The Quartered Sea (32 page)

A tear trembled on Jelena's lower lashes and fell to splash unheeded against her breast. "How could he have failed me? He dared so much. How can forgiveness be all he asks of me?"

Karlene took a small step closer to the queen. "As I understand it, Majesty, he also asked you to believe in him, and I think he wants to be forgiven for that as much as for falling before the storm. He doesn't want you to blame yourself."

"Foolish, foolish Benedikt," she murmured as much to herself as to the women listening. "And I would tell him so if he weren't dead." Her fingers opened and closed on the arms of her chair, and she stared at them as though they belonged to someone else. Then she drew in a deep breath and lifted her head. "Thank you for bringing me this news, Karlene. As dreadful as it is, it would be more dreadful still not to know. Will there be a service Sung for Benedikt in the center tonight?"

"I don't know. It's Second Quarter, there are almost no bards in Elbasan…"

Jelena's chin lifted. "There are others who cared for him. Tell the Bardic Captain that there will be a service Sung and that his Highness and I will be there."

"One last Song, then let the air kigh carry the burden for a while. You need some rest." Trembling lips formed themselves into what was very nearly a smile. "And if anyone tries to keep you up, you tell them you've been commanded to rest by your queen."

Karlene didn't wait for Kovar's approval. She stepped outside the Palace, called the kigh, and Sang Benedikt's passing into the air. When she finished, the kigh circled her once, ethereal hands outstretched as though in comfort, and then it flew straight up where it either met or became a half a dozen other kigh.

The residents of the Citadel were so used to bardic Singing, none of them paid her any attention as she crossed the courtyard toward the main doors of the Bardic Hall.

"Karlene?" Evicka opened one of the floor-to-ceiling ground-floor windows and beckoned her over. "Is it true? No. Sorry. Of course it's true." She rolled her chair back out of the way so Karlene could enter the lounge and grabbed the other woman's sleeve. "What do you know?"

"Little more than I Sang." She regretted her abrupt answer when Evicka flushed and tried to make up for it by telling her the entire story and asking if she'd reply to any Songs that came in.

"Of course. You go get some sleep." Releasing Karlene's sleeve, Evicka spun her chair to face out the window again. "I was the last bard to see him alive, you know."

"I know."

"He could be an irritating little shit at times, so ready to take offense, but he was awfully cute and I kept thinking that once he'd been a bard for a few more years he'd figure out how it worked and…"

"You could jump him?"

"Well, fall over on him anyway." She folded her hands on her stumps and drew in a breath that quivered around the edges. "Will we Sing for him tonight? There aren't many of us in the city."

"We'll Sing. Her Majesty informed me that Benedikt had other friends and that she and His Highness will be attending."

Evicka snorted. "Well, that ought to be put a set of pipes up Kovar's butt."

Once the world stops rocking back and forth so violently
, Karlene promised herself heading out into the hall and up the stairs,
I'll ask her why she's so happy about that
. Things had clearly gotten a lot worse around the Bardic Hall than anyone had been willing to Sing.

Perhaps it was just because they were listening for it, but Karlene's Song seemed unusually loud inside the small audience chamber.

"The windows do open onto the main courtyard," Magda murmured as the last note faded. "And I suspect she Sang the moment she stepped outside."

"Did you understand any of it?" Jelena asked, her fingers white around the arms of her chair.

"Only the grief. I can hear the emotions when bards Sing the kigh, but if they don't use words, not the actual communication."

"Only the grief," Jelena repeated. She shook her head. "I suspect this time that was the actual communication."

Magda stepped forward and laid one hand on the queen's arm both for comfort and to get a clearer reading of her kigh. Under the thin linen, muscles were rigid, and under an outward composure lay pain and guilt.

Well aware of what the healer sensed, Jelena sagged back into her chair. "If I hadn't sent them out searching for a land across the sea, they'd all still be alive. This is my fault."

"No. Not here in Shkoder nor so far out to sea." A gesture stopped the next question unvoiced. "I understand in my head that this loss, these deaths, are not my fault, but here…" Her free hand touched her breast. "… here I will always feel it. I had to say it once, myself, just to hear how it sounds because you know as well as I do that everyone will be saying it soon."

Magda tightened her grip, just a little. "Not everyone," she said, surprised her voice sounded so steady. She'd been afraid that the loss of
Starfarer
would throw Jelena back into despair, but her kigh held none of the twisted, self-loathing that had blighted that first long year after the death of Queen Onele.

The
Starfarer
had made Jelena actually
be
the queen in a way that the death of her mother had not. To realize her dream, she'd had to take up both the power and the responsibilities of the throne. She'd held both long enough to be able to put neither down. That was good to know but was it worth the loss of twenty lives?

Jelena jerked around and stared wide-eyed at the healer. "See the Bardic Captain? Now? No. I'll see him tonight at the Center. That'll be soon enough!" She paused and laughed shakily, a little embarrassed by her own vehemence. "I couldn't bear to see him now, not when the news is still so raw and painful. He'll be all
I told you so
…."

"It was not exactly unexpected news."

And not exactly
I told you so
, but close enough. Palms flat on the Bardic Captain's desk, Magda leaned forward. If she hadn't been able to feel the grief in his kigh, she'd have been unable to stop herself from slapping him. "Her Majesty will need your support through this."

"My support?"

"Everyone's support."

Kovar matched the healer glare for glare. "The support of the families of
Starfarer's
crew? The support of the bards when one of their own, of the few, has died? If she'd listened to me…"

"If she'd listened to you, she'd still be trapped in the guilt of her mother's death." Realizing that if she stayed within arm's reach she really would hit him, Magda stepped away. Both her parents had tempers, and she'd never felt so much their child.

"If she'd listened to me, Benedikt would still be alive."

"You don't know that!" She whirled around, took three steps from the desk and three steps back. "A rock could have fallen on his head. A bandit could have jumped him from behind. A cut could have gotten infected when he was Walking far from help." He sat there, expressionless, and she couldn't believe the arrogance of the man. "How can you possibly believe that your directions are all that keep the bards alive!"

"I have to believe it. They are my responsibility."

Change leaves us unprepared, undefended.

If we keep the pattern strong, the edges can't unravel.

When we Walk too far, we weaken the pattern.

When we Walk on paths unknown, we weaken the pattern.

Reeling under the onslaught of Kovar's kigh, Magda barely managed to stand her ground.

When one of them dies, a piece of me dies.

Magda thought she had a pretty good idea of what pieces of Kovar had already died. Had she been concentrating so intently on the queen she hadn't seen how badly the Bardic Captain needed healing?

He'd known what she'd meant and had deliberately shut her out. All she could think of was the stupid joke the apprentices at the Healers' Hall found so funny.
How long does it take Magda to change her clothes? That depends; her clothing has to want to change
.

"I will see Her Majesty at the center tonight as well," Kovar continued. "And I think she owes me an apology."

He hugged Karlene, bent and kissed Evicka, then gathered the other half-dozen bards into his smile, before turning to unerringly face Kovar. "I was just east of Riverton when the kigh told me. I'd have sent word, but I wasn't sure I could make it in time."

Kovar nodded. "If Marija doesn't mind."

"Please, Tadeus, Sing fire." Marija blew her nose into a large handkerchief and fixed him with a damp gaze. "I hate Singing memorials. I'm just no good at holding back tears, and that always puts the fire out."

The others smiled at the joke, weak though it was. Tadeus, his own eyes wet, put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "Who Sings earth?" he asked. "None of us here…" And then he realized, his voice trailing off.

Kovar sighed. "I was not happy with Benedikt for going against my wishes and going off on this voyage, but that doesn't mean I am unwilling to Sing for him." He paused and stared at nothing for a moment before softly adding, "Or that I will not mourn him." Then he shook himself and brought his attention back to the moment. "One more thing before we go to our places. Those of us at the service tonight will tomorrow personally go to those families of The
Starfarer's
crew who live close at hand. We are not the only ones to suffer loss, and it's best the truth reaches them before rumor."

Kovar had left the gallery as the last choral ended and had placed himself by the Second Quarter doors, the doors that led from the Center to the Palace. The queen couldn't help but see him. She would apologize for not trusting his judgment. He would graciously suggest that they never speak of it again, and then they could get on with the monumental task of keeping Shkoder safe. There had been any number of things she could have used his advice on over the last quarter, but with the exception of the
Starfarer
, there'd been no real damage done.

He would be so happy when things were back to normal. No matter what rumor suggested, he had not enjoyed their estrangement nor prolonged it in an attempt to gain personal concessions from the queen.