“Women do not teach men or rule men,” says his father as he sips his wine.
“What of the example of Efea’s queens, my lord?” Maraya interposes. “For one hundred years the many Serenissimas have effectively administered the diplomacy, merchants, and markets of Efea. The kingdom is so rich that all three of the old Saroese kingdoms covet its wealth and periodically, as now, invade to try to grab it for themselves. What need of Precepts when we see the truth in the events we are living through?”
He sets down his cup. “I am impressed despite myself by the cleverness of you girls. I never imagined Orchid was your pretty sister all along.”
Maybe Maraya can control her expression. But he savors my shock with considerable gratification. “I confess I did not realize until Captain Helias recognized her when he went to the inn to fetch you, Jessamy. I am only sorry I was too late to gather her and Denya back into my net. Very well, Doma Maraya. You may assist in tutoring my son. I will monitor your progress.”
Doma Maraya! I’m astounded by this courteous address.
“My sister has likely not eaten for some hours, my lord, and you can see she is pregnant.” I attempt a tone of humility for Maraya’s sake.
“You girls can take meals in Lord Menos’s cabin.”
“What of my husband, Polodos, my lord?” she asks.
“Because of the peculiar nature of your parentage, you cannot marry Steward Polodos. Neartos will keep him safe with my other clerks. If he proves useful, then I see no reason to toss him overboard in a weighted barrel.”
Maraya nods at Polodos, communication passing between them in wordless signals they must have perfected in the early months of their illicit courtship, right under our father’s nose. Then she blinks at me as a signal that we’ll find a way to speak later.
The boy leaps up to follow her out. “What do you know about magic, Doma Maraya? I am going to the Stone Desert to study to become a priest and learn magic.”
Maraya pauses to allow him to cross the threshold before her. Our gazes lock. She’s remembering the ruins buried beneath the tombs in the City of the Dead, just as I am: the sparks that brought Wenru back to life, the twisting shadows, the glowing pool. The smile that tilts up her mouth brings her as close to crowing as I have ever seen her. Against all expectation, she may have just been given a door that will open onto information about these mysteries.
I’m left behind with Gargaron, who takes another sip of wine.
“And there is a fourth sister, who I never met. What became of her, Jessamy?”
“She’s dead,” I say in a leaden voice, although a part of me wants to rub in his face that he met Bettany and never guessed.
“And the child your mother was pregnant with?”
“Twins, my lord. A boy and a girl.”
“A relief for General Esladas, I am sure, since the sages argue whether a man who cannot sire a son can call himself a man.”
“If Lord Menos is destined for the priesthood, then he must not be your eldest son.” I am seeing how these Rings turn, how Gargaron intends to keep control of the kingdom even as other people carry the royal titles.
“He is my third son. A dutiful and intelligent boy.”
“Ah.”
“Ah? Is there some wit or wisdom you wish to share with me?”
“You will have the king and queen appoint him as High Priest once he is a little older, while meanwhile you hold the current High Priest in your pocket. So the temples will remain under your control for a very long time.”
Under his control. Never under Kal’s.
“Very good, Jessamy. You understand me exactly. It’s why you are such an exceptionally promising adversary.”
Of course Gargaron’s game to place his niece and nephew on the throne has been rigged from the start. Why did I ever believe Kal would have a chance to make genuine reforms? Ro would tell me I was being willfully na?ve, and poets always tell the truth.
Weeks later I am standing at the prow with the spray in my face as the sun rises. We have sailed north along the coast for day after day after day. A wide bay opens before us with a tabletop mountain rising behind it as in judgment. The choppy gray-blue of the open sea shades into a sapphire brilliance in the semicircular bay. But that is not what rivets my attention.
Maldine Harbor is filled with war galleys flying the kestrel of West Saro. They are imposing with their tiered banks of oars and their fierce bronze-sheathed battering rams visible just below the water. But are they here to invade? Or has Kal’s uncle Thynos made the marriage alliance Kal told me about?
The prows of the warships have eyes that seem to follow us as our sails come down. Oared boats cast lines and tow us in.
Maldine is a town built of stone the same color as the pale rock of the bare mountainside behind it. A strip of green runs along the bay and widens where a valley with orchards and villages works a gouge in the landscape. Somewhere in this area, half a year ago, my father beat back an invasion of the East Saroese alliance. Everyone thought we had won, but of course now we know it was only a preliminary attack. Just as Gargaron has carefully laid his plans over many years, so too surely have the kings of old Saro readied their fleets and armies and their covert alliance with Nikonos.
Gargaron joins me at the railing, accompanied by his son. To my astonishment, a crow perches delicately on Menos’s forearm. A tiny tube is fastened to its leg.
“Look, Spider!” says the boy in a hoarse, excited whisper. “This is the first time I’ve been allowed to release a messenger crow!”
He sweeps up his arm and the crow flies off, headed for the town.
“I wish I could be a crow priest,” he adds. “Then I would have crows of my own.”
“The High Priest must have his eyes, Menos,” says Gargaron, “so you will undergo a different sort of trial.”
“Will I learn the sacred magic of the priests?”
Gargaron shakes his head. “These are matters not to be spoken of outside the sanctuary of Lord Judge Inkos. Now go get the royal messenger pigeon.”
“Will it really fly all the way to Saryenia, to Cousin Kal?”
“It will. You may release it as a reward for doing so well at your lessons.”
The boy manages a courteous leave-taking before scampering back to the afterdeck.
“I wondered why we were sailing into a harbor filled with enemy ships,” I remark. “That crow must have brought a message from Princess Berenise that all is secure. I didn’t see it fly in.”
“It arrived at dawn before we came in view of the harbor. Now, Jessamy, be aware that you will be on display at every moment, and always within earshot of me or Captain Neartos. Your sister and Polodos will remain on this ship under guard. The penalty will fall on them if you do not play your part.”
“What exactly is my part, my lord? You could keep me on the ship with Maraya.”
“But you would like that. So therefore you must accompany me and act as an obedient adversary.”