49 Calay

Although the criers in Calay described the queen's meeting with her fiancé Jenirod as a spectacular event, with a marvelous horse show and feast, Mateo immediately sensed that he was not hearing the whole story. Anjine had cut her trip to Erietta short, and her attendants made excuses. Mateo was concerned for her.

When she summoned him for a private meeting in the castle, ostensibly to discuss military matters, he was very eager to see her. With a formal bow, Mateo presented himself at the door to the queen's private sunlit office. Anjine rose quickly to her feet, and her face lit up. “It's so good to see you! I wish you had come along with me to Erietta.”

Most people wouldn't have noticed it, but he heard the tinge of sadness in her voice. “I didn't think you'd want me there, or I would have volunteered.”

“Of course I wanted you, Mateo!” She suddenly looked like a shy little girl. “Or can I still call you Tycho?”

He reacted with a comical wince. “We're well beyond childhood nicknames, Anjine. I can't very well call you Queen Tolli, now can I? What would the other nobles think? From now on, Tycho is just the cat I gave you.”

The feline Tycho sprawled atop documents on the table, centered in a skewed rectangle of sunlight that poured in through the window. The cat was oblivious to politics or conversation, though he did expect to be petted.

“So… you met Jenirod? The betrothal ceremony went well?” Mateo forced a light tone into his voice, though he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer. “Do you approve of him as your future husband?”

“My father made his choice quite clear. As I said, I wish you'd been there.” Anjine brushed the matter aside, clearly not wanting to talk about it, and Mateo could not ask why. Her demeanor changed, and she got down to business. “Now then, I read your report on rooting out the ra'virs among our soldiers. Excellent work. Bring me up to date.”

Mateo took a seat, pulling together his formal manner as a military officer instead of a friend. “With Tira's help, we discovered and arrested six more ra'virs, but I believe word has spread about the ruse. They may suspect that some former ra'vir is helping us. Now it's even more difficult to find them.”

Anjine paced the room, edgy and angry. “Damn them all! They are vipers in our beds. No, they're worse—who can hate a snake? It is what it is. But I hate these Urecari, Mateo. I hate everything they stand for. I wish Ondun would just strike them all dead with a bolt of lightning.” She slumped into a chair and put her head in her hands, obviously disturbed by more than she was saying.

He wanted to put his arms around her to comfort her, but knew that would not be appropriate. She managed to mount an unconvincing smile on her face. “Enough of that. It's been such a long time since I've seen you, Mateo. Cheer me up—you've always known how to do that. Tell me good news. Surely something exciting has happened in your life while I've been gone?”

Mateo wondered if she had already heard his news. He felt a sudden twinge of guilt, but he wanted to be the one to tell her. “Did… uh, you ever meet Vicka Sonnen, the daughter of Ammur Sonnen?”

“The blacksmith?”

“Yes. I've come to know Vicka rather well. She's intelligent, beautiful—” He began to blush, and Anjine laughed.

“Why, you're sweet on her!”

“I… asked her to marry me, and she accepted.”

Anjine's grin froze suddenly, and her surprised silence lasted a second longer than it should have. “Why, Mateo, congratulations! I'm so happy for you.” She hurried to give him a chaste, sisterly embrace that he found very awkward. “You must bring her to the castle. We'll have a banquet so I can get to know her better.” Anjine became a flurry of motion. “This isn't something we can take lightly. I insist that you be married in the main kirk. Prester-Marshall Rudio himself will officiate.”

Mateo was deeply embarrassed. “That's too much, Anjine… my Queen. Just a simple ceremony is—”

She cut him off. “Simple is not good enough for my friend Mateo. This wedding is what I can give you, and I insist.”

Mateo felt a pang as he watched her working particularly hard to make him happy, because it was all too clear that she was not happy.

The royal cog prepared to sail with an enthusiastic Prince Tomas. For days now, the boy had done nothing but talk about his goodwill voyage. Regardless of what had happened in Erietta, the queen insisted on going forward with her plans for marriage, and Tomas would appear at all the seaside villages.

Banners flew from the ship, showing off the colors of all five reaches; a larger flag displayed the Aidenist fishhook. Already on deck, Obertas and his ten royal guardsmen wore their best uniforms and brightest polished armor. The guard-marshall's hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, slicked with pomade, and tied with a thin green ribbon.

Mateo, whom Anjine had selected as her formal escort for the event, now walked stiffly with her and the prince down the dock, up the boarding plank, and onto the deck of the royal cog. Tomas's blond hair caught the wind. Despite the early summer warmth, he wore a heavy red velvet cape lined with spotted Iborian ermine, a gift from Destrar Broeck.

Once they stood on the deck together, Anjine faced the gathered crowd and held her young brother by the shoulders. Standing at attention beside her, Mateo recalled how the two of them had sailed with King Korastine down to Ishalem for the signing of the Edict, when they were just a bit older than Tomas. His throat went dry as he thought of how many tragedies had flowed from that well-meaning visit….

Anjine, for the moment, seemed unhaunted by memories. She smiled down at her little brother, spoke gently to him. “You represent Tierra on this voyage, Tomas. On my behalf, spread our goodwill from village to village. Let the people know that their queen remembers them.”

Tomas did a masterful job of controlling his excitement over the pending voyage. He nodded with comical solemnity. “I won't forget. I'm the prince. I'll make all of Tierra proud of me.”

“All of Tierra already is proud of you—and so am I.”

After presenting his guards, Obertas removed his hat and bowed to the queen. “He shall be safe with us, Majesty. I'll coach him on his speeches during the voyage south. Tomas is a fine prince.”

Before they could walk down the ramp, Mateo asked her quietly, “Would you like me to go along as well, Anjine? To help protect him? In times like these, one can't be too cautious.”

Tears sparkled in her eyes. “No, Mateo. It would shame Marshall Obertas if he thought I was belittling his abilities.” She took her friend's arm in his capacity as her formal escort, and they left the ship with heads held high. The crowds cheered, and Mateo wondered why Jenirod himself hadn't come to Calay for the celebration.

Turning to watch as the cog's square sails were set and the ropes thrown off, Anjine added, “Besides, you can't always think of your duties, Mateo.” She forced a smile. “You have your own wedding preparations to attend to.”

After Prince Tomas had sailed away, Guard-Marshall Vorannen called upon Mateo with grim news. “I think she was a friend of yours, Subcomdar. We left her where she was, just in case…” He shrugged. “Well, I don't know why.”

Mateo felt ice in his stomach. “Who are you talking about?” Several possibilities came to mind, the first and most urgent of which was Vicka Sonnen.

“The redheaded one, the skinny girl who always came to pester you in the barracks.”

At first Mateo couldn't move, and then he was away from his desk and moving with a brisk stride. “Show me. What happened?”

Down in the smelly, green water of the Butchers' District, the gangly body floated up against one of the sluice docks where the slaughter yards dumped offal. Workers came to the harbor to empty their waste every evening, so Tira could not have been in the water longer than overnight, but the fish had already begun nibbling on her pale skin. Her mouth was open, as were her sightless eyes. Her red hair was matted with algae. Her throat had been slit in a grotesque grin, side to side.

As Mateo stared, Vorannen said, “Is there someone we should inform, sir? We don't know where she lives, or who her family is.”

“She had no family. No last name.”

“But how did you know her, sir?”

“She… helped the Tierran army.”

Vorannen accepted this with a nod. “It was likely a cutpurse… she wandered into the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Mateo shook his head. “No, this was no robbery, but I doubt we'll find who killed her.” He looked away from Tira's sad corpse. “Take the body and have her cleaned up. I want a nice funeral service with a prester. She should be buried in an Aidenist graveyard with a fine fishhook to mark her place. I'll pay for it all.” He looked down again and closed his eyes. “She's earned it.”