The Princess of Cortova (15 page)

Part Five

Endgame
—the final phase of the game. The endgame generally starts after queens have been exchanged or when the immediate goal is to promote a pawn.

Sacrifice
—the voluntary offering of one of a player’s pieces in exchange for a favorable advantage.

Poisoned pawn
—a pawn that, if captured, would create a serious disadvantage to the capturing side.

Counterattack
—the launch of an attack by the defender.

Capture
—moving a piece to a square occupied by an enemy piece, thereby removing the enemy piece from the board. Once a piece is captured, it may never return to the game.

Day Fourteen

26

A Favor

THE NOTE HAD COME
from the royal physician, not from the princess herself. Marcus thought this a bad sign. In the past she’d always written to him in her own hand, however brief the message might be. Was she too injured even to pick up a pen? He could only guess. No one outside the family had been allowed to see her till now. And the one public announcement had been brief: the princess had survived the fire and was expected to live. But that could mean almost anything.

They’d moved her to the queen’s old chambers, her own rooms having been completely destroyed, and Marcus was worried about this.

On their ride back from Westria, Betta had talked a lot about her mother—especially their final hours together, which had naturally made a strong impression. She’d described the scene, still vivid in her memory all these years later: the dim candlelight; the dark, stuffy room; and everyone so grim and silent. She’d described her own feelings, too: how frightened and confused she’d been, and how she hadn’t been able to understand why her mother had to
leave
and where exactly she was going.

Now, to put the princess in that very same room—well, it seemed unwise. Marcus just hoped she wouldn’t so much dwell on her mother’s death as remember the living woman she’d loved so dearly. To lie where her mother had lain, to touch the things she had touched—who could tell? Maybe it would actually give her comfort.

The physician met him in the anteroom.

“Thank you for coming, my lord Marcus. Her Highness has been most anxious to speak with you. I confess I put it off till now because I didn’t think she was strong enough to have visitors. But she was so insistent that I thought perhaps it would ease her mind if you came. That’s the only reason I’m allowing it.”

“I understand. May I see her now?”

“In a moment. First let me mention a few things.”

“Of course.”

“She made her way out into the atrium, which saved her life. But apparently she tripped in her haste, suffering a severe blow to the head; she was unconscious when we found her. Moreover, when the colonnade collapsed, a beam crushed her foot. She may never walk on it again. The burns on her legs are severe, and flying sparks fell on her arms and her face. There will be scars. And as you would expect, the smoke has affected her lungs. But it’s her legs and the burns that concern me most. Infection, you know.”

Marcus nodded. So far it was actually better than he’d feared.

“She’s highly agitated. She keeps calling for you and for Claudia, her servant.” He paused for a moment. “As Claudia died in the fire, I now turn to you.”

“Does she know about Claudia?”

“She does not, and I am keeping it from her. Apparently the woman was of special importance to her.”

“What shall I say if she asks? I have never lied to her. Perhaps that’s why she trusts me as she does.”

“I’ll leave it to your best judgment. If you must tell her, then do it gently.”

“I will. Anything else?” He could hear Betta coughing from the next room.

“The girl from Westria, Lady Marguerite. It was she who apparently started the fire.”

“I’ve heard that. But it must be a mistake. The princess was especially fond of her; she told me so herself. And what would the girl hope to gain?”

“That’s not for either of us to decide. What matters is that the princess doesn’t know. Perhaps you can avoid mentioning it.”

“All right.”

“That’s all, then. Go ahead. But please be brief and don’t tire her out.”

The room was dark, just as she’d described it from that day long ago. The windows had all been shuttered, and there was no other light besides the candles on the tables by the bed. The air was overwarm and musty from long disuse. It smelled, besides, of medicine and sweat. And over all that was the pungent odor of burning, which filled every corner of the palace now and would for many months, maybe even years. Marcus was tempted to pull the shutters wide, let in some light and air. But he didn’t. The physician must have his reasons.

Betta lay under a linen bedsheet, the coverlet having been removed. The weight of it would be painful, he thought, pressing against her burns and other wounds. Her head and chest had been propped up on pillows.

“My lady,” he whispered as he approached the bed. “It’s Marcus here.”

She looked up at him with a kind of feverish excitement and tried to speak. But that started her coughing, and she couldn’t stop, so she covered her mouth with one hand and reached out to him with the other. He took her hand and held it gently in both of his. He saw the bandages on her wrist and arm.

“You came!” she finally said. “I’m so glad.”

She was breathing rapidly, almost panting.
She’s not getting enough air,
he thought, resolving to speak to the physician about the shutters.

“I will always come when you want me.”

“I’ve been calling for weeks, and nobody would listen.”

“No, my lady, you are mistaken. It’s only been one day.”

“Has it really?”

“Yes.”

“It seems like forever. Marcus, there is something I need you to do for me. It’s very important. Will you promise?”

“Of course, if it’s within my power.”

“It is. Sit, please. It’s hard for me to look up at you.”

“All right.” He released her hand and brought a chair over to her bedside. “Now what would you have me do?”

“Go to my bedchamber—”

“Oh, my lady! It’s—”

“I know, it’s a ruin. I’m not
that
addled. But there is something hidden there. Chances are it will have survived. And I must have it, Marcus. You must get it for me. It will ease my mind to know that it is safe.”

“I will try.”

“Find Claudia—my old servant, you know her. She’ll show you where it is. You’ll have to move the bedframe, and it’s heavy; but that’ll be nothing to you. It’s under a loose tile, in the corner.”

“I might not be allowed to go there, my lady.”

“I’ll write something out, giving you permission. And you must go alone—except for Claudia, of course. This is very private business and of great consequence. I’m very afraid that when the workmen start clearing out the rubble, they’ll stumble across it by accident. You have to get there first.”

“I’ll go today. But can you tell me more—what it is I’m looking for and where exactly it’s hidden?”

“Claudia will show you. She knows everything.”

There was no help for it. “My lady, you will have to tell me yourself. I cannot ask Claudia.”

She looked at him, then, with such alarm and sorrow on her face that it made him long to lift her and hold her like a little child. But he couldn’t do that. He could only wait for her to ask.

“She died in the fire, didn’t she?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“I don’t remember. I don’t remember anything.”

“That’s probably for the best.”

She turned her face away, and he could hear her weeping. The sobs soon turned into loud, spasmodic coughs, and the physician came hurrying into the room. He went to the other side of the bed and felt the princess’s pulse.

“Perhaps no more company for today,” he said, giving Marcus a significant look. “Maybe he can come back tomorrow, when you are feeling stronger.”

“No,” Elizabetta said. And though her voice was hoarse and rough, she sounded astonishingly regal. “He will leave when I am ready for him to leave. And now we would like to be alone.”

The physician was startled by this, but he gave her a low bow and backed out of the room. When the door had shut with a delicate click, she reached again for Marcus’s hand.

“I’m glad it was you who told me.”

He just nodded.

“She was like a second mother, you know. I loved her very much.”

He nodded again.

“She would have died for me, Marcus; I’m sure of that. And though I can’t remember what happened, I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s exactly what she did.”

“If so, then she is with the saints and angels now.”

“She would be in any case.”

He gave her silence, and she took it. When she was ready, she said, “It’s a document bearing the king’s seal. It’s in a metal case, hidden under a tile in the floor. Near the corner, under the bed.”

“I should be able to find it.”

“Wrap it in something or hide it under your clothes. I don’t want anyone to see it or even to know that it exists. Then bring it to me, just to put my mind at rest. After that, I’m afraid I must beg another favor.”

“All right.”

“Keep it for me, somewhere secret.”

“I will do that gladly, my lady. Your document will be safe. No one shall see it or find it accidentally. And no one will know I have it.”

“Good.”

“Can I assume you will want it back at some point?”

“You are as sharp-witted as ever, dear Marcus. Yes, I will want it back—at the time of my father’s death.”

He just barely stifled a gasp—because suddenly he knew exactly what that document must be. It explained why she’d been so eager to learn about statecraft, and politics, and the history of Cortova.

“Your face is flushed of a sudden,” she said.

“I was just thinking,” he replied.

“May I be privy to your thoughts?”

He took a chance.

“I was thinking how splendidly you will rule Cortova.”

27

A Child Has Eyes, Same as Anyone

“YOUR MAJESTY,” ALARIC SAID,
barely keeping his voice under control, “I demand to know why you have arrested one of my subjects—and a particular friend of mine, as you are perfectly aware. I would also know why you have refused to see me till now. It is altogether an outrage and a grave discourtesy.”

Gonzalo met Alaric’s ice with fire. “I had more important things to worry about than your dignity and your feelings. My palace was burning. My daughter almost died. And your ‘particular friend’
was the cause of it all. She may be one of your subjects; but she’s in my kingdom now, and she shall pay for what she did, as any criminal must.”

They were standing in the middle of the room, eye to eye, but they were not alone. Alaric had brought twenty of his knights; Gonzalo had many more.

“On what possible grounds do you accuse the lady of such a heinous crime?”

“There was an eyewitness.”

“Are you telling me that someone actually
saw
her set the fire?”

“I am.”

“And may I know who that person might be?”

Gonzalo lifted his head defiantly and looked down his nose at Alaric. “Yes,” he said. “It was my son, Prince Castor.”

Alaric was speechless for a moment, his mind racing. “But he’s just a child,” he finally said, knowing that sounded hopelessly feeble.

“He has eyes, same as anyone.”

“Then he must have been mistaken.”

“He was not. Castor was very clear about what he saw.”

“If so, then why didn’t he stop her, or go for help, or warn his sister of the danger?”

“Are you calling my son a liar?”

“I suppose I am.”

“Then you will pack up your things and be gone from here before the sun has set.”

“I would do so gladly, but I will not leave without the lady Marguerite. She’s been falsely accused and is being wrongfully held. Perhaps you ought to question your son a little more closely, find out what really happened.”

Gonzalo’s knights were moving in now, and Alaric saw that in his fury he’d gone too far—and in doing so he’d shut a door that he very much needed to keep open.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” he said. “In my agitation I quite forgot myself. I only ask that the lady be tried in a fair and judicious manner, that she be well treated until her guilt or innocence has been judged, and that she be allowed to have visitors and advisers in her cause.”

A glimmer of triumph sparkled in Gonzalo’s eyes. Alaric watched him enjoy his little moment. “You may remain until her fate is decided,” Gonzalo said. “Then you will leave Cortova and never return. There will be no alliance and no marriage.”

“I want to speak with the lady myself. I want to be assured that she is well treated.”

“You may
want
those things, Alaric, but you will not have them. This is my kingdom, not yours. Already I am letting you stay when you are no longer welcome. Don’t ask for anything more.” And then when the king of Westria showed no indication of leaving, “This conversation is over.”

As Alaric was on his way out and had almost reached the door, Gonzalo spoke to his men in a carrying voice, clearly intending for him to hear: “Back in Westria, you know, they say she’s a witch.”

Tobias and the king stood side by side on the terrace where Gonzalo’s men had come for Molly. Only this time the common room was well guarded by Alaric’s knights, as was the south wall, though it was of such a height that you’d need a ladder to scale it.

“So from the beginning,” said the king. “Why were you here?”

“Molly had something important to say, and she didn’t want to be overheard. This seemed a private place.”

“Both private and remote. So how did they find her?”

Tobias considered. “I’m just guessing, but maybe one of Gonzalo’s men—disguised somehow, most likely as a slave—asked around for her, and someone remembered seeing us go off in the direction of the villa. It’s no secret that I often come out here. Knowing that, the rest would be easy. The villa was empty. Even the slaves were outside, gaping at the fire. And I know for a fact that the door wasn’t locked.”

Alaric nodded.

“They seemed quite prepared. They knew I was with her—well, I suppose they would since we left together—and they took that into account, in case I might be a problem—”

“The young Goliath.”

Tobias flushed with anger. “So I was called in jest back when I worked in your stables.”

“I’m sorry, Tobias. I didn’t mean it that way.”

What other way was there? But Tobias set it aside. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “The point is that the whole thing was handled quickly and efficiently.”

“Were they rough with her?”

“More than they would have been if she hadn’t fought so hard. But Molly’s tough. A few scrapes and bruises are the least of my concerns.”

“Yes,” Alaric said. He paced in little circles, thinking, then came back and faced Tobias. “What was the important thing she wanted to tell you?”

Tobias paused, remembering how stunned he’d been when she’d told him her suspicions. “That she ran into Prince Castor as she was leaving the princess’s rooms. He was behaving in an odd and suspicious manner. She thinks he’s the one who set the fire.”

But the king wasn’t shocked at all. “I agree with her.
He’s
the accuser, you know. Castor will swear in court that he saw Molly do it.”

Tobias hardly moved. For a moment he just let it all wash over him. “That’s exactly what I was afraid of,” he finally said. “It’s very bad.”

Alaric went over to lean on the railing, looking down at the sea, having his own private moment of despair. It was almost exactly where Molly had stood while she was still safe and free. Tobias remembered how she’d jumped back of a sudden, saying it filled her with dread. And with that memory there came the sudden realization that he might never see her again. He turned away, not wanting Alaric to see the tears that were welling in his eyes.

But the king didn’t notice. He was still staring at the sea.

“I suggested to Gonzalo that the prince might have been mistaken, and he took very high offense at that. He’ll never believe that his son started the fire and then lied about it. And even if he did, he’d keep the boy’s secret anyway and let Molly take the blame. Heir to the throne and all that.”

“Yes,” Tobias said, sweeping an arm over his face to wipe away the tears.

“Whatever the laws of Cortova might be, if there’s an eyewitness, and he happens to be the king’s son, I don’t see any hope that she’ll be fairly tried. I’m not even allowed the courtesy of visiting her or sending someone to advise her during the questioning. As you said so succinctly, it’s very bad.”

“Then we’ll have to free her ourselves.”

“Well, if you’ve got any ideas on how to do that, now would be the time to share them, because I’m completely at a loss. We can’t storm the walls without an army, and my army is in Westria, and we haven’t the time to bring it here. Gonzalo won’t drag this out. The trial will be soon. So whatever we do, we’ll have to do it quickly”

“I know.”

The word
hopeless
hung in the air, unspoken.