Chapter 26: The Wrong Side of Revenge
One winter day, when I was nearly ten, my mother had made more stew than we could eat, so I was sent to old Hunna who did not have much silver or livelihood, to give her a warm meal. Hunna smelled sour, like our old mutt had before he died, and her fingernails were long and yellow, but she had illustrated storybooks which we read together. By the time I left her cottage, it was already dark.
I passed by the tavern, yellow light spilling onto the snow. And there, outside, in the glow of the lanterns, was a man and a woman. The woman wasn't young, but her belly was heavy and round with a baby. And the man wobbled in front of her. He was her husband, and she was his wife. He was yelling at her, calling her names that mamma wouldn't approve of. I covered my ears, so I could tell her that I didn't listen.
But then, just as I was passing them, the man hit the woman. He swung his whole body into his arm, and then the slap echoed like a clamp of thunder through the street and she crashed into the snow.
I froze on the spot, and he looked right into my eyes and snarled, "What do you think you're looking at, you little brat?" His speech slurred, and his eyes were unfocused.
"If you hit the mamma with the baby inside, you'll hurt the little baby," I said, curling my hands into fists. "You mustn't hurt the little baby. Babies are precious, see? They don't all survive."
"Baby..." he drawled stupidly. "The whore's been out with other men. It's no baby of mine!"
He stepped towards me, feet crunching in the snow.
I sensed the danger, but my mind was on a single track, and I couldn't stop explaining to this stranger why babies had to be kept safe. "I had three little brothers, see? But now I have none. And mamma cried and cried each time a baby died. You mustn't hurt a baby. You mustn't—"
He swung his arm at me, and I slunk out of the way, just like when Marin and I played that game with the rope that could come at your feet and at your head and you lost when it touched you. I narrowly missed a patch of ice on the road, managing only just to hop over it.
But the man didn't see the ice, and he slipped on it, crashing face first into the trunk of a grand oak tree. Once he was down, he couldn't pick himself up. It was as if his limbs wouldn't work. When he turned himself round, I could see dark blood spilling from his nose and mouth. "Look at what you done!" he bellowed. "You little bitch. Me tooth is broken. Little ugly bitch."
"Serves you right for tryin'ta hit children," said the woman, his wife, who had gotten to her feet and stood by me, hands on her hips. She patted me on the head, ignoring her husband who flailed on the ground like a dying fish. "Thank you, little miss. But you best run along now to your mamma. Be a good girl, won't you?"
"But...What's the matter with him? Is he ill?"
"When men take their wine more seriously than their life," she told me, "they become like this. You'll see. He'll be in his right mind again tomorrow, and apologise, then have his wine again because it hurts him to stop. But I won't come to collect him then. Let him sleep in the snow and freeze, for all I care."
I ran home, and told my mother what had happened.
"Does wine make men hit people?" I asked.
"It often does," she replied. "Wine brings forth our darkest impulses."
I burst into tears, and when mamma asked me why I was crying, I didn't have the answer.
But the answer came to me over time. The man drunk on wine haunted my dreams. Papà told me that wine created merriment, but what I had seen had looked like an illness. The wine that I was to inherit, the beautiful crimson, it was a phantom that ran inside men.
Everything from that moment onward began falling apart. The life I grew into became a mask that had been crafted for someone else's face.
A year and some months later, I stole a purse of coins from my parents and ran to the mask-maker, lying to her that I came with my family's consent.
She saw through my lies. Shana always saw through my lies. She didn't agree to take me then, even when I begged.
But later, when my father brought me to her despite the hurt I had inflicted on his heart, she agreed.
***
I was never so far from myself as I was that night. The spectre that had come for the sleeping Lord Tuvia visited my dreams. It had felt intimate, watching death happen and knowing I was the cause. It came, passed through him, he sighed one last time and that was all. It was done, gently, heartbreakingly.
The spectre spun to face me after. I wondered if it saw me. If it knew that I had done this. I watched it fade away.
"You're having a troubled sleep." Waryn was at the foot of my bed. He looked ragged with his curly hair sticking up in every odd angle and a green tinge to his skin. The wine he drank yesterday couldn't agree with him this morning. He was only wearing his silk inner mask, a pair of black slacks and a loose black tunic. Were those his sleep clothes?
My muscles ached when I slid out of the bed, walking to the vanity, I picked up my own inner mask, and without thinking, wrestled out of the sleep cap to put it on.
Waryn made a noise as if something was strangling him. I looked at him even before putting on my mask, with my face completely bare. I smirked when I realised how shaken he was.
I made a show of slowly putting my mask on, enjoying how apprehensively he watched the air in the room begin to haze.
"Do you... always change your mask like that?"
"They're not fast, you know," I said. With my mask in place, I went to the water basin to wash my teeth and face. "It's an unnecessary precaution."
"It's an unnecessary risk."
My mouth was filled with the salty tooth-cleaning paste. I couldn't speak as I worked it over my teeth. He waited for me to rinse my mouth. "Speaking of unnecessary risks..." he began.
"How was last night? Did you and Afali...?"
"Don't change the subject," he snapped.
"You didn't? But I had her all—"
"Something was odd about her last night."
"Was there?" He thought he could get answers, but there were no tricks he could pull that I didn't see through.
"She sat in my room and wept for hours. What's going on with her, Dylana?"
"How should I know? She seemed normal to me."
"Has this got anything to do with Lord Ulumie?"
"That man who died? I never knew he existed until yesterday."
"Don't lie to me!" he suddenly barked, blue eyes flashing, hands rolled into fists. "Or at least try to lie better."
Such a silly thing, to lose control in my presence, and yet he was perpetually beautiful like this. Watching him unravel was like watching gold melt. But what was the source of his anger? Such a shame I was all the way across the room and couldn't dig my nails into the back of his neck.
I began to slowly make my way towards him as I pulled out the pins that were in my hair since yesterday. It fell down around my face, dark lock after lock. "What's frustrating you, Waryn?"
"Did you make any progress with Mica at least?"
"I'm to go snow sliding with him today, just the two of us."
"Good," Waryn said sullenly. "Make sure there aren't any...accidents."
I had so much practice yesterday, there wasn't even the slightest bit of hesitation when I slide my hands around his wait and angled my head up to look into his face. "What's troubling you? You can tell me."
"You're troubling me." He held my shoulders, but there wasn't any warmth in his gaze. "You're like a sword, you have no remorse. It's terrifying."
"No. It's the other way around." I wasn't terrifying. I was terrified.
Admitting fear wasn't admitting weakness. I told myself this as I drew closer and let my head fall to his shoulder. And if I trembled uncontrollably when he held me? It was only an act. I was only trying to make it difficult for him to resist me.
It was only an act, when I cried bitterly into his tunic. I'm sure it was only an act.
Because I was so empty, that my own tears weren't being wept by me.
***
"You were right, Mica does handle a lot of the governing of Bestoria," I said, my words coming up in white steam as we hurried up the stairs towards the clearing by the ice rink. Afali hadn't left her room all day, and had asked to be alone. We had been invited to an exclusive gathering at the edge of the Masca Delen. Waryn and I were late, but at least the deserted path, with clear vision in each direction, allowed us the privacy of conversation.
"What did you find out?"
"So far, I have information about some of the army logistics. He didn't admit it outright, but whatever side he's on, he's preparing for a campaign." Most of my time with Mica was spent kissing. Thankfully, he hadn't taken me to his bed yet and when he tired of kissing, his mouth worked ceaselessly. He wanted to convince me that his was the hand I should take. He wanted a share of the Tvereman wealth.
So he boasted his power, and I gently guided him to say more and more. I couldn't allow myself to become conceited, though. I had to work him carefully.
Waryn stopped climbing and held my arm. I paused a few steps above him. "The fact that he's preparing is useful information," he said. "Do you have a way to obtain more?"
"He spoke of constantly about receiving messages from home in his room. I'll have to..." My voice trailed away.
Waryn took a step up. Whatever had happened to me this morning, if it had been an act, it worked. He was enthralled—at least, that's what it looked like. "You don't want to, Yael, you don't have to."
"Waryn," I warned him. Whenever he used my real name, it was when he was weak for me. "Don't pretend like you care, now, after everything."
"It's just unnecessary for you to sleep with him."
"Stop changing your tune all the time. After yelling at me for lying badly, you're—"
"I'm being practical. It obviously bothers you and you're skilled enough to do it without... compromising yourself. If you keep pushing yourself, you'll—"
I didn't want him to speak that way. I didn't want him to sound so sincere. His new game was frightfully powerful. It reached into me and, annoyingly enough, there was still something there that could be touched. This wretched warmth, I didn't need it.
So I kissed him, hungrily. His mouth tasted sweet, like he had eaten grapes not long ago. Grapes in winter?
I was rattled by the exact firmness of his lips, and the way his palms eased over the sides of my body until he locked his arms around my waist.
Once it started, it couldn't be stopped. We were trapped in each other. He was ravenous and I was losing my bearings. He barely let me breath. I couldn't let him stop. It was freedom at first, and then it became more than I could bear. There was no reigning in this desire. It was out of my power.
My chest ached with the racing of my heart, with my desire for him.
A footstep tapping on a stair, and we tore away from each other with as much force as we had connected, each one of us almost falling from the side of the mountain.
Leah stood on the path below, glaring up at us. The moonlight lit her up in her bright pink and beige fur-lined cloak. She didn't say a word and just continued walking up the stairs, hands in her pockets. When she passed us, I moved out of her way, but she purposefully banged her shoulder against Waryn's.
Everything she thought about what she had just witnessed was clearly portrayed on her face.
***
The fire crackled, shooting glowing sparks into the night air when a sandalwood log was thrown in. Soon, the sandalwood's fermented earthy musk was the only thing I could smell. The gathering mostly consisted of lords and ladies of the Fel, from lesser branches. There was a group who wore masks of black jaguars called the Westyle family, and the Hatul family, who all wore masks of fluffy house cats. I saw lynx masks and spotted cheetah masks and also what I assumed was cougars.
But more than anything, all around, I was in the company of lions and tigers.
They were sipping beer and mulled wine and talking amongst themselves in little groups. I was an outsider and no one here had any interest in the Accipitri, in Tvereman, in a Lady named Dylana. I was below them, not much different from a servant.
It was a perfect position to obtain knowledge. I had worn a dress that was almost black, and with my cloak pulled up over my head, I was as noticeable as a shadow. My ears picked up more private conversations that night than during any event before.
"She's losing her grip," said a tiger-masked lady among a group of admiring house cats. They sat by the fire with furs thrown over them, clutching steaming mugs of apple cider.
"You think so?" mewled one of the Hatul ladies. "But Lady Liora, she's so fearsome."
"Just look at her financing decisions. How could the Eloroan pass her last quarter? She's losing control. Our whole house is in decline because of her."
Lady Liora was the head of the Somaer family. She was the strongest woman in all of Vynam. Her only competition was Lord Dolev head of the Eloroan. No matter how strong Lord Dolev became, though, he could never surpass the kind of awe that Lady Liora invoked. Some said she was the unofficial high queen of Vynam.
I could see why at least Liora wouldn't want the current status quo to change.
I could guess who had started these damaging rumours about Lady Liora Somaer. It was easy to plant doubt about her, she was a woman, after all. Women always had a weaker claim to inheritance. If there were brothers, old enough and strong enough, they always had the right to challenge a woman's right.
Afali targeted Waryn for her husband and no other Lord because of this. With Eloroan backing her, even if her small brother grew to be a strong man, he could never outbid her claim. He would govern Velamia in her name, but her firstborn would rule Lamoni as the Eloroan heir, and her second child would be destined to be the next leader of Velamia.
That could happen only if Waryn would spend a night with Afali. His words from a moment ago still resonated in my thoughts. Maybe all he wanted was for me to tell him that he didn't have to go to bed with her.
But I was Afali's ward. If he lost her, he lost me too.
I saw him from behind the bonfire, sitting secluded with Leah. They had their heads together, conducting a whispered conversation.
Leah was talking rapidly, and Waryn had his lips pressed together. He shot a few quick words at her.
They looked like they were having a disagreement.
It probably had something to do with me.
"Spying?"
Nava was standing behind me. I didn't look away from Leah and Waryn. "Isn't that what I'm here for?"
"I think you're here to serve yourself." She stepped in front of me. "Like all of us."
"What's Leah's relationship with Waryn?"
"They're friends. Best friends. When Waryn returned from Desmelas a broken boy, Leah was the only one who helped him heal."
"I don't think you people know the concept of friendship."
"You paint us all in the colours you know, Dylana. But did you ever have any friends?"
No.
I didn't.
Marin had friends, scores of them. They'd sit gossiping together around Thalmina's central well, giggling like old biddies. I used to be close with Charti and Lian, Mariala's twin boys, until I grew breasts and Lian said he fancied me and Charti was jealous. I was busy with my apprenticeship, I didn't have time for the tension of their company anymore.
I befriended the village hermit, Pyren, instead. Even though he was never my friend. I was only an oddity to him, someone who would listen to his ideas.
"Spiders have no real friends," I said.
"Waryn isn't a spider. He'd like to be one, but he's not. Spy-masters can't ever be their own masters. They serve a lord, and who could Waryn serve?"
I stared at Nava, and Nava watched me, when I looked back at Waryn and Leah, they were both gone. I sighed. Nava had been sent to distract me.
"If Waryn isn't a spider, how does he..." I searched for the word. The truth was, I knew very little about how spy networks even worked.
"How does he operate you? That's what he is to you, your operator. Nothing more, Dylana, are you listening? Nothing more."
"I'm not delusional."
"He might be."
"That's his own problem."
Nava's suggestion that Waryn would see me as anything but a tool was an absurd ploy.
"You're different from other spies in his network," Nava said. "Your position is unique. You're supposedly a high ranking noble, who, despite currently being a ward, holds attractive prospects for marriage. There are things that nobles say to each other that would never be said to servants. Haven't you noticed that there aren't any here, in this gathering?"
If I gave too much attention to servants, I would raise suspicion. I learned to notice them enough to be careful of them, but at the same time, treat them like they were hardly there. I missed the fact that no one was serving the drinks to the lords and ladies. My ability to observe was growing dull.
"Some low ranking nobles could be good spies, some of them could be bad spies, but none are like you."
"My position is temporary, it's only a question of time before—"
A man running up to the bonfire from the path below caught my attention. He was a servant, but behaving in a very loud fashion. He was wearing a black mask embroidered with the gold lion sigil, and the black and gold suit of the Eloroan servants. "Go find Waryn," Nava said, rushing towards the servant.
It was as if she knew how quickly I could find him.
I would always be able to find him. He would simply be in the first place I looked. It was just the kind of luck I had with him.
"It will go according to plan, Leah," Waryn's voice whispered through the bushes. I pushed forward. "We'll steal it from under their noses."
"Only make promises you could keep. I'm treating this whole thing as a failure until—"
I came face to face with Leah, who rolled her eyes to look at Waryn.
"Something's happened," I said.
***
We rushed down the stairs. The cold air stinging my face. In the Eloroan's house there was a commotion. Servants were running up and down the corridors, people were shouting. The nearer we came to Afali's room, the more crowded it was.
"Move aside," Waryn called. "Let me through."
I followed close behind him and Leah, past the stricken crowd of lords and servants.
"Oh gods."
It was Leah who said those words. She didn't sound like himself. She was stuck in the doorway of Afali's room. I pushed past her, past Waryn.
Afali lay on a bed of white and red. I could smell the blood that had already begun to dry. She was without a mask, but in the place of one of her eyes was a red chasm that matched her gaping mouth.
Her belly had been slashed open from the ribs to below her navel, and on her chest, a small, rounded flesh-coloured object had been placed.
I could not understand what it was—at first.
I took a step back, my stomach twisting over itself. The stretch was unbearable. I gagged.
An eye for an eye. Was this a retaliation? How could it be so soon?
This was my fault. I shouldn't have been so arrogant and stayed by Lord Ulumie's body. Nothing was solved by my deed.
Ten-year-old me was screaming at the drunk man who hit his wife. Screaming, screaming inside my head. Telling me what I should've known, how I should've given Afali her revenge.
Death brings more death. Revenge will birth revenge, unless I could be more clever. Unless my cunning locked my enemies' options away.
But it was too late now. Everything was too late.
I shut my eyes. I couldn't look.
I stepped back again, until my back met something...someone.
I looked up at Waryn's face. At the accusation written in his eyes.
This was my fault.
And he knew.