The Olive Conspiracy (25 page)

“
What about the letter?” Isaac
asked. “Are we going to read it before we take it back to the
queen?”

“
I think she should see it with the
seal intact.” Rivka led him back into the main thoroughfare, and
they walked off together in the direction of the jail.

22. The Letter from
Imbrio

Morning found Queen Shulamit in a sun-dappled
corner of her salon, cuddled happily on the sofa against the soft
flesh of Aviva’s side. Two hired musicians, middle-aged women with
kindly faces, serenaded the ladies with flute duets. Naomi was
playing on a woven cotton rug on the floor with cloth dolls that
looked like different-colored cats, safely cordoned off by a little
wooden fence just like the one in the kitchen-house.

Shulamit applauded against her thigh between
tunes so she didn’t have to drop Aviva’s hand even for a moment. “I
love what they’re playing.” She took a drink from a cup of
ginger-lemon tea resting on a side table.

“
It’s like a basket of little
cookies,” Aviva agreed. “Each one’s different, and sweet in its own
way, and then—whoo! It’s gone in one bite, and on to whatever’s
next.”

Shulamit smiled. “It just fills me with this…”
she paused to sigh happily. “…feeling of joy and peace, like maybe
everything’s going to be all right.”

“
Maybe it is!” Aviva kissed her on
the nose.

“
I’m sure Riv and the Guard
captured whoever they found last night,” said Shulamit. “Soon,
we’ll be able to question them, and stop the sabotage at the
source.”

“
Dig it right out by the
roots.”

“
And you know, Aviva? This flute
music is so hopeful, I can almost believe it’s not going to be
Carolina. You’ll see—Riv will get the men to crack and we’ll find
out it’s her Prince-Consort.” Shulamit’s eyes flashed and her
speech grew rapid with excitement. “I don’t know how they handle
divorce in Imbrio, but in any case he’ll be entirely discredited as
royalty, and maybe she can marry João after all, like she always
wanted. And
then
, then, Aviva—” She leaned her head dreamily
against Aviva’s shoulder and blinked up at the ceiling. “—the
Imbrian working class will finally be set free and live as Perachi
farmers do.”

“
I like your garden,” said
Aviva.

“
That place badly needs it,”
groaned Shulamit. “I was terrified when we were there that someone
would catch on from somewhere that you’re my chef and—”

“
I know.”

“
Also, if Carolina had nothing to
do with the bugs, then I can stop feeling guilty about—”

“
Shulamit.” Aviva took both of the
queen’s hands in hers and looked into her eyes, her voice quiet but
firm. “No matter how many flowers you grew around her portrait,
you’re not, you’re
never
culpable for anything she did. Not
then, not now, not ever. Even if it does turn out to be
her.”

“
Everyone keeps saying that,” said
Shulamit. “Now I just need it to sink in.”

She relaxed once again into the caresses of the
music until she heard familiar noises in the palace’s inner
courtyard. “Hey!” she squealed, jumping up. “They’re back! Riv’s
back.”

Aviva scooped up the baby as Shulamit quickly
dismissed the flute players with a handful of coins. “I’ve got to
get back to my kitchen work anyway,” said Aviva, kissing Shulamit
on the cheek on her way out. “Good luck!”

“
Thanks!” Shulamit scampered into
the daylight, holding her cup of tea carefully so she wouldn’t
spill anything in her agitation.

Rivka stood under the coconut palm, holding a
rolled-up paper tube. Her eyes brightened when she saw the queen.
“We got ’em.”

“
All
right
!” Shulamit made a
little cheering motion with her free hand, then drank more tea.
“Whoo! What’s the outcome? We have prisoners?”

“
Three men and one woman taken; one
man killed,” Rivka reported. “All Imbrian except for the
woman.”

Shulamit nodded. “Good work. Thank you. What’s
that?”

Rivka looked down at the paper. “I took this
from their leader. It came directly from Imbrio. I could be wrong,
but you might recognize the seal.”

Shulamit took the tube from her and turned it
over to see. Blood flooded out of her face and her cheeks felt
cold. “Yes,” she murmured, clutching her tea more tightly. “Um. You
didn’t read it?”

Rivka shook her head. “Under the circumstances
I thought it would be good if we could say honestly that the Queen
of Perach had witnessed the untampered seal.”

Shulamit nodded. “Good thinking. Well, let’s
see what this is about.” She handed the letter back to Rivka, who
used one of her smaller daggers to slit it open before returning it
to the queen.

As Shulamit read the words on the page, her
heart sank and collapsed into her stomach. Each sentence made the
picture clearer for her; she gritted her teeth and kept scanning.
Her sips of tea were automatic more than anything else; they
brought little calm except through the mechanicalness of the
motion. She felt as if she were tea herself, the bad taste in her
soul slowly growing as if the letter were the leaves and she was
the water quickly becoming overbrewed.

“
So,
nu
?” Rivka asked with
wide eyes.

Shulamit passed her the letter without a word,
trying to remember how to speak.

Rivka held up her hand. “Could you read it to
me? Their alphabet will take me too long to remember.”

“
I can do that.” Shulamit licked
her lips. “You want me to translate?”

“
Sure.”

Shulamit drained the rest of her tea, sat the
cup on the ground, and clutched the letter with both
hands.

My loyal friends, my Imbrian
compatriots,

Thank you for your success in our
plan. The market news already speaks of shortages—soon, there will
be no more talk in Perach of boycotting Imbrian goods. Our
hardworking farmers will be the ones to directly benefit from your
efforts, and Imbrio’s new burst of prosperity will be shared first
and foremost with those whose toil grew our crops and our
trees.

I commend you for getting rid of the
Perachi spy. I have had to do the same—I have killed rather than
let our plans reach the queen’s ears. Our most pure and beautiful,
noble Queen Carolina! You should drink to her praises when you read
this letter. I took her on a tour of Imbrio’s most prosperous but
unequal farms and I believe our truth has finally grown in her
heart. Her reign ushers in a new glorious age for Imbrio, one full
of riches to be shared among its own workers and not dependent on
foreign products.

Gods bless you, Gods bless her, and
Gods bless Imbrio. Imbrio forever.

Your friend,

João Carneiro de Façanha,
Visconde

“
There’s another one of those
ram’s-head things from his ring at the bottom, under his name,”
Shulamit added. She gave Rivka back the paper.

“
You have to stop him,” said Rivka.
“She needs to see this.”

“
I know, but…” Shulamit played with
her lip. “Yeah. I—thank you. I’m—I’m glad you were able to get your
hands on this. Um. I’ll have orders for you later.” She turned
toward her library.

“
Where are you going?”

“
I have tax papers I need to look
at.” Shulamit hurried away.

“
What?” But Rivka was talking to
the back of her head.

***

Rivka gave Shulamit space, occupying her time
by washing her feet in the stream behind the palace, changing her
clothes, and splitting a roast chicken with Isaac in the main
kitchen. Nourished and cleansed, she sought out her heart-sister
with new energy.

She found her at her desk in the library, piles
of papers stacked in every direction. “Hey. You look busy.” For
once, she wished Shulamit could see the smirk she was aiming at her
from behind her cloth mask.

Shulamit didn’t look up. “I’m trying to figure
out the difference between these two proposed trade agreements with
the City of Lakes.”

“
You should take a break. Come
on—work out with me.” Rivka flexed a muscle.

Shulamit cast her a skeptical stare, her mouth
an angry little line.

“
We don’t have to talk about it,”
Rivka added.

Shulamit looked back down at her papers. “But
what would I wear?”

“
That
is the silliest excuse
ever, from the queen with the biggest wardrobe since—”

Shulamit threw her head back and groaned.
“Okay.”

A few minutes later, Shulamit clad in something
sleeveless, roomy, and usually forgotten, the two women entered the
barracks practice area. With no guards there, and therefore no men,
Shulamit seemed to be relaxing in spite of herself—just as Rivka
had planned. Rivka handed her the weights she thought appropriate
for Shulamit’s lack of habitual practice and showed her what to do
with them.

On the tenth rep, Shulamit finally spoke. “We
have to save our farmers.”

Rivka nodded without breaking the rhythm of her
bicep curls.

“
But,” Shulamit continued, “what
would Perach be if protecting her meant selling out the Imbrian
working class?”

“
She’d be your
responsibility.”

“
Then can it really be my
responsibility to doom Imbrio to another generation of inequality
and torture? We’d be prospering at her expense, just as they would
have done to us. And it would be the poorest who’d suffer, not
those who deserve it. If I discredit João…”

Rivka transferred her weight to the other hand.
“He’s killed one of our citizens, even if he was a
chazzer
,
and he’s trying to ruin our country. What happens if you do nothing
and let him keep running Imbrio behind the scenes?”

“
Then we fall into economic ruin,”
Shulamit muttered, and panted with exertion. “I mean, even if we
figure out a way to stop the bugs, he’ll try something else. He’s
dangerous.” She put the weight down. “Look, Rivka, I want to save
us. I
have
to save us. But it would be buying our happiness
at the direct cost of thousands of others.”

“
What would your father want?”
Rivka pushed her guilt away into the curls. It was a low blow, and
she knew it. She just hadn’t realized it ’til the words were
out.

“
He wouldn’t have trusted me with
this,” Shulamit replied. “Which doesn’t exactly help.”

“
If it does help,
Isaac
trusts you. And he’s the one who’s seen you grow up these past
five, six years. Sometimes your philosophy differs from your
father’s, and that’s okay.”

“
He wouldn’t have understood. He
would have wanted me to put Perach first, without
thinking.”

“
Then don’t put it first
without
thinking
,” said Rivka. “Think, first. That’s your favorite
hobby, right? Overthinking? After reading and picking out new pink
and purple dresses.”

Shulamit let out a sad little giggle. “I love
you,” she mumbled, looking away.

“
Let’s do a little
spiel
.
Pretend you do nothing. Then what? Just, pretend that’s your final
decision.”

Shulamit was still for a moment, her eyes
focused on an empty corner of the room at which she was obviously
not actually looking. “No. That’s unacceptable.”

“
So you have to find a way to
expose him to Carolina,” Rivka insisted. “Something that you can
live with.”

“
I just wish he wasn’t…” Shulamit
looked up at the ceiling and sighed deeply.

“
Go back to the reps; it’ll help
you think.”

“
Things are so screwed up over
there, is the thing,” said Shulamit as she obeyed. “Carolina only
listens to the highborn, and no highborn Imbrian is sticking up for
the workers. João was a fluke, a special case. Without
him—”

Rivka looked directly into her eyes and spoke
with solemnity. “She would still have you.”

Shulamit slowly nodded. “You’re right. I’m the
only other person who could talk to her. I guess this means I have
to go back.”

“
We will of course go with
you.”

“
My God,” Shulamit blurted
suddenly. “Naomi caught my cold. She can’t go up there this late in
the year. The Imbrians have a real winter—”

“
She’ll be safe here with Aviva and
the wet nurses.”

Shulamit’s face quivered with emotion. “I’ve
never been away from either of them for that long. But you’re
right. I’m the only one left who can reason with Carolina about the
working class. I’m the only other person she’ll listen to. I mean,
not that she really listened to me before, but maybe now it’ll be
different since she’s seen the farms up close.”

“
It’s not going to be a fun
conversation.”

“
If it works, I can save both our
countries at once.” Shulamit paused. “If she even listens to me
after—after.”