“Yes, women may pursue these interests as well, but most choose not to because they are preoccupied with generating political support and wealth to become independent. In Ashai, everything was backward, and I would have had no chance to create a house of my own. My father had hoped that he could acquire enough wealth working for the duke to see me through, at least until I married or returned to my family’s house in Lon Lerésh, but Ytrevius was not a generous employer. My father taught me the sword to protect myself and because it was the one skill he knew best. If nothing else, I could join the army or work as a guard, assuming I found an employer to accept a woman.”
“Which you did,” Nanessy said with an encouraging smile.
Sadness filled Yserria’s green eyes. “Yes, but at great cost.”
“Palis wasn’t your fault,” Reaylin said.
Yserria turned her gaze toward the colorful flags and buildings. “Not everyone agrees.”
Rezkin rode ahead of the carriage, his vigilance intensified by the fact that he had already acquired two new daggers that had been generously tossed his way. It seemed not everyone was excited for his presence in the city. He did not believe the weapons to be a true attempt on his life since anyone good enough to throw one with accuracy would know the amount of armor he wore would make it nearly impossible to land a fatal strike. The weapons were meant to serve as warnings or tests of his skill. In a land where people acquired their positions through challenge or assassination of their betters, such things were apparently commonplace.
The palace was not located within the city proper. It sat atop a knoll surrounded at its base by densely packed briars and soggy, brine marshland that had been created artificially by a manmade canal that led from the sea. The canal was a deep, dry chasm at that time, though, the gates opening to fill it only when the marsh began to dry. The bridge that passed over the empty canal and marsh transitioned to a steep road with several switchbacks to make it possible for the carriage to travel safely. A stone stairway led straight up the side of the hill to the palace for those who desired a more direct foot route.
The wall surrounding the grounds was not as tall as the walls of some cities, but due to the steep slope upon which it was built, it was still formidable. The elaborately decorated palace had three tall spires surrounding a central domed complex. The walls were made of white stone, and the wooden beams and balustrades were bleached white or blonde like driftwood. From every window fluttered curtains, banners, or flags, a bright contrast to the overcast sky.
The four matrianeras who had escorted them from the docks guided the party from the courtyard entrance through several passages and stairwells within the main hold. The corridors were lined with guards, and curious onlookers gawked and giggled from farther down the blocked side passages. The corridors were painted different colors and bore tapestries, paintings, and sculptures to match a theme. A corridor painted the same yellow-gold as the soldier’s tabards contained militaristic artwork with scenes of battles, presumably famous leaders, or weapons and armor; while a green corridor had portraits of men, women, and children whom their guides identified as members of the queen’s family. It was in this passage that their third-floor suite was located, and it consisted of a sitting room and three bed chambers that they were apparently expected to share.
Rezkin surveyed each of the rooms and then returned to their escorts. The matrianeras had removed the overgowns of livery, and each was now displaying far more of herself than was appropriate in any of the kingdoms he had visited.
He said, “Why are we assigned to this wing?”
The blonde smirked. “The queen does not trust us, of course. No one is permitted in this corridor except for her consort and family.”
“Yet you are here,” he observed.
“We made a deal for the honor of escorting you,” she said as she ran manicured fingers over her exposed midriff.
Her pale blue silk skirt hung low on her hips, and the matching corset she wore, sans blouse, barely reached her lower ribs.
“What was the deal?” he asked.
“It is not important for you,” she said. “You will not see us here again, but be assured that you will see us.” She strode closer and toyed with a loose lock of her wavy, golden curls. “Will you not remove your mask so that we may know you?”
“You should not be so eager to know me, Matrianera …”
“Telía.” She smiled coyly and said, “Why is that?”
“People who know me often do not survive.”
Telía’s expression faltered, and the brown-haired woman who had been silently observing finally spoke. “We should go, Telía. Erisial will not be pleased that we have lingered in her wing.”
“But he has not yet given us his name,” Telía said as she looked back at him expectantly.
Rezkin felt the buzz of mage power alight, but it did not come from Telía. It was the older grey-haired woman from whom the vimara emanated.
He said, “I do not have a name.”
The older woman inhaled sharply. “He speaks truth.”
Telía’s smile quivered again. “A nameless one? How fascinating.”
Dark Tidings turned his black gaze to the older woman. “You are a truthseeker?”
“I would not say that I seek the truth, only that I hear it,” the woman said. “I am Matrianera Vielda. “What kind of man does not have a name? Everyone in every kingdom is given a name at birth.”
Dark Tidings cocked his head eerily and said, “What gave you the impression that I am a man or that I was born?”
“Let us go,” said the brown-haired woman as she tugged at the red-head’s arm.
Matrianera Vielda said, “Yes, Telía, come. We will let Erisial know that he is here.” To Rezkin, she said, “A feast is being prepared in honor of your arrival. You and your”—her eyes flicked to his companions—“guests will join us at seven bells.”
The women departed, and Rezkin gave the sign for Wesson to ward the room against eavesdropping. His survey also revealed three objects enchanted for that purpose, which Wesson quickly dismantled.
“What was that about not being born?” Frisha said with a huff as Rezkin removed his mask.
“Theatrics, Frisha. I do not want these women to become personally interested. It is better they fear me.”
“Yes, Telía seemed very interested,” she snapped.
“Matrianera Telía. Formalities are important here. You cannot drop her title unless you have one of equal or greater status.”
“Fine,” she said, “but I cannot believe they would walk around like that. They were practically spilling out of their clothes.”
“Their sense of propriety is different here. In Lon Lerésh, a woman’s body belongs only to her. She is not required to submit to anyone else’s ideals of what is appropriate to do with it.”
Reaylin said, “So a woman could strut naked down the corridor, and no one could say anything?”
“Exactly,” Rezkin said. “But they also use their feminine attributes to get what they want, so they do not tend to give away for free what they feel should be earned.”
Frisha said, “What if a man tries to take something that she’s not offering?”
“You will not find a place with harsher punishments for such a crime. For a man to attack a woman is torture and death.”
“What if the man is innocent?” Frisha said in horror.
Rezkin said, “The truthseekers ensure the woman is not lying.”
Nanessy added, “The Leréshi have the greatest number of truthseekers in any of the kingdoms. I do not know of any in Ashai, but I hear there are dozens in Lon Lerésh.”
“What are truthseekers?” said Reaylin.
“Their vimara allows them to sense what is true. Some can see truth through enchantments, illusions, and disguises. Others can hear when someone speaks truth or lies as Matrianera Vielda demonstrated. This one is tricky, though, because it is dependent on whether the person speaking the lie believes it to be true.”
Frisha shivered. “So Matrianera Vielda will know if we are lying?”
Reaylin said, “Then, why did she believe you when you said you don’t have a name?”
Nanessy seemed just as perplexed.
“Because I do not,” he said.
“But your name is Rezkin,” Reaylin said.
“Rezkin is not my name. It is what some people call me.”