"Which ones? What were their names?"
It hit her like a punch in the gut, pushing the anger out of her. Her knees went weak, and she felt as if there were no longer anything in her at all. She put her hand against the wall, but it would not support her, and the next thing she knew, she was on the ground.
What was happening to her?
But then Cazio had her cradled in his arms. He smelled both clean and sweaty, which seemed odd.
"I"m sorry," he said.
"No," she managed. "I should know, shouldn"t I? I should know who died. I don"t understand what"s wrong with me, Cazio."
"There"s a lot going on," Cazio said. "A lot to worry about."
"I feel-I"m sorry I asked you to walk the faneway, Cazio. I"m sorry. I couldn"t bear to lose you."
"I want you to understand-" he began.
Something suddenly tumbled into place, and Anne nearly gasped with understanding.
"No, hush," she said, knowing what she needed to do. "We won"t talk of this again." She tapped his shoulder. "You can put me down now," she said. "I"m fine. Pack your things. We"ll leave for Eslen by noon. Time for me to really act like a queen."
Cazio cast a look back over his shoulder at the monastery. Besides the Craftsmen still walking the fanes, they had left it invested with nearly two hundred men. The Church was sure to attempt to take it back.
He glanced at Anne. Her face was composed and freshly powdered. He had no idea what she was thinking.
He wasn"t sure what he he was thinking. First the sudden kiss, then her request that he make himself unnatural. was thinking. First the sudden kiss, then her request that he make himself unnatural.
It had been very simple once. He had pledged to keep two girls alive, and with the help of his mentor, z"Acatto, he had managed to do it. But since Anne had come back into her kingdom, surrounding herself with knights, lords, and Sefry, he had been less sure of his footing. He had found his place in continuing to be her bodyguard, and he thought he had done tolerably well at it.
But she didn"t seem to think so. He had shocked her into withdrawing her request, but she had made it and could not take it back.
He glanced back again. Should he?
But the mere thought sickened him.
They traveled all day, following the banks of the Warlock River, stopping for the night at Tor Aver, a small castle just beyond the edge of the forest. They had stayed there a few nights before when preparing the a.s.sault on the monastery, and the knight who had charge of it, Sir Robert Taverner, had a feast prepared for them by the time they arrived. It wasn"t bad, but one of the discoveries Cazio had made in his travels was that good cooks were vanishingly scarce in this part of the world. The meat was heavy, greasy, more often boiled than roasted, and rarely provided with a proper sauce. The bread was grainy and dull, fruit nonexistent, cheese depressingly similar from place to place and meal to meal. The fare was better and more varied at court, of course, but then, he had spent hardly any time at court.
The wine was often undrinkably sweet, especially the white, and so far he hadn"t found much to like about beer or mead, which tasted to him like rotted bread and bear p.i.s.s, respectively. Not that he had tasted bear p.i.s.s, but now he didn"t have to.
Sir Robert"s meal did not set itself above the standard, but Cazio managed to fill himself without any unpleasant incidents. He didn"t feel much like talking, so he watched Anne, trying to gauge her mood. He had known her for more than a year and in many trying circ.u.mstances, but he had never known her to be so suddenly changeable as in these last few days.
But she seemed at ease, chatting with Sir Robert and the guests he had invited. The anger and remorse of the morning seemed forgotten.
And so, feeling heavy with the sweet wine, he excused himself to the chamber provided for him and lay there, wishing he were drunk on a better vintage, wishing for other things.
He was nearly asleep when the door cracked open. Blinking, he saw Anne"s face in the candlelight, and with a guilty start he realized that one of his wishes had come true. He opened his mouth to attempt another denial, but the words glued themselves there.
"Cazio?"
"Majesty."
"Just Anne, for the moment," she said.
"Ah," he managed. "Anne." How was it he once had felt comfortable saying her name?
"Don"t worry," she said, "I haven"t come to test your virtue again. May I enter?"
"Of course."
He was still in his clothes, but he somehow felt he ought to cover himself.
She stepped in, shuffled her feet another half step, and stopped.
"I was wrong to ask you to walk the faneway, Cazio. I want you to know I understand. There are so many people around me I don"t really know, much less trust. But I trust you. Today you"ve only proved that I can trust you to protect me, even against myself."
"I"m glad you understand."
She nodded, and something odd worked behind her eyes. She cleared her throat softly. "So," she said. "I need you to go to Dunmrogh."
Cazio blinked, wondering what he had missed. His king"s tongue was still not so good.
"Dunmrogh."
"Yes. I want you to take a garrison there to guard the fane. I want you to command it."
"I don"t understand," Cazio said. "I"m not a commander. I"m a swordsman, that"s all."
"You"re a swordsman I trust," she said.
"To guard you, you," he said.
"I have my Sefry," she said. "And the Craftsmen."
"Mamres knights."
"Two or three of them might make one of you," she said. "But I shall have to make do."
"This doesn"t make sense to me," he said. Was she trying to shame him into walking the faneway?
"It"s only for a while," Anne said. "I know you"ll miss Austra, but I"ll send her to be with you. I know you want to guard me. But I"m asking you, as my friend, to do this."
Cazio struggled for something to say. His chest was tight. This felt like an attack from nowhere, one he had no parry and riposte for.
"Won"t you reconsider?"
"Cazio," she said softly, "you aren"t one of my subjects. Everything you"ve ever done for me, you did because you wanted to. I"m not ordering you to do this, just asking." She sighed and closed her eyes. "I had a vision. I need you there."
Her eyes remained shut for a long moment, and he examined her face, thinking how familiar it had become and how strange that was. How had he come to this place? Shouldn"t he be back in Vitellio, sunning himself in some piato, seducing girls and starting duels? Guarding her was one thing, but this war-was it really his? Did he care about it if Anne and Austra were removed from the equation?
He didn"t know.
But he nodded when she opened her eyes. "Very well," he sighed. "I shall do as you ask."
Even as he said it, he felt something turn in him and knew that he had never agreed to anything in his life that felt more wrong.
CHAPTER NINE.
ZEMLe"S T TALE STEPHEN WOKE paralyzed, a shriek of terror fused in his throat. Invisible things crawled in the darkness, and just at the corner of his vision a hard red light sparked. He couldn"t look at it because he knew that whatever it was was so terrible that his heart would stop from the sheer horror of it. paralyzed, a shriek of terror fused in his throat. Invisible things crawled in the darkness, and just at the corner of his vision a hard red light sparked. He couldn"t look at it because he knew that whatever it was was so terrible that his heart would stop from the sheer horror of it.
He felt tears start in his eyes as he tried again to scream but could not.
Then, abruptly, the light vanished, and his whole body seized. He flailed his arms at the dark things, and finally the shriek tore from his throat.
Something grappled at his arms, and he sobbed another low howl, striking frantically at his attacker.
"Stephen! Stephen!"
At first he couldn"t identify the voice, but he was suddenly free of groping fingers.
"Why?" he heard himself shout.
"Stephen, it"s a Black Mary. Do you understand? It"s me, Zemle. It"s me."
"Zemle?"
"It"s me, meldhe," she said more softly, using her lover"s name for him. "It"s only me. You were thrashing in your sleep."
"Where are we?"
"In our bed," she said. "Wait, let me kindle the lamp."
A moment later, features appeared and the darkness backed into the distance.
But it wasn"t Zemle"s face.
When he woke again, every lamp and candle in the room was glowing. Zemle sat across the bed from him, looking concerned.
"What?" he murmured.
"Well, at least you didn"t scream at me this time," she said.
"It wasn"t you," he tried to explain.
"Black Mary follow you back, then?"
Stephen nodded without understanding. Zemle offered him a cup of something that smelled minty.
"Saint Weylan"s root and siftras," she explained. "That will chase off the Mary."
He nodded and took a sip. "There"s something wrong with me," he murmured.
"Everyone has bad dreams."
He shook his head. "Do you remember what I saw in the scriftorium in Demsted? The face in the flame?"
She nodded reluctantly.
"And the thing that pa.s.sed through our room a few months ago?"
Her brow crinkled. "Meldhe, that might have been a dream, too," she said softly.
"I wrote something in someone else"s hand," he said, knowing it sounded quite mad. "It was a warning against that thing, I think, against something evil come into the mountain."
"Who do you think was warning you?"
"Kauron," he said. "I think he"s helped me before, on the way here. Maybe before that. And these Black Marys-I"ve had those before, too.
"I know," she said. "More and more often. Almost every night now. But not usually so violent."
He nodded and took another sip of the tea, then noticed something.
"What happened to the side of your face?" he asked.
She turned away, but it was too late to hide the red mark that by the morning would be starting to purple.
"I did that?" he asked.
"You did not mean to."
"That"s no excuse!" he cried. "Saints, Zemle, I"ve hurt you."
"You were in a terror. You didn"t know me."
"That"s..." He reached forward, "I"m so sorry," he said.
He was afraid she would flinch, but she let him touch her face.
"I know," she said. "Believe me, if I thought you did it on purpose, you would know it." She touched his arm lightly as she said it. "Now, tell me more. About today."