MESSAGES
Karigan watched as her father folded the letter from
Captain Mapstone, running his fingers over the crease again and
again, his expression grave. It seemed more lines were scribed into
his forehead and around the edges of his mouth than she remembered;
that more gray swept from his temples.
She didn’t know what
the captain wrote in that letter, besides the request for more
supplies. Obviously something that disturbed him, and she wondered
what it could possibly be, but protocol required she not ask—not
even her father. It was up to the recipient to decide whether or
not to speak of a message’s contents.
It had been quite a
while since Karigan last visited home. Except for her father
looking a little older, the rest seemed unchanged, including her
aunts. Well, maybe Aunt Tory had grayed a little more, too, but
everything in the kitchen was in its place, pots and pans hanging
where they’d always hung, the same old farm table of amber wood
beneath her hands, Cook at the sideboard. Nothing in her bedchamber
had been touched either, her old clothes were still hanging in the
wardrobe, a couple years removed from the latest fashions. If
anything, the house seemed just a little smaller, as if it had
shrunk the tiniest bit. Or she had grown.
Maybe I’m just used to the castle, she thought. Her
father’s house was large; the castle was rather
larger.
It was comforting to
be in the familiar confines of the home she grew up in, to be among
people she knew and loved; a completely different world from the
fast pace of Sacor City and the castle, where she was surrounded by
so many strangers.
At the same time,
she felt uneasy being home, even on official business, for there
were other matters she needed to address with her father. Matters
of a personal nature. He’d kept secrets from her, and not good
ones.
She twisted her
teacup in her hands, gazing at specks of tea leaves swirling in its
depths. Her aunts chattered on beside her, and she only
half-listened. She managed to put off coming home for months,
thanks to winter storms that kept everyone cooped up in the castle,
but suddenly Captain Mapstone needed the one message conveyed, and
it was time, she said, that Karigan’s father receive the others, as
well, and who better to bear them than his own
daughter?
Her father cleared
his throat and Karigan looked up. “You mentioned there were
messages,” he said. “More than
one?”
“Oh!” she replied,
and grimaced. She withdrew from her satchel the lesser of the two
that remained, and passed it to him. “From Lord
Coutre.”
“Lord Coutre?” he
asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise. Her aunts ceased their
chattering. He took the letter and broke the seal. He read rapidly,
and exclaimed, “Order of the Cormorant? You’ve been granted lands
in Coutre Province?” He read on, then gazed at her, his eyes wide
and full of questions.
Aunt Stace snatched
the letter right out of his hands and read it for herself. When she
finished, she was the mirror image of her brother. Aunt Brini
grabbed the letter next, and the others, including Cook, clustered
around her to read over her shoulder.
“You rescued Lady
Estora from abductors?” Stevic asked faintly.
“I, er, helped,” Karigan replied, her cheeks flooding with
warmth. The other reason she didn’t want to come home was having to
explain her deeds without causing them all to faint. Just
remembering the dangers she faced was enough to make her shudder.
When her father and
aunts recovered, they demanded details. Karigan kept her responses
vague: “I was on a message errand to Mirwellton—right place at the
right time.” And, “No, Lady Estora was not harmed.” She emphasized
the role others played in the rescue and left herself out of much
of the story.
She told them how
the traitorous group, Second Empire, used the abduction as a ruse
to distract the king and his Weapons so its members could
infiltrate the castle for “information.” She did not bring up the
book of Theanduris Silverwood, and in fact managed to avoid
referring to any supernatural or magical elements of the story
altogether, knowing her father’s dim view of such
things.
Nor did she speak of
her adventures in the royal tombs beneath the castle. The realm of
the tombs, while not precisely a secret, was not something casually
discussed.
Her explanations
appeared to satisfy them: evil plot, abduction, infiltration—all
thwarted, and Karigan helped! She was afraid, however, her third
message would only provoke more questions, and with a sigh she
withdrew it from her satchel. It bore the royal seal of the
firebrand and crescent moon. Her father stared in
disbelief.
“More? The king’s
seal?”
Karigan nodded,
waiting in a sort of dread while he read it.
When he finished, he
looked at her with a stunned expression, and passed the letter to
Aunt Stace without a word. Her aunts and Cook gasped as they read,
and gazed at Karigan as if seeing her anew.
Her father then
laughed. It was a mirthful laugh that filled the kitchen with
warmth. It wasn’t exactly the reaction Karigan was
expecting.
“I don’t think it’s
funny,” Aunt Tory said, with a sniff. “It’s a great honor to
Karigan and our clan.”
Stevic G’ladheon
continued to laugh, wiping tears from his eyes, and Karigan could
only shake her head in disbelief.
“Great honor, yes,”
he said. “I’ve always been so proud of my daughter, no matter what
odd course in life she chose. But never in all my existence would I
ever imagine a G’ladheon being knighted. Not only that, but it’s an
honor not conferred upon anyone for
hundreds of years.” Karigan’s father was not overly fond of the
aristocracy, and she had recognized the irony of the honor the
moment she received it. Not that knighthood exactly raised her to
the aristocracy, but still ...
“My daughter, Rider
Sir Karigan G’ladheon!” He grinned. Then sobering, he said,
“Karigan, I understand the Coutre award, but this is above and
beyond. What aren’t you telling us? Did you save the entire kingdom
again?”
Karigan squirmed in
her chair. “Well, Lady Estora is the
king’s betrothed ...” When she saw this wasn’t going to mollify
him, she added, “I helped stop the Second Empire thugs in the
castle. The king was very pleased.”
Her father sat back
in his chair. Wind gusted down the chimney, scattering ashes on the
hearth and causing the fire to flare. The juices of the roasting
goose hissed.
“That’s it? You’re
not going to tell us how? Is it a secret?”
She almost said,
Well, after I helped rescue Lady Estora, the
death god’s steed came to me and led me through the “white world,”
where we bypassed time and distance to reach the castle. I was then
made an honorary Weapon and got to wear black, so I’d be permitted
to enter the tombs without being forced to become a caretaker and
live out my life dusting the dead. I chased the thugs through the
royal tombs while pretending to be a ghost. I fought them and
rescued a magical book that may or may not help us repair the
breach in the D’Yer Wall. If it does, then we’re all
saved!
I then took a nap in the future sarcophagus of our future
queen because I was very tired and bleeding all over the place—oh,
did I mention almost having my hand chopped off earlier? But that’s
a whole different story! Anyway, I dreamed about the dead rising.
That’s what I remember, and is it surprising considering where I
was? When I woke up, the magic book gave us quite an
eyeful.
And that, she reflected, was not the half of it.
However, rather than reveal her true thoughts, she asked, almost
pleading, “Can’t you just be happy for me?”
“I am, I am!” he
replied. “I just worry, and you never say much about your
work.”
“She’s got another
land grant with the knighting,” Aunt Brini broke in, as she scoured
the king’s letter. “Anywhere in the realm.”
Karigan saw the
light flicker in her father’s eyes, the slight smile, as if he
calculated to what advantage he could use her land grants for the
clan business. It was a wonder he wasn’t rubbing his hands
together. The diversion, however, proved short-lived.
“Will you not tell
us how you inspired such notice from the king?” he
asked.
If only her father
knew how loaded a question that was, and how much she wanted to
pound her head on the table. “There’s not much to say about it.”
The lie rang hollow even to herself.
“I don’t believe it
for a minute,” her father said. “You are keeping things from
us.”
Karigan squirmed in
her chair. Why couldn’t he leave off? He certainly kept his own
share of secrets, so how dare he demand that she reveal her
own?
“Like how you never
bothered to tell me you crewed a pirate ship?” she
blurted.
Ominous silence
followed.
Oops, she thought. She hadn’t meant to broach the
subject so abruptly, but there it was now, right out in the open.
No preamble, no gentle prodding, no hiding.
Cook hastened to the
cutting board and her parsnips, and her aunts scattered, making
themselves busy elsewhere in the kitchen, but all within earshot
even as they pretended not to be listening.
“I planned to tell
you about that,” her father said after a few moments.
“When?”
“Well, I ... Soon. I
wanted to wait till you were old enough.”
“How old? Like when
I’m eighty?”
“No, of course not.
I—How did you find out?” He glanced at his sisters in accusation,
and they filled the kitchen with loud denials, waving spoons and
knives in emphasis.
Before someone got
hurt by an errant utensil, Karigan said, “You don’t realize how
close this information came to damaging the clan. The king
knows.”
That quieted
everyone down.
“What? How?”
“The Mirwells dug it
up, a crew list for a known pirate ship, the Gold Hunter. Timas—Lord Mirwell—sent it to the
king.”
“But why? Why would he?”
“I’m not sure,”
Karigan said. “Except Timas Mirwell hates me. He has since school,
and he probably decided to get back at me by trying to disgrace the
clan.” He’d given her the message to deliver to the king. She, of
course, had no idea of what she carried at the time. It was only
after the knighting ceremony that she learned of it from one of the
king’s advisors.
“Damnation,” her
father muttered. “Aristocrats.
Aristocrats and their games of intrigue.”
“We’re fortunate the
king thinks highly enough of your service to the realm that he’s
dropping the matter,” Karigan said. “But if Mirwell, or someone
else, decides to make public accusations, it could be embarrassing.
I destroyed the crew list, but it could still look bad even without
the proof.”
“I see.” He shook
his head. “I’m sorry you learned about it this way. I should have
told you.”
“I wish you had,”
Karigan murmured.
“At least you know
now,” he said.
“Yes, but none of
the details.”
“It was a long time
ago.”
“Then you should
have no trouble telling me all about it now.”
He raised an
eyebrow. “I see knighthood has done little to gentle your tenacious
curiosity.”
“Father.”
“Tell me, in court
do they address you as Sir Karigan?
Shouldn’t it be Madam Karigan, or some such? Maybe Madam Sir
Karigan?”
“Father.” She might be tenacious in her curiosity,
but he was exasperating. “This is serious.”
“Yes, yes, of course
it is. Very well. I suppose there is no avoiding it.” He paused,
turning more reflective, his hands loosely clasped on the tabletop.
“As I said, the Gold Hunter was long
ago, and I was an ignorant young boy fresh off the island when
Captain Ifior’s men snatched me from a tavern and forced me into
service.”
“A press gang,”
Karigan murmured, a little mollified her father had been taken
against his will.
“I didn’t fight it,
I will admit.”
“What? Why
not?”
“I saw it as an
opportunity.”
“Opportunity? A
pirate ship?” Ignorant boy,
indeed.
“Now, now,” her
father said. “The Gold Hunter wasn’t a
pirate to begin with, but a privateer with letters of marque to
seize ships violating the blockade of the Under
Kingdoms.”
“How’d it become a
pirate?”
“The embargo was
lifted,” he replied, “and Captain Ifior decided to keep taking
ships. It was profitable.”
“No doubt.”
Karigan’s head throbbed, and she rubbed her temples. She was weary
from her long journey through the storm, and it was no easy thing
hearing from her father’s own mouth he’d been crew on a pirate
ship. All she knew of pirates was that they were unruly,
bloodthirsty cutthroats, and she did not want to believe he was of
that ilk, no matter how far distant in his past it may have
been.
“Kari—”
“So you stayed on
even after the captain turned to piracy,” she said.
“Yes. Captain Ifior
had a good head for business, and I learned much from
him.”
“Like how to steal?
And kill?” Karigan winced as soon as the words left her mouth. She
hadn’t meant to speak so brashly, but she needed to know. Needed to
know who her father really was.
He did not answer,
but sat there absolutely still, his expression stony and
white-edged. Karigan held her breath, bracing herself for the storm
that was certain to come, but he abruptly stood and left the
kitchen without a word.
His silence, Karigan
thought, was more terrible than any mere eruption of anger could
be.
One by one her aunts
turned to face her. Cook studiously ignored the scene, keeping busy
at the sideboard. Well, she’d done it this time—turned a reunion
with her family into a disaster.
“What?” she demanded
of her silent and forbidding aunts. “I have a right to
know.”
Aunt Stace’s mouth
turned to a grim line before she spoke. “Your father talks little
of the past, even to us, but we do know he was caught in
circumstances not of his devising.”
Karigan could relate
to that, but surely her father had more choice than she ever did
with the Rider call. “He could have run away when their ship made
port.”
“True,” Aunt Brini
said, “but he had his reasons for staying. You see, Captain Ifior
was more a father to him than our own was. His mentor and
guide.”
“Who taught him to
kill and steal.”
“Oh, child, you
can’t know—”
“I am not a child,” Karigan said. No, not after all she’d
experienced in her own life since becoming a Green Rider, but
they’d never understand, even if she told them every detail of her
exploits. No matter what she did with her life, they’d always see
her as their little niece, not mature enough to deal with more
adult matters, like her father’s past.
“I suppose you are
not,” said Aunt Stace, “but you are acting like one.”
Karigan’s mouth
dropped open.
“Only a child would
utter whatever came to her mind without thinking first. I should
have thought you learned better in the king’s
service.”
Karigan sat there
stunned that her aunts would take her father’s side in this. It
wasn’t her fault he’d been a pirate.
She pushed her chair
back and stood. She grabbed her message satchel and left the
kitchen, heading for the stairs. She took the steps two at a time,
and when she reached her bedchamber, she slammed the door shut
behind her.
If her aunts
couldn’t handle her asking about the pirate ship, just wait till
she brought up the brothel.