I did before.”
“I hope your next husband feels the same,” Alis said lightly.
Muriele gave her a hug, then turned back to the sea.
“Good-bye, William,” she called.
Together they walked back to where the others waited.
Neil watched the two women stride toward the party, remembering his own recent ghosts: Fastia, Muriele’s eldest daughter, who had died in his arms; Erren, the coven-trained assassin who had protected the queen when he first had met her. He had loved the first and respected the second, and both had been lost to the lands of fate the same day King William was slain.
Erren and Muriele had been together so long when he met them that they had seemed sisters to Neil. Alis was something different. She had been one of William’s mistresses, for one thing. And now, suddenly, she was Muriele’s maid, bodyguard, best friend. Aside from Muriele, he was the only one in the party who knew the girl claimed coven training. But what coven? Who was her mestra? She wouldn’t say.
“Thank you, Aradal, for that detour,” Muriele