The Crimson Crown. Cinda Williams Chima

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СКАЧАТЬ Renaming.

      “I’m looking for Marisa Pines market,” the boy Gavan said. “Am I close?”

      Watersong nodded. “Very close.” She turned to point. “It’s just down this—”

      “I understand they buy metalwork there,” he interrupted, gripping her arm.

      “They mostly sell,” Watersong said, pulling free and taking a step back. She was suddenly aware of being alone in the woods with a boy. It had never bothered her before. “Demonai work, especially. Though they will buy if the price is right.”

      “Would you … would you look at something and tell me if you think it would sell?” The boy seemed edgy; nervous, even.

      Well. He’d said he was new. Relaxing a bit, Watersong nodded.

      The trader pulled out a small pouch and emptied it onto Watersong’s palm. Out fell a massive gold ring, engraved with two falcons, back to back, their claws extended. She felt the tingle of magic in metal.

      “It’s flashcraft?” Watersong asked.

      The boy nodded. “Very old. Copp—clan made.”

      “You’ll probably get a good price for it, then,” Watersong said, and tried to hand it back. “I can show you the way to—”

      “Try it on,” the trader urged. “I’m wondering if it’s too heavy for a woman.”

      “All right,” Watersong said, sliding it onto her forefinger. “But you’ll really need to speak with … with—” Her voice trailed off as her mind clouded, and her body refused to obey her commands.

      “Now, then,” the trader said, gripping her arms and forcing her to the ground. “Let’s see what’s underneath all this deerskin.” His voice had changed, running into her ears like melted ice. Even his form changed, sharpened, so that now she could see the arrogant planes of his face, the cruel cast to his mouth.

      Jinxflinger, she wanted to say, but couldn’t.

      Skips Stones stirred on her low bed. Willo stroked her forehead, soothing her, and she drifted back into sleep.

      It had grown dark inside the lodge, as if a shadow of evil had fallen over them, though Han knew it was only evening coming on. Dancer kindled the lamps next to the sleeping bench, and they settled back for the finish of the story.

      “He tried to kill me, after,” Willo said. “But the Demonai arrived, and he had to flee. When he yanked his ring from my finger, I drew my belt dagger and slashed his hand.” She demonstrated, drawing her fingers across her palm. “He dropped the ring and fled.”

      “The Demonai never found him?” Han said.

      Willo shook her head. “Despite their famous tracking skills, they lost him almost immediately, as if he had been swallowed up by the earth. I assumed he used wizardry to escape. I never told the Demonai that my attacker was a wizard. I never showed them the ring. I hoped to put it behind me, to find a way to forget.

      “When I found out I was expecting his child, I considered killing myself. But I refused to finish the work that that snake of a wizard had begun.” She smiled at Dancer. “And then, after you were born, I realized how lucky I was to have you. I prayed, though, that you would not be gifted, because I knew you would have no place in the world.”

      “Did you know who Bayar was?” Han asked, his voice low and hoarse. “That he was the High Wizard?”

      Willo shook her head. “He wasn’t at the time. I didn’t know any wizards, anyway. Several years later, after I became matriarch, I attended a wedding down in the city. When I spotted Bayar across a ballroom, my heart nearly stopped. He’d just been chosen High Wizard. I knew he might recognize me too, and ask questions and put it all together.”

      Willo extended her legs, her moccasins poking out from under her skirt. “And so I left. It was either that or stab him to death on the spot.” She looked up. “Now I wish I had. Because, ever since that day, I’ve questioned my own judgment. I’d thought I was safe on Hanalea. I thought I could walk out alone and not have to look over my shoulder.

      “After, I felt vulnerable. I felt like it was somehow my fault. And because I avoided him, he grew ever more powerful in my mind.” She pressed her fist against her chest. “Inside, I felt that if I exposed him, he would find a way to make me pay for it—through Fire Dancer.”

      “That’s why you didn’t go to the queen’s memorial service,” Han said.

      Willo nodded, then tilted her head, studying his face. “You look disappointed, Hunts Alone. You’re thinking I should have confronted him. You think I should have killed him.”

      “No. That’s not it.” Han struggled to put his thoughts into words. “I just … it seems like Bayar should’ve been called to account a long time ago. There’s never any consequences for what he does. He killed Mam and Mari, and what have I done?” He hesitated, but he had to ask the question. “Why are you so convinced that Bayar would murder Dancer if he knew? Lots of bluebloods have byblow offspring.”

      “It’s not that Fire Dancer is a chance child. Among the Spirit clans, every child is a blessing. Even in the Vale, they don’t make a legal distinction between chance children and issue of a marriage.”

      As if unable to sit with her hands idle, Willow lifted her beadwork back onto her lap. “The Bayars have always stressed the importance of pristine bloodlines. They trace their lineage to the families that invaded from the Northern Islands. They’ve been careful never to taint their line by intermarrying—not even with down-realms folk. Queens, Valefolk, and other wizards—those are the only ones suitable, in their view.

      “More important, congress between the wizards and the Spirit clans has been strictly forbidden by the Wizard Council and the assembly since the invasion. The notion of a mixed-blood with the gift of high magic is terrifying to them. It throws this whole tenuous house of cards we call the Fells into jeopardy. Lord Bayar has been one of the most rigorous enforcers of the ban. As High Wizard, he has severely disciplined wizards for breaking this rule.”

      “Yet they are eager to marry their only son off to a mixed-blood,” Han said, thinking of Raisa.

      “A sacrifice,” Willo said. “But worth it if they can regain the throne. The Bayars were scandalized when Queen Marianna married Lightfoot. It was the first such intermarriage since the invasion. It makes their skin crawl, the notion that the Gray Wolf line has been contaminated.”

      Han had never in his life spent so much time talking about bloodlines. Bloodlines were never an issue in Ragmarket.

      “So. The Bayars want to prevent further adulteration of a line they mean to marry into,” Willo went on. “I think that may have fueled their current obsession with marrying in themselves. It’s either that or do away with the Gray Wolf line entirely.”

      Which is what Fiona favors, Han thought. “So if it’s found out that Lord Bayar fathered a child with a copperhead, he’ll be viewed as a hypocrite at best.”

      Willo nodded. “At best. At worst, he’ll be seen as a traitor to his kind. He may see his allies fall away. It may convince his rivals that he is vulnerable to attack.”

      Han’s СКАЧАТЬ