Haydn of Mars (3 page)

As we reached the black wrought iron front gate Jamie tried to stop me once more, but I pushed him aside and went through, my ears barely registering the familiar creak of the rusted hinges.
 
In my nostrils was the faint hot smell of midday dust – and something else...

Incongruously, and though my throat was dry, I longed at that moment for a cigarette.

All was silence, and the front door stood wide open.
 
Inside there was a greater silence and I found Kaylan in our sleeping chamber, on his side, seemingly asleep with his face away from me.
 
It was only when I approached that I saw the stains of red at his throat.

Jamie was there to steady me, and whispered in my ear, “You must come now.
 
I feel Frane will change her mind and have you killed before we can get you away...”

I stood still, even as he clutched me, and then I moved closer to the bed, bending gently to kiss Kaylan, feeling the soft brush of his whiskers on my face.

“I am so sorry,” I whispered gently, so that Jamie could not hear me.
 
“So sorry I did not love you more...”

I stood then and turned, and let Jamie lead me away from that place.

Somewhere in darkness–

I awoke with my back aching and a cramp in my side.
 
For a moment I feared for my litter, and brought my hand across my swollen belly.
 
But the moment of fear passed and I realized that my back ache and cramp were due to the sleeping position I had been forced to assume in the hollow, dark, close false bottom of the wine wagon that bore me.
 
I could hear the red liquid sloshing against the rounded sides of the huge cask above me, and the faint smell of tannin tickled my nostrils.

As I was instructed, I gave a rap on the side of my prison, counted to four and gave another rap.

There was no answer, and for a moment a new kind of panic filled me.
 
What if the wagon had been waylaid or we had been found out–

To my relief, an answering, resounding
thwack
sounded on the outside of the cask, just above my head.

The wagon slowed, and then stopped.
 
In another moment I felt the vehicle shiver as the driver debarked.

There was a faint grunt and then a square of darkness opened in front of me, letting in cold night air.

“You require something?” a gruff, obescient voice said.
 
The face was ravaged, one eye socket empty, a missing ear, a long, deep scar, even in the darkness visible like a dark paint stroke from the scalp to the lip line.

“No, Xarr, I only wish to inquire about our progress.”

“We have been stopped twice.
 
Once at the city gates, a thorough search, and again by F'rar henchmen, on the road between Wells and Bradbury.
 
The second time they were interested only in the wine.”

I saw him smile, his head haloed by distant pinpoints of stars.

“And you, Xarr?”

The smile widened.
 
“I am interested only in the wine, too.”

“Ah.
 
That accounts for your breath.”

I heard movement, and Jamie's sleek head appeared beside the driver's.

“What's wrong?” he asked anxiously.
 
“I was nearly a kilo ahead before I turned back–”

“Nothing's wrong, Jamie.
 
I merely needed to know our progress, and to stretch my aching back.
 
I would like to get out for a few minutes if possible.
 
The curved bottoms of these carriers are most uncomfortable, especially for one carrying a litter.”

The young page's voice became even more anxious.
 
“We cannot stop here.
 
And you cannot leave your hiding spot.
 
We are still in much danger.
 
There may be F'rar watching us from the hills.
 
We could be accosted again at any moment–”

“I understand.
 
It was wrong of me.
 
Then we must proceed at once.”

Almost before I had said the words, Jamie nodded, and the square of night was closed up.
 
I heard Xarr climb with an
oof
back up to his seat. In a moment the wagon rolled on.

I curled first one way, then another, but could not find comfort.

I thought of my own selfishness, and of the many others like me who now lay dead in the streets of Wells.
 
Parterine and Colin, my father's old friends, and so many others...

Seeking to cure my aching back, I thought of my own dead husband, his throat cut as casually as if he had been a slaughtered chicken.

I thought of all these things, and then, finally, I slept.

This time, when the square was removed it was filled with brilliant sunlight.

Jamie's face appeared, less anxious.

“How do you feel this morning?”

“I would like to throw up,” I answered honestly.

Then, mustering as much dignity as I could, I leaned out of the opening and did so in front of my page.
 

To his credit, he merely stepped back, then waited patiently for me to finish.

“It must be hard bearing...”

I let him help me from the hiding place.
 
“It was not morning sickness, Jamie.”
 
I waved a paw back at my former prison, which, I now saw, was even more decrepit than I had thought.
 
“It was the damned smell of bad
wine
...”

“
Good
wine!” the gruff voice of Xarr chimed in, and now I saw the ravaged-faced cat approaching us unsteadily on two feet.

“You drink too much of your own wares,” I said.

“If you looked like me,” he laughed, brushing a paw across the ruined left side of his face, “you would do the same!”
 
He stood regarding me with an amused look.
 
“So this is little Haydn...”

Jamie interceded.
 
“That's enough, general.”
 
He moved toward the vintner, who merely brushed him aside with a swipe of a paw.

At the utterance of the word ‘general' my attention focused more sharply on the ravaged-faced cat.

“Let me finish, whelp,” the vintner said to my page.

Jamie, finding himself on the ground, was about to speak when Xarr looked down at him, his eyes hardening.

“
I said let me finish
.”

Jamie was silent, and Xarr looked back up at me.
 
His face was an unreadable mixture of drunkenness, cunning, cruelty, and a dozen other emotions lost in his ugliness.

“These,” he said, brushing his paw along the line of his scar, even more horrific – a red, deep welt turned over on itself in its bad healing – from his lips up past his missing eye and lost ear, “I earned for your father.” His voice suddenly became even and cold.
 
He tweaked his nose, his other eye, other ear.
 
“I would lose the rest for you.
 
That is all I have to say.”

Abruptly, he turned and staggered away, leaving me open-mouthed and Jamie standing once again, brushing himself off.

“
That was General Xarr Fealdon?
” I said in wonder.
 
“I had no idea...”

Jamie said, “Xarr is a common name.
 
I thought you knew.”

“I thought he was long dead.
 
I last saw him the day my father was murdered.
 
He disappeared...”

“He did not disappear.
 
He was thrown out of his generalship and joined up with us.
 
Many old friends of your father are with us.
 
We are well prepared.”

“It's time you told me everything, Jamie.”

“Soon,” he said.
 
“There are others you must see.”

As if on cue, the camp we found ourselves in came alive.
 
I noticed that the tents had been pitched on a high, flat bluff, surrounded on all sides by miles of semi-desert.
 
There was one road in, a gentle slope with no cover to either side.
 
In the distance the rim of a crater glowed like a wall against the early sun.
 
The sky was pink and clear and cold.

I thought immediately how vulnerable this place would be from the airships.

“We have spotters in the distant hills, and anti-air batteries at the four horizons,” a strong, clear voice said behind me.

I turned to see someone I knew – someone I had known –

“Kerl...”

“You shouldn't whisper,” he said, smiling.
 
“Your whisper makes me feel as if I am still far away from you.”

“Kerl...”

I felt suddenly lightheaded, and had the horrible, distinct impression that I would collapse into my own vomit–

There were strong hands on me as I fainted, and I heard Kerl order, “Take her to my tent.”

Then, again, I slept.

I awoke with the image of the sun burning through the tent overhead.

Late afternoon, I judged by its height.

I felt rested, and refreshed.
 
The cushions beneath me were as soft as the bottom of the wine cask had been hard.
 
Scented petals floated in a water bowl on the floor nearby.
 
An overhead fan, its blades made of red junto wood, turned lazy and slow in one corner, moving the dusty air.

The tent flap was thrown aside, and Kerl was there.
 

He had not been a dream after all...

“I waited for you to rouse,” he said.

He entered, and let the flap fall behind him.

He was taller than his brother, and broader.
 
Where Kaylan had been elegant and slim, his younger brother was solid as stone.
 
His mane was thick and luxurious, his features chiseled but saved from hardness by a soft mouth.
 
I had been in love with him nearly my whole life.

“It was cruel, the way you left,” I said simply, holding his gaze.

“When my brother was picked–”

“Over your mother's objections, and your brother's own,” I reminded him.

“True.
 
But my father, as usual, got his way...”
 
His gaze drifted off for a moment.

“Yes.
 
And he paid for it with his life, along with many other senators.”

“True again.
 
But he led me to understand that there were reasons why I must leave when I did.”

Some of my evident hardness melted.
 
“Then it wasn't your idea?”

He looked at me levelly.
 
“No.
 
But there was more going on than you ever knew, Haydn.
 
This usurpation by Frane was coming for a long time.
 
The republic was doomed the day your father was assassinated.”

“And I was naive enough to think I could help keep the republic together.”

I noticed that he had not taken a step closer to me.

I could contain my anger no longer.
 
“And you left without saying a word to me!”

“It had to be done.
 
Already there were plots within plots.
 
When you married my brother, it was already evident the republic would fail, and the monarchy would return.
 
Our goal was to make sure you became Queen, not Frane.
 
You are the legitimate heir to the throne.
 
We needed time to ensure that.”

“Then my happiness was sacrificed to buy you
time
?” My voice rose to a near hysterical pitch.

He took the verbal blows and stood unbowed.
 
“Yes,” he said. “Your marriage to my brother was a bandage to keep the republic together for another year.”
 
He looked away.
 
“But it still wasn't long enough.”

“And you and I–”

His voice dropped to a whisper, and he took a step back.
 
“You and I...”

He turned quickly and was through the flap before I could utter another word.

When I emerged from the tent, washed and composed, twenty minutes later I was told that Kerl was gone, had ridden by horse to check the northern fortifications.
 
The day was lowering toward twilight, and the camp was readying for the night.
 
I counted a few more than forty heads, and there were fewer tents than there had been earlier in the day.