Buried Heart (Court of Fives #3)

In a dim garden, people are pacing through menageries. Beyond them rises an open-air dining hall, its roof raised on brick pillars. Six people are seated at a round table with a lamp set in the middle. Light softens their features, which is a good thing because none are smiling.

I’m so startled to see Inarsis that I put on a burst of speed, but am yanked to a halt by Dedu before I can charge in. The Honored Protector looks over and recognizes me. But he’s an Efean man, so I have to speak first, and of course I make a hash of it.

“General, what you doing here already?”

“I came into Saryenia with the vanguard.” He doesn’t invite me to sit. To his left sits an elderly Efean man and to his right an honored dame. The other three people at the table are Saroese. “Honored Dames and Sirs, this is Spider. She is General Esladas’s daughter.”

The first to speak is a Saroese man with a military bearing, a firebird badge, and a vaguely familiar face. “The general’s daughter and I have met.”

I make a polite reply in Saroese as I frantically try to remember him.

He takes pity on me. “I am Sergeant Leukos. You helped me negotiate for oil and naphtha during the retreat from Port Selene. Do you not recall it?”

“Oh. Of course! Are you here…” It’s hard to speak. What if I hear the answer I dread? “…on behalf of my father?”

“Yes.”

I sway, catching myself on one of the pillars. Relief hits me like weakness.

“He gathered his trusted firebird veterans and explained the situation to us. We voted to join him. The sergeants of the Firebird Guard elected me to act as our representative in negotiations because your father can’t risk coming here himself.”

I blink back tears, too choked up to do anything but nod in gratitude.

Next to him sits a haughty young man wearing the sun insignia of a priest who serves Seon, the Sun of Justice. I’m afraid to ask him any questions, and a holy Saroese priest doesn’t feel the need to speak to such as me.

But the Saroese woman has leaned forward to study me with lively interest. She is expensively dressed and carries herself with the effortless confidence of a person who has lived all her life with the expectation of wealth and privilege. Yet in the lineaments of her face I see she resembles Amaya in having skin a little too dark and hair a little too curly for a Patron woman. She smiles.

“So you are Doma Jessamy. My cousin Lady Petreia wrote to me about meeting you at Port Selene, with your father. I am Clan Petros’s representative here in Saryenia.”

“Clan Petros owns a merchant fleet,” I say, recalling how Father arranged for ships to transport the wounded out of Port Selene.

She nods at Inarsis. “We look forward to being given the monopoly on shipping grain to West Saro for the next five years. Do we not, General Inarsis? Honored Dame?”

“Indeed. Now if you will excuse me, Honored Dames and Sirs, I must briefly speak with Spider.”

He beckons me to a corner bench. We sit beneath the stars.

“Aren’t you putting yourself at risk to enter the city while we still could lose? Did you even get Mis’s message?”

“I did get it. But unless Lord Gargaron or one of Princess Berenise’s stewards sees me, I don’t fear being recognized. To most Saroese I’m not the infamous king-killer. I’m just another Commoner man.” His smile cuts with a wry humor. “It’s an impressive plan, Spider. But it needs some additional elements that you haven’t considered. Which is why I entered the city early, despite the risk.”

“I have new information for you too. But can you trust the Saroese you’re negotiating with?”

“The firebird veterans are loyal to the commander they trust, and we have made a particularly generous offer to Clan Petros, which they can’t benefit from unless we win.”

“A monopoly on shipping grain to West Saro?”

“Yes. And ownership of half of Princess Berenise’s merchant fleet.”

I whistle. “That will make them the most powerful shipping clan in Efea. And if you’re looking for Saroese who have skills we need and reason to be angry with the royal clan, then I suggest we speak to Lord Perikos, the Fives administrator. His son was killed for his spark to keep Prince Temnos alive. But I don’t understand why you have a priest here. Why would you even negotiate with those men?”

“There are Efeans who worship Seon and Hayiyin. Who are we to forbid them a sanctuary, as was done to our ancestors? There is no reason the temples of Seon and Hayiyin cannot bide quietly beside the rebuilt temples of the Mother of All.”

“Is it not an insult to the Mother?”

“If their belief is sincere, then why is it an insult?”

“Because the Saroese tore down our temples and built their own on top of them. Our people had no choice but to worship Saroese gods.”

“Shall we do the same in return? Is that how we should wield power? We cannot speak only with the tongue of vengefulness. We must also speak with the tongue of righteousness. Anyway, no one survives a trial like this without compromise. We benefit if we can convince some among the Saroese priestly establishment to support us. The young priest in question is of lowborn Patron stock, fiercely devoted to the ideal of justice, and well aware that his efforts for reform will always be blocked by his highborn superiors. We have offered to name him as High Priest, if we win.”

“When we win.”

“You never lack confidence, Spider. But can you trust Kalliarkos? Can you really, honestly trust him? Your plan relies on the cooperation of a young man who will lose everything when we win.”





28





Inarsis instructs me to stay in seclusion at the Jasmine Inn until we find out what choice the king has made, but of course I don’t. After I finish morning training, a girl at the inn helps me use cosmetics to paint my face, and I get my hair braided in a village style of old-fashioned knots. The result is spectacular: When I go down to look at the Clan Petros merchant ships being secured at the wharfs, a pair of Garon stewards escorted by soldiers emerge unexpectedly from a warehouse right in front of me. But they glance at my hair and walk past without recognition.

Moments later I hear the shout of a royal herald proclaiming from horseback that the king and queen have called for a five-day citywide festival that will culminate in victory games to honor their ascension to the throne. I actually have to turn aside and hide my face because I don’t know whether to shout with triumph or weep with relief.

Kal has done as I asked.

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