Two Kingdoms 12: Dusk

[DoctorM]

Author's Note: This is the tenth part of an AU construction about a very different post-1120 Gwynedd where the coronation challenge at Kelson's coronation went rather differently--- very differently. There are characters and background here that go back to some stories in very, very early issues of Deryni Archives and to my own much younger days. This segment falls after "Entr'acte" and "Knives" but some years prior to "Arrows and Glass". As always, input and comments are very much appreciated.

****************

Evening on the Rhemuth docks, and across the river the sky is dark violet streaked with burnt-orange. Cold for October, a cold All Saints' coming. Two of the big river barges are moored where Queen's Wharf runs into Lambton Quay. Little oared lighters cluster around a third sailing barge out in midstream.

The Shadow Queen is up on the outside stairs of one of the warehouses, looking out at the river. Charissa leans over the rail and looks along the paved riverfront. A wharf is built on pilings; a quay is built on fill. Something learned this evening, something Kheldour's told her.

Tonight they'll be leaving from Queen's Wharf— not named for her,  but for a Haldane king's bride a century ago. Down the riverfront there are points of white Deryni witch-light and flickers from little wood fires on the verge off the paved path down to Lambton Quay.

There's nothing happening here tonight. Of course there isn't. A couple of cartloads of Chancery documents brought down to the docks to be shipped upriver, a little group of Chancery clerks and young courtiers there to shepherd them. No more than a nominal escort. The Shadow Queen's government has been relocating to Valoret for weeks now, and the royal treasury and the royal wine cellars are long since emptied and the contents sent north. Everyone in the city knows that. There's nothing in a few cartloads of Chancery paperwork to attract the attention of the city mob.

Nothing of any significance is happening here tonight. Of course there isn't. Though some of those figures crouched round the little fires are the Shadow Queen's Moors, and up there on warehouse roofs the Prince of Kheldour's own archers— the Night Walkers, the Rhemuth city mob calls them —have been quietly setting themselves in place since the light began to fade. Small groups of Falcon Horse and Colforth's Tolan Guard have been filtering into side streets between the river and Rhemuth Castle for the last hour or two.

But nothing is happening here. Of course there isn't.

Whatever's drawing notice in the city this evening will be up by the northern walls, at Thorndon Quay— the Duke of Marley's wife and heir are being sent north to Valoret, and they're going down to the Thorndon docks with due ceremony, with banners and a full escort. Richenda of Marley is popular in the city, and if any Haldane intelligencers are watching anything, they're watching Marley's woman and her son. Here at Queen's Wharf, nothing is happening at all.

****

Kheldour comes up onto the landing with her and passes her a brass cup, something dark and rich, the scent of cardamom rising with steam into the chill air.  Charissa looks over at him.  She jerks her head back at the carts. "Well, nobody even looked at us, not all the way from the castle. I'll give you and Colforth that. Not a bad plan. But now what?"

Her husband shrugs. "We wait. Not long. But no ship anywhere ever leaves on time."

The Shadow Queen looks back at the little line of carts in the lee of the warehouses. Two big carts filled with heavy wooden crates with Chancery seals, a smaller third cart with a dark cloth canopy. Clerks and courtiers are checking packing lists. The queen's ladies-in-waiting are being handed down from the covered cart, all in grey cloaks. Two of them carry wicker hampers with the queen's little glove beagles. The convoy escort clatters off down the wharf. They're all Tolan Guard, Colforth's men, but tonight they're in Marluk livery, dressed as ordinary men-at-arms and not the royal lifeguard.

Charissa had ridden in among the courtiers. They were all new, young men from cadet branches of noble families, proud and anxious in their first offices, all of them probably deep in debt for the southern finery they're wearing. She's taller than any of them and far better dressed.

She's in men's clothes tonight— riding boots to the knee, laced black tights like a second skin, a scarlet doublet deeply open in front. She'd worn a feathered beret earlier, and now blonde hair falls loose down her back. She looks at her husband. "Just a question," she says. "Was this whole plan just an excuse to get me dressed up like this?"

"Like you ever needed an excuse." Christian runs his eyes over her. "But I will say I like the garconne look on you. Always have."

She leans over to kiss him and grins. "Of course you do. So I still make a beautiful boy?"

Christian tilts his head to look at her. "Oh dear God, yes. Down in the Forcinn, some city prince would sweep you away in a heartbeat to be his kept pretty boy."

"Think I could earn my keep, then?"

"You'd bankrupt him." He reaches up and touches his thumb to the scar across her nose. "This even makes it better— just a hint of street bravo."

She raises the cup to him, shifts her voice to a Forcinn drawl. "You," she says, "have no idea."

***

Charissa raps a gloved hand on the stair rail. "This is all new," she says. "Fresh paint. Didn't take them long to rebuild, did it?"

Christian shakes his head. "Trade goes on. Whoever's in Rhemuth Castle, trade goes on."

Charissa points to the barge out in mid-river. "Where's that one from? It's not ours."

"Downriver," Christian says. "Who owns it, though, that'll be a tricky question."

"No point in checking manifests or river passes, you're saying."

"Not a bit. Too many bribes paid out, too many good forgers in Concaradine and here both. The Eirian's supposed to be closed from Desse south all the way to Concaradine port. Chains and armed wardens' boats and riverbank patrols. But barges go both ways and nobody ever sees anything."

The Shadow Queen shrugs.  "Well, new warehouses. All built since the fires. Worth admiring how fast the guilds get work done. Where do they say everything in them comes from?"

Christian points west. "Oh, out of the Connait. That's the usual answer— everything has to go by land through the Connait. That's what they say, anyway. And they triple the prices on silks and pepper and wines."

She looks at him. "The warehouses are big enough. What do you think, though? Optimistic to rebuild like this. Far too optimistic."

"Dangerously optimistic.  Especially with a siege coming."

"Good," she says. "Not the whole city, not this time. But these—" She opens one hand and flicks her fingers upward.  They both know what she means.

*****

The queen looks up at the shadows moving over the rooftops. This is mostly Christian's plan. Colforth would've sent the whole of Tolan Guard with her.  Well, right now the royal Festillic standard is still flying over Rhemuth Castle. Everyone in the city must know that tomorrow the queen is set to tour the city's southern defenses, and royal provisioners are having wine and food sent down to the walls. So no one looked at a few cartloads of documents bound for the north.

She's had weeks to think about this, but she's never been able to imagine what leaving would be like. She should, though. People have been coming to kill her since she was eleven years old. Her stiletto is in her sleeve, and she has another knife in a boot top. Leaving Rhemuth pursued by a mob or by Haldane assassins is something she can see in her mind's eye. Leaving this way...no. Too quiet, too simple.

Christian is behind her with new cups. She sniffs at the one he hands her: uisce, not cardamom.  She leans against him. "I hate leaving Rhemuth," she says. "But I'll fight for Valoret. You know that, right?"

"D'accord." He taps his cup against hers. "We just have to sort out who we're fighting first.  The Haldanes are overextended. Wencit won't get through Marley to get to Valoret. But he might set Rhydon on you. I've been waiting for that. And there's the Council. At least a couple of them want you dead."

"Not just a couple of them. Not Thorne, not Roiste.  But maybe everyone else except de Laney." She brushes her hair back.  "Marley's winning battles all over the north country, but I'll expect something nasty from Wencit— probably Rhydon let off the leash."

"We'll set Aurelian on him. Let's see how that goes."

Charissa is watching the warehouse roofs again. "You were right about something. It is just about moving to a new city.  That's all it is. We're taking everything with us, and that includes all the people who want us dead."

He touches a fingertip to the scar on her nose again. "We'll get you north, do another crowning, get the wine cellars set up. Then we'll start ruining the new year for a lot of people."

[Nezz]

You've done such a nice job of humanizing Charissa, and even making her a sympathetic character. And there is very little in the writing itself that might suggest you aren't a pro-author. Have yo published any fiction?

[DoctorM]

Other than in Deryni Archives, alas, no.  Anything I've published has been in academic journals. And thank you very, very much for the kind words about my writing!

[DoctorM]

You've done such a nice job of humanizing Charissa, and even making her a sympathetic character. And there is very little in the writing itself that might suggest you aren't a pro-author. Have yo published any fiction?

Other than in Deryni Archives, alas, no.  Anything I've published has been in academic journals. And thank you very, very much for the kind words about my writing!

[DerynifanK]

I have a feeling that we are building up to something. The way you keep repeating "nothing is happening, nothing at all." hints that something is happening. that something is going to happen on the trip to Valoret. Your writing gets better and better. I think one of the saddest sentences I have read is "people have been coming to kill her since she was 11 years old." What a way to grow up

[Nezz]

I think one of the saddest sentences I have read is "people have been coming to kill her since she was 11 years old."

I was struck by that sentence too; it's one of those statements that says a lot about the subject without coming out and saying it.

[DoctorM]

I have a feeling that we are building up to something. The way you keep repeating "nothing is happening, nothing at all." hints that something is happening. that something is going to happen on the trip to Valoret. Your writing gets better and better. I think one of the saddest sentences I have read is "people have been coming to kill her since she was 11 years old." What a way to grow up

You'll have to keep an eye out along that river trip...

Thank you for the kind words about my writing!

[DoctorM]

I think one of the saddest sentences I have read is "people have been coming to kill her since she was 11 years old."

I was struck by that sentence too; it's one of those statements that says a lot about the subject without coming out and saying it.

It does explain a lot about her. I can hear an exchange in my head sometimes, where Christian-- the mercenary soldier --says blithely that strangers have been trying to kill him since he was eighteen, and Charissa says that it was eleven for her...and that mostly she knew exactly who was trying to kill her.

[Laurna]

Optimistic to rebuild like this. Far too optimistic."

Oh dear, I foresee that little "flick of the fingers, upward" means that  "Nothing happening at the docks" is but a prelude to  devastation happening at the docks by the time the sun rises. And I am curious about the barge that seems to have no ownership. Very Curious.
DoctorM,  I really like the way you write. This is intriguing.

[DoctorM]

Optimistic to rebuild like this. Far too optimistic."

Oh dear, I foresee that little "flick of the fingers, upward" means that  "Nothing happening at the docks" is but a prelude to  devastation happening at the docks by the time the sun rises. And I am curious about the barge that seems to have no ownership. Very Curious.
DoctorM,  I really like the way you write. This is intriguing.

Sunrise may be a bit soon, but you're thinking down the right path.

There may be some surprises soon...

Though that barge may also go to Christian's point that for all the decrees of the two regimes, the merchant class is making money regardless. Maybe.

[Jerusha]

I do not trust that barge.  Maybe it is not just merchant's cargo it carries.  And then there are those little oared lighters clustering around.   I do admit to  having an overactive imagination.

Very well done, DoctorM.  I find I want Charissa, Christian and Aurelian to make it through this alive.  You have written them so well.

[DerynifanK]

I do not trust that barge.  Maybe it is not just merchant's cargo it carries.  And then there are those little oared lighters clustering around.   I do admit to  having an overactive imagination.

Very well done, DoctorM.  I find I want Charissa, Christian and Aurelian to make it through this alive.  You have written them so well.

As I have said, I really want Charissa and Christian to survive and have a happy life, just somewhere other than Gwynedd, maybe in a warm, exotic foreign land.  Byzantyun seems to welcome refugees from the 11 kingdoms and they do rather well there. Less concerned about Aurelian.

[DoctorM]

I do not trust that barge.  Maybe it is not just merchant's cargo it carries.  And then there are those little oared lighters clustering around.   I do admit to  having an overactive imagination.

Very well done, DoctorM.  I find I want Charissa, Christian and Aurelian to make it through this alive.  You have written them so well.

Thank you!

[DoctorM]

I do not trust that barge.  Maybe it is not just merchant's cargo it carries.  And then there are those little oared lighters clustering around.   I do admit to  having an overactive imagination.

Very well done, DoctorM.  I find I want Charissa, Christian and Aurelian to make it through this alive.  You have written them so well.

As I have said, I really want Charissa and Christian to survive and have a happy life, just somewhere other than Gwynedd, maybe in a warm, exotic foreign land.  Byzantyun seems to welcome refugees from the 11 kingdoms and they do rather well there. Less concerned about Aurelian.

We shall see...

[Nezz]

I do not trust that barge.  Maybe it is not just merchant's cargo it carries.  And then there are those little oared lighters clustering around.   I do admit to  having an overactive imagination.

Very well done, DoctorM.  I find I want Charissa, Christian and Aurelian to make it through this alive.  You have written them so well.

As I have said, I really want Charissa and Christian to survive and have a happy life, just somewhere other than Gwynedd, maybe in a warm, exotic foreign land.  Byzantyun seems to welcome refugees from the 11 kingdoms and they do rather well there. Less concerned about Aurelian.

We shall see...

I'm thinking maybe we need a Transfer portal to the Deryni World's version of Tahiti.