Sterling (21 page)

The signature took up half the page, a florid scrawl. I shoved the letter into my bodice, blinking away tears and pushing down panic. The letter must have come on the final post ship crossing the Parting Sea before Costas’s attacks began.

Was it too late?
How could I get to Vorisipor to prevent this disaster? For the past sennights, I had felt so helpless, trapped within the Manor, watching as men pushed us closer and closer to war. All along I’d known that Papa had made a treaty, which should have prevented an Imperial attack. I’d wondered whether I should call this to Costas’s attention, but I’d feared to do it, lest he simply brush it off as more of Papa’s treachery, lest he think my mention of it a sign of disloyalty. I’d had no evidence of the treaty. The only proof had been a letter that Serafina had burned before she set off on her mission of naval destruction for Papa.

All I had to do to prevent the war was go to Vorisipor to sign the treaty anew! I could save Shankar and so many men’s lives, but only if I moved fast; we were at the very brink of war at this moment.

I rode Sugar swiftly through the empty streets to the garrison.

Where was everyone?
The common
people should be swarming the markets, returning from work or doing errands, as they had been earlier in the day.

At the garrison no one stood on duty.

“Hello? Where are you? This is Lady Sterling Ricknagel.” My words bounced off the stone walls. “Hello?” I went up the first flight of stairs where I had met the commander earlier. Not even a manservant lingered there.

I tried the courtyards behind the main building. I checked the barracks, all empty. They looked unnaturally tidy. Curious, I opened a footlocker at the base of a cot and found it empty. They all were.

I searched training rooms, stables, and mess, and found not a single soul. I stood alone in the grassy circle where the Ricknagel banner snapped on the flagpole. The lone brown warrior figure on the blue field seemed an ominous symbol as the wind tore at the flag.

Reality dawned. No one—not a single soul—remained in the garrison to bring the flag down for the evening. The other three thousand soldiers, Shankar’s last protection, were gone, too. Costas had fully and utterly abandoned my city to our enemies.

S
nap
, snap.
The flag whipped in the wind, lonely and forlorn.

My mind raced. I didn’t have the resources to warn the common people of Shankar. I had no men, no one to take messages into the city, no one to plan or execute an evacuation, nothing. I was nearly as powerless and friendless as I’d been fleeing Engashta.

My only effective plan was to get to Vorisipor as fast as I could. My signature could end the war in a few strokes of ink. All fears had to be put aside. Lethemia needed me. My people needed me.

I rode Sugar back through Shankar, traveling ten blocks before I found another living soul—an old, wrinkled man loading a cart attached to a dilapidated donkey in front of an equally decrepit storefront.

I halted, but the man ignored me.

“Where is everyone?” I asked.

The man looked up through his white brows. “Didn’t you hear? We were ordered to evacuate starting at midnight last night—runners came knocking on every door. Everyone’s headed into the foothills along the Fosillen road. They’ve set up shelters.” He stared at my mark.

“Evacuate?” My voice trembled as my mind struggled to catch up with Costas’s plan. At least he’d given a thought for the people of Shankar and made provision for them. He’d made swift and efficient work of the evacuation, gauging by the empty city. Had I been paying more attention this morning, I might have seen that people were
leaving
in the bustle I had noticed. Later I would chew on why
I
hadn’t been notified of the evacuation.

“L—Lady Ricknagel?” the old man faltered.

“You have fallen behind,” I said. “Will you be all right?”

“I’m fine,” the old man said. “I’m leaving this moment. But why are you still here? You must leave at once.”

The overcast late afternoon sky pressed on my shoulders. My heart pounded my ribs.

“I have a job to do,” I said as I turned my horse.

I urged Sugar through Shankar’s cobbled streets. How had I missed people evacuating?
Upon reflection, when I’d ridden to the garrison that morning, the city
had
been abnormally busy, and the people I’d seen had looked as if they were set on long travels, loading carriages and horses. How stupid and ignorant of me to not recognize what I’d witnessed. And then Costas’s garrison commander had sent me home like an annoying child who couldn’t handle the truth!

Hooves clapping against cobblestones brought my head up. Erich swerved around the corner astride a chestnut gelding.

“Sterling,” he shouted as he pulled up hard on his reins. “Amatos, I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Costas left us a message at the house—the manservant only just delivered it, though we were meant to receive it last night. Everyone has been ordered to evacuate Shankar.”

I felt loosely strung, like a necklace with too few charms.

“We have little time.” Erich pulled to my side. “How is your riding? Can you go fast?”

I stared at Erich. Part of me wanted to stay in Shankar to protect it— but what could I do for the city here? The best help I could offer awaited me in Vorisipor. I had a treaty to sign. “I have to go down to the harbor,” I said distractedly.

“The harbor is a ghost-land without a ship in sight. Those that aren’t deployed in the Parting Sea have fled west. I was just there. The only way out of this city is on horseback or on foot. And you’re coming with me whether you like it or not.” Erich snatched my horse’s bridle. As always, he seemed to have a spare length of rope all too handy. Before he could get my mount tied to his, I grabbed my riding crop and smacked his hand.

“Ouch! Amatos, Sterling!”

“Do you have a ship nearby?” I demanded.

“A ship?”

“Costas requisitioned all of my father’s. I have no ships.”

“We can ride to Murana. I’m sure we could find a Talatan vessel there if you wish to travel by sea.” He shook his stung hand.

“To Murana, then.” I guided Sugar into line behind Erich’s mount. “As fast as we can.”

But Erich wouldn’t like my plan to go to Vorisipor, not at all.

We rode. After such a late start I couldn’t imagine continuing past the village of Anatyr, but Erich said, “If Costas’s plan fails, do you truly think the Imperial Army will be content with sacking an empty city? They’ll continue on the coastal road and take the outlying villages.”

We kept on through the dark, which suited my urgency. Erich lit a tiny road lantern and hung it from his saddle to help us see through the mists gathering on the coastal road. Nights and early mornings were notoriously overcast on Lethemia’s southern edge.

Our pace slowed in the dark, but we plodded on for hours. The air condensed around us, until every step we took ventured into the unknown. I could barely discern the angle of Erich’s back in front of me.

Something changed in the mists. The lantern doubled, then trebled. We entered a circle of light from a roadside inn.

Erich arranged for a room while I leaned against the lobby wall, drained and exhausted.

“You’re falling asleep on your feet.” Erich carried me into the room.

The bed had not been made up, but the linens sat folded on the mattress. Erich set me down and tried to make the bed.

“I remember when you did this for me in Avani.” He turned the sheets this way and that. “It can’t be that hard.”

Despite my exhaustion, I giggled as I took the sheets and fixed them.

“What on earth possessed you, Sterling?” he asked. “Becoming a chambermaid of all things!”

I stuffed the bed’s single pillow into a sack and fluffed it. “It seemed a good way to hide. I had no money. I had jewelry, but when I tried to sell it, the pawner took advantage of me.”

“But I told you to go to my house—”

“Erich Talata.” I put my hands on my hips. “Your family wanted to take me directly to Costas Galatien. I knew what you were up to even then.” I waved as though swatting a fly. “I’m exhausted.” I threw myself atop the bed and curled into a ball.

Erich removed his boots and took off his riding jacket, unbuttoned the top of his shirt, and flopped beside me.

“You can’t sleep on top of the covers.” He floated the blanket over us.

The lantern sputtered out, leaving us in total darkness but for the moon’s faint glow trickling through the window. An urge to turn towards Erich came over me. I wanted to wrap my arms around his back, but he didn’t like to be touched.

If he wants you,
he’ll turn to you.
Something niggled at my mind, something I had to face: Erich had wanted me because I was the only woman he’d met who did not experience pain at his touch and draw away in revulsion. That had something to do with magic. Ever since the magical earthquake, the Fall, as people were calling it, the sparking sensation had disappeared. Erich could touch anybody.
Anybody.
Why would he still want me?

I could not rest, not with his body beside me radiating warmth. Every time I closed my eyes, I imagined his lips on mine, the hot paths they’d traced across my body. I remembered the relief of losing myself in his possession, the pleasure of forgetting who I was.

The magnitude of the day hit me. I started to cry. The sun would be up in another hour or two, and we had to get an early start. I had to rest, but I couldn’t.

Erich threw an arm over my tense back and pulled me against his body, rearranging the blanket to fit us both snugly. His touch brought a small measure of relief.

He brushed away my tears. “Don’t cry, Sterling. Please don’t cry. Shhh,” he soothed. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

I had no words for the enormity of it. I shook with suppressed sobs: my mother, my sister, my father, my city, my terrifying obligation to go to Vorisipor.

“Sterling, sweetheart, what can I do? What do you need?”

I needed someone to love me so I didn’t feel so alone in the world, but that was too much to ask. “Hold me,” I whispered. “Just hold me.”

I
woke
to an acid burn in my throat and Erich jostling me. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know you’ve hardly slept, but if we start early we can make it to Murana tonight.”

Erich pulled the blanket away and leaned over me. I refused to meet his gaze. He kissed me on the cheek—my right cheek. I instantly recoiled, smacking my head against the bedside table.

Erich spread his palm across the area that had been hit. “Oh, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you all right?”

All right? I’d never be all right again.
I felt flayed, as if Erich had taken a knife to my skin, peeled it back, and exposed me.

“Don’t touch my face,” I hissed.

Erich stared at me. “I see,” he said. “Now I know why you understand me so well. You cannot bear to be touched, either.”

“You
don’t
understand! Look at you. You’re beautiful. Even if you were ugly, you’re a man, a rich, privileged man! The world would forgive you an ugly face. But I’m a woman. Our lives are wrapped up in our faces, our bodies, our looks. For my whole life, my only hope has been that I’d find a husband who might overlook my disfigurement, who might be willing to close his eyes for a lifetime. And that,” I said, throwing the covers off, “is a fantasy I gave up long ago.”

I yanked my hair into a chignon to prepare for the road again, though the last thing my body felt like doing was riding.

From behind me Erich said, “All my life, people have shunned me, Sterling. My servants, my friends, even my own family—my slightest touch caused them pain. I learned to hold myself back. When I discovered courtesans, I found there were women willing to take my money and give me a sense of belonging. But I always knew it was a lie. I always knew it wasn’t real. They wanted my money, not me. They
suffered
me.”

He lifted both hands and spread his elegant fingers wide. “When I found you didn’t mind my touch, I felt something I’d rarely felt: hope. That there could be one person who truly wanted
me
. Wanted my touch, not just endured it. But now you don’t want me to touch you?”

“Oh, Erich!” I turned from the grimy mirror. “When you touch my face you are probing at the hurt of a lifetime. I love your touch. But not there. Not on my face.”

“Sterling. It’s just a mark. You can cover it up if it bothers you. But even if you don’t, you are so much more than your face. Anyone who speaks to you for more than a moment will see that. You
think
. Your kindness shames
me
.”

I blushed and bent to lace my boots. The conversation had gone beyond comfortable boundaries. “Let’s go. I want to be on that ship you promised as soon as possible.” Even after such vulnerability, I couldn’t bring myself to explain where I needed to go.

The coast road offered flat and easy terrain, so we made good time. When Murana’s walls rose in our sights, I was glad we’d pushed so hard the night before. As we entered the city and the sun slipped below the horizon, I saw that Murana’s gate tower had fallen. Only the struts held the shape of the former mageglass structure, skeleton-like, above the stone ramparts. In Shankar there was so little mage-built architecture; the other catastrophe Lethemia faced—the fall of magic—had not been so visible.

Erich led us towards the city’s harbor.

“Will you find me a ship now?” I asked.

“We should go to the Talata townhouse first. I could stand a change of clothing and a good shave.”

Reluctantly, I agreed, but only because I still wasn’t ready to explain my mission to Vorisipor.

* * *

O
ver two hundred years ago
, another Ricknagel lord had risen against the Galatiens and won, taking the Crystal Throne. Later House Ricknagel had lost the Throne back to the Galatiens, who had stripped us of most of our properties outside our home province. We had no townhouse in either Murana or Galantia, but the Talatas had nice places to rest in either city.

The Talata townhouse in Murana stood in a row of homes with wide lawns. Only six blocks from the harbor, it made a convenient base for a traveler. The butler who opened the door bowed low, while at the same time requesting Erich to wait in the front salon for his mother. Erich had not warned me that Tirienne herself would be in residence.

I took a prim seat on a black-and-white damask divan. Tirienne Talata’s receiving salon had the same grand, imposing quality as the woman herself. Erich seemed perfectly at ease, but I hated to face his mother again.

“Erich, I didn’t expect you!” Tirienne floated through the door, a slender vision in light blue silk. Her eyes widened as she saw me. “What is
she
doing here?”

“Sterling and I had to flee Shankar. Costas had the city evacuated. He’s letting the Vhimsantese army sack it so he can trap and destroy them.”

Tirienne turned from me to her son and back again. “That’s why he had us bring more troops here to Murana? They’re going to march on Shankar? Amassis above. Why wasn’t I told?” Tirienne took a seat across from me and rolled her eyes. “Men. Always thinking women needn’t be informed. Sit down, Erich, you’re unsettling me.”

Erich obeyed, choosing the divan beside me.

“At least you’re here, Erich,” Tirienne said. “You can stay with our Murana troops to deliver Costas’s orders when they arrive. I’m returning to Talat City tomorrow. The ship is preparing even now at the private dock.”

“Sterling and I weren’t planning to stay, Mother. I only stopped to get some fresh clothing before we continue on ourselves.”

Tirienne glanced at me, her lips pursed in a hard line. Her gaze slid off my face. I’d been wearing a mask when I met her in Engashta; this was the first time she’d seen my mark. “Erich, I’d prefer if you do this my way.” Her tone brooked no argument.

Erich shifted, careful not to touch me. “I’m sorry, but we’ll be leaving as soon as possible, Mother. We never planned to stay more than a night here. Come, Sterling,” he rose, “let’s find you a quiet place to rest and freshen up.”

Tirienne’s narrowed gaze followed me out of the salon.

* * *

O
nce alone in a retiring room
, I washed hastily and rummaged through the bag Erich had packed for me in Shankar, finding a fresh dress, an extra chemise, and a cosmetic bottle.

I’d never worn the dress he had picked—I’d always loved it, but the idea of wearing it had horrified me. The hue matched my mark exactly: a deep, rosy pink that only highlighted the monstrosity on my cheek. Stesi had picked the fabric.

I reached for the cosmetic bottle, but hesitated. Tirienne would know, if I covered my mark, the shame it gave me.

I left my face bare.

I crept down the stairs quietly, looking for Erich. A footman stood outside the room where we’d met Tirienne. He lifted his hand to delay me. “Lord Erich and his mother are having a private moment.”

I leaned against the wall, not sure if I should retreat or remain.

Erich and Tirienne’s voices murmured through the closed door. Then Tirienne’s words lashed: “Amatos above, Erich! Why do you never consult with me before acting?”

“You betrothed me to her! Without consulting me, I might add.”

I blushed and stared at the floor. The footman had to know they spoke about me.

“That was before! Everything has changed,” Tirienne said. “Your happiness was a small sacrifice in exchange for the Crystal Throne. You would have been King Consort, with joint power of rule with the girl! But she’s
nothing
now, less than nothing. What possessed you to get us tangled up with her again? She’s a liability. You should have left her in Shankar!”

“Her father’s actions are not her fault, and Costas himself forgave her. She’s been reinstated as the Head of House Ricknagel. She’s not nothing.”

Tirienne made a sound of fury. “It’s bad enough, Erich, to have you running around with a new courtesan every other sidereal. If they even
survive
you, those low women tell any tale they can think up to make a jhass! Ruining your name and reputation! Now this? The girl is barely grown, and her face, Erich, her face! People will think all the stories about you are true. They will say
that ugly creature
is the only woman you can get because of your proclivities!”

I stood transfixed, though every word they exchanged struck me like a whip.

“Mother, it’s just a mark. There is more to her than that. She’s—good.”

My heart thumped wildly in my chest.

“That goodness is the problem! Erich, you may run around with all the courtesans you wish and pay them to permit you any kind of twisted liberty. They will stay silent for enough money, whatever trouble they may cause, whatever you do to them, even when you end up killing them! But that
monstrosity
, you said it yourself—she’s the Head of House Ricknagel. If you harm her—or worse—there will be an outcry and an investigation. She isn’t like one of your whores who can disappear without questions. And if you get that girl pregnant, you’ll be forced to marry her. Get that into your thick skull, darling. Imagine yourself being married to
that creature
for the rest of your days. When the Crystal Throne compensated you, such a sacrifice made sense. But she has nothing to offer you now. She’s poorer than we are. That helpless brat can no more salvage House Ricknagel than she could tempt a man to her bed.”

Rage, slow and dark, unfurled through my spine, stiffening my posture. How dare she? She knew nothing about me, who I was, what I could do. My father had raised me to take my duties seriously. I held the fate of Lethemia in my hands. I could end the violence that was tearing apart the country. I wasn’t
nobody.
I stared at the door. I’d show them! I only needed a ship, and I’d end this war with the Imperials in one sweep of ink. We didn’t need endless battles. We needed only delicate diplomacy and my signature.

I’d earn House Ricknagel back its rightful place and honor by brokering a lasting peace, something only
I
could do.