Sterling (29 page)

“Why?” Erich looked at me questioningly.

My face, mark and all, flamed. “It seems as if you are telling a story from the point of view of the hero of my story,” I said in a strangled voice. “I told the story from the point of view of the heroine.”

Erich cocked his head, smiling slightly.

“Tell us how he finds the ugly princess,” begged Luca. “The truth, the truth!”

“She wants to know how your tortured young lord meets the princess,” Diali translated.

“Ah, the princess.” Erich wrapped his arms around his legs and clasped his wrists. “Well, she was the most lovely person he had ever seen.”

“No!” said Luca after Diali translated. “She was ugly. The princess was ugly.” She gestured at me in a fit of annoyance.

“Miss Starla said the princess was ugly,” Diali explained reluctantly.

“Ugly?” Erich echoed. “Ugly? That is a lie. The princess was a veritable angel, wise and compassionate and kind. She pegged the young lord as a useless wastrel immediately, but she knew her duty, and she accepted him despite knowing he would make a poor husband.”

“No, no,” said Luca. “I do not like this story. I preferred it when the princess was ugly.”

Diali muttered in Lethemian, “This is the problem with telling us stories. We get possessive of them. Though I can only agree with her. Now that you’ve changed the princess, the story loses its interest. There is no trouble, and a story is best when there is trouble, no? If she is gracious and pretty and accepts him, there is no ...
bang
... at the end when it’s all resolved.”

Erich frowned. “But—the princess isn’t ugly. And there is trouble. Of course there’s trouble. The young lord still can’t touch the beautiful princess—” He did not understand that they had lost interest. Already Luca chattered with Vasil, and the big man, Danev, had gotten up and turned towards the carts.

“We are a difficult audience to please,” Diali said apologetically to Erich. “But you must work on your storytelling skills. This has the makings of a good story, a great story, even, but you must have the trouble or it loses its impact. It is better with the ugly princess. Come, I will show you to my wheelhouse, where I will offer you hospitality tonight. Nadea and I will sleep outdoors.”

“Oh no,” I said, standing. “We couldn’t possibly. We shall sleep outside.”

“I will not hear of it,” Diali said. “You are fatigued. Nadea and I will enjoy the lovely night sky.”

Diali would hear no arguments, so Erich and I were left alone in a comfortable Esani wheelhouse. The room contained only one enormous down-filled cushion, which Diali had referred to as the bed. I thought he could not decide if Erich and I were actually married or not.

Erich surveyed the room. “This would not be a bad way to travel. It’s like a ship’s cabin.”

“Yes,” I replied blankly.

“Did you get enough to eat?” he asked.

I nodded.

“You only ate two cakes, Sterling. That isn’t enough. What if we face another period of deprivation—”

“I couldn’t have eaten another bite.” I flopped onto the cushion. “I’m going to sleep.” I turned my back and tucked my knees to my chest, savoring the softness cradling my weary body.

Erich’s weight lowered the cushion behind me. He wrapped an arm around my waist and put his face into my neck. I finally understood why his touch elicited no sparks. Magic was broken, and Erich was free of his “curse.”

“The princess isn’t ugly,” he whispered as I drifted into sleep.

T
he Esani troupers
woke before the sun to pack their campsite. A gentle knock sounded on the wheelhouse door, but Erich remained sleeping. I slipped from the bed and opened it.

“Good morning.” Diali poked his head into the room. “Will you break your fast with us? Meet us outside for food when you are ready. We will depart immediately after we eat.”

After Diali left, I leaned over the bed and whispered, “Erich!”

His eyes opened. “Is it morning already?”

“Apparently the Esani start early. They’ve offered us breakfast.”

“Lovely! I’m still ravenous.”

Erich followed me outside, where Nadea distributed food and hot tea.

“Good morning,” she said in Vhimsantese as she handed me a cup and a biscuit.

“Good morning.”

“Ah, Miss Starla.” Diali took a seat on the ground beside me as he nodded to Erich. “Tell me where you are headed on our old Esani road?”

“We’ve been lost for days,” I explained. “We don’t even know where the road leads. If we continue along it, will we find posting stations or carriage inns to supply us with food and transportation?”

Diali frowned. “It is only an Esani road. There are no towns. We bring our own supplies; we drive our own animals.”

My heart sank. “But where does it lead?”

“It runs between Vorisipor and Muscan,” Diali said. “From this point, it hugs the coast. No one uses it but us. Most travelers sail between the cities or use the Imperial road to the east.”

“Is that where you are going? Muscan?” I asked. Erich turned.

Diali noticed Erich’s interest and switched to our native language. “Yes. We have two gigs scheduled there.”

“And where do you go after Muscan?”

“Back east, to the Esani city of Mirisk. That is the end of the tour.”

“What about the west? You don’t tour there?” Was there any way I could convince them to take us across the border? It would be faster and safer than walking.

“You mean Lethemia.”

“Yes,” I said. “We love Esani shows.”

“We would love to perform in the west—the money is good there—but the relations between our countries make this difficult. Especially now.”

“What have you heard?” Erich broke in. “Has there been a battle?”

“We heard rumors of the fighting up north at our last show . The Imperial troupes were routed. They’d sought to take the city of Orvia, but a large Lethemian force deterred them. The battle now rages in Shankar itself. I can take you to Muscan, no farther.”

I nodded our agreement, even as acid anxiety burned in my stomach. Shankar.
The battle was raging in Shankar.
My people were safe, but the fate of the city meant so much more. If Costas could not defeat the Imperials in Shankar, they’d have a powerful position in Ricknagel Province. I prayed that all the rumors of Costas’s military prowess were true, and that we could return in time to warn him of his danger. So much had to go right for us to prevail; it felt nearly impossible. But we had to try.

“Thank you,” I said distractedly to Diali. “We are grateful for your help.”

The Esani man rose to ready his cart for travel.

The wheelcarts rolled through another long, oppressive stretch of
yeucalipts
. Erich and I would never have lasted had we not found the troupe. It felt like divine fortune.
Thank you, Amassis.

At midday we stopped and the Esani fed us applecakes, jarred kraut, nuts, and dried fruit. We ate outside beneath the trees, and Erich consumed more food than I imagined possible for such a svelte man. He had lost more flesh than I had on our journey. Oddly, I seemed to have gained weight. More than once as we ate, Erich’s eyes darted to the bodice of my ragged linen, where my breasts stretched the thin fabric.

“Do you think Costas will succeed?” I asked to distract him from my chest.

He lifted his brows. Diali had lent him a razor, so his cheeks and chin were once again smooth. He looked much younger without facial hair. “His plan was sound; he has a strong force. Though we must hope he doesn’t succeed
too
quickly.”

“Most of his men just fought at Orvia. They may be tired, there may be more Imperials in Shankar than he anticipated—”

“There’s nothing we can do about any of it from here,” Erich said, downing another apple cake. “All we can do is get ourselves across the border without being captured, as fast as we can—though the gods know how we’ll do it.” He shifted his back against a
yeucalipt
trunk, wincing. It was not the first time I’d seen an expression of pain marring his face since we’d left Vorisipor.

“What is it?” I reached for his shoulder.

He snapped to his feet. “Don’t touch me!” He stalked back to Diali’s wheelhouse.

I remained sitting beneath the
yeucalipts
. There was no reason for Erich to reject my touch. Tears spiked, but I brushed them away as I saw the Esani preparing to travel again.

* * *

A
fter another day
on the road, the landscape changed. I rode beside Diali on the deck of his wheelhouse where he drove the horses. Being inside the cart left me nauseated—I could not tell if my stomach illness was on account of my anxieties or perhaps some damage the potion had done in Vorisipor. I only knew I had not woken a single morning without sickness in days.

“We climb now,” Diali said as the carthorses took an incline. “Muscan lies at the top of a plateau of land. I hear this is similar to your High City in Lethemia.”

I nodded. “Yes, but our plateau rises much faster.”

“I should like to see your capital someday,” Diali said wistfully.

“You shall see it,” I promised him. “First, you will come to Shankar and perform at my home. Then I have friends in Galantia who will hire you and pay you extravagantly.” I had no guarantee that I could convince Costas Galatien of any such thing, but I owed Diali. He’d saved our lives.

“You are a good person, Starla,” Diali said. “You have kindness in your heart.”

I bit my lip and looked away. The
yeucalipts
had finally thinned. Different trees cropped up, familiar species like oaks and madrones. The cart lurched as the road steepened.

At last the cart crested the rise, opening onto a broad, flat expanse. Muscan stood clearly visible in the distance, its famed minarets creating an unusual skyline across the azure horizon. On the clearest days, growing up, I had been able to see the onion-shaped spires from the high point in Shankar above Papa’s garrison. There were seven minarets, all gold, flashing in the sun.

Diali smiled. “We perform at one of the basilicas.” He pointed. “That one. The basilica of the first Emperor. They all like to build one, of course, but the first is the prettiest and the largest. We always get a great crowd in Muscan. We will reserve front seats for you. You will like it, Miss Starla. I guarantee.”

We passed a group of men speaking loudly at a corner. Some were dressed in Imperial Army uniforms. I slouched low beside Diali, who clucked his tongue after we were past.

“Did you hear what they said?” Diali asked.

“N—no.” I had been too anxious with keeping my face concealed.

“The fight in Shankar continues. They were angry that there had not yet been an Imperial victory. Most Imperials are infected with expansionist fever; they want badly to take your country. It is a matter of national pride. We Esani do not get involved. We do not condone war; it is against our way.”

I exhaled, once again grateful that it had been Esani we met. Had any other Imperials found two wandering Lethemians during a time of war, they would have taken us captive. But the Esani wanted no part of politics.

* * *

T
he basilica dazzled
with bright colors and gold leaf. Diali parked his wheelhouse in a wide courtyard.

“You and Cavan had better stay inside the wheelhouse,” Diali advised. “You are clearly not Esani, and we don’t wish to field awkward questions from our hosts.”

I scrambled down from the driving deck, through the window behind it, and into the wheelhouse. Erich rested on the cushion, staring at the ceiling.

He glanced at me. “Have we arrived?”

“Yes, but Diali asked us to remain in the wheelhouse. He said there might be questions, otherwise.”

He rose. “But we’ll need to do reconnaissance and discover the latest news of Shankar—as soon as possible. We’ll leave the Esani now.”

“Diali invited us to their performance tonight.” My voice shook. I worried about the news. What if Costas’s plan had failed? What if my city had been destroyed?

“Well, we can’t go,” Erich replied sharply. “We have a duty. We need to get back to Shankar.” He began rummaging in one of the Esani trunks.

“What are you doing?”

“We aren’t exactly inconspicuous, love. People may remark on two unusual westerners in Muscan. I’m searching for clothing.”

“I’ll wrap my linen around my face,” I said with more acid than I intended. “Many Vhimsantese women go veiled in public.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“We may have to buy some proper clothes,” I cut him off as I sorted through the dilapidated rags we’d been wearing since Vorisipor. At least we’d been able to wash at streams, but our atrocious clothing had to go.

“With what?” Erich snapped.

We had no money. I scowled. If we had been in any other country, both our families would have had agents in a major city like Muscan. But Lethemia’s tense relations with the Eastern Empire made commerce and travel difficult. We had no support but whatever the Esani players were willing to give us.

Erich continued, “We’ll have to walk out of here, perhaps even across the border—”

“Walking to Shankar will take us days,” I complained. “We could ride it in a single hard day.”

“Sterling, by what fantasy do you see us procuring horses? We have no funds. Start thinking like a fugitive rather than a princess.” His words were laced with such annoyance that I turned away. “We can take clothes from the Esani. They’ll be too small but they’ll do. Go see what they’re up to.”

I peered out the wheelhouse, but the Esani had disappeared after parking in the basilica courtyard, no doubt to greet their hosts within the vast temple.

“They’ve gone.” I turned back to Erich. “I wish we didn’t have to steal from them, Erich; they’ve been so kind to us.”

He shoved a shawl and skirt into my arms. “There’s cosmetic in that box.” He pointed at a small case on the sideboard. “Make up your face.”

I brushed the cosmetic over my cheeks.

“You look like Sera Rachell,” Erich said in a tight voice. He went to Diali’s cupboard, pulled out a silken shirt with Esani-style embroidery up the cuffs, tore off the tattered garb he’d been wearing since Vorisipor, and put on the silk. He did it quickly, staying in the shadows.

But I saw what he wished to hide: angry new scars of lash marks that curled across his back, over his shoulders, and around his waist. If they looked this bad now, what had they been like as we’d fled Vorisipor?

“Erich! Your back! Let me see it.”

He yanked the new shirt down. “It’s nothing.”

He’d let me crawl all over his back as we’d climbed down the cliff! He must have been in agony, and he hadn’t even winced. “At least let me—”

“No, Sterling. Here’s the plan. We’ll rent horses and ride through the night to get to the border. We’ll find out what’s happening in Shankar and see if we can cross into Lethemia.”

The state of his back unnerved me so much that I fell silent for several moments. “How will we rent horses?” I asked at last.

“They’ve plenty of jennars.” Erich tilted his chin towards the cupboard where he’d found Diali’s shirt. “The cash box is right there. We can make it up to them later. We’ll return what we take three times over. We need to get home, Sterling. We must warn Costas.”

I nodded, but before leaving the wheelhouse, I scribbled a fast note to Diali, thanking him and apologizing profusely for our thievery. Then I tucked a spare bottle of cosmetic into my blouse.

Erich’s hand on my arm brooked no argument. “We have to go, Sterling. This is our chance.”