Two Kingdoms 13: River

[DoctorM]

TWO KINGDOMS 13: RIVER

Author's Note: This is the eleventh 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 "Knives" and "Dusk", but some years prior to "Arrows and Glass". As always, input and comments are very much appreciated.

*****

There are flashes of light along the riverbank as the two barges move past. Witch-light in blue or white, quick signals from Deryni captains with the patrols of Tolan and Marluk Horse keeping the Eirian shores clear. It's all nearly silent, the two barges gliding northwards on a chill new moon night, sails furled, bargemen told to stay mute at the sweeps.

Christian is at the bow of the lead barge, picking out the shadows of horsemen against the tree line on the east bank. There's a wind in out of the northwest and nothing else moving on the dark river. He can hear bargemen swinging out leads to check the river depth and see his archers resting against the starboard rails.  There are flashes from amidships— signals going back to the cavalry on shore.

A hand touches his elbow. Charissa is there at his side. He looks back sternward to the  sailcloth enclosure run up for the Shadow Queen and her women. She's come forward with just one of her Moorish guards, and she slides over next to him. There's a scarf wrapped round her nose and mouth like a mask, and her face is lost inside the hood of her cloak.

Christian looks over at her. "Is it that cold?"

The queen leans on her side and looks back at him. "For a Tolan girl? This is nothing. But I learned something tonight. The bargemen have a name for me. They're calling me Scar behind my back. I thought this would give them something to talk about."

Christian grins. "Colforth would have a few of them flogged. Should I have anybody hanged?"

"I think I like it. Scar. Scarface. Better than what they usually call me at Rhemuth and Beldour. The bargemen say it and they think I can't make out the local dialect. Maybe I'll keep wearing a mask. I can make it my look." Her voice is soft behind the cloth. They're both speaking the steppe tongue.

"You should make your women do it, too. Make it fashion."

Charissa brushes her hair back. She runs a gloved finger along his shoulder. "I should make you do it. It's a good look for you. But if you're going to start calling me Scar, wait 'til we're in bed.  Meanwhile, where are we?"

Christian gestures along the riverbank.  "We're coming out of the bend in the river. We'll make Ramos tomorrow afternoon. Pick up Marley's woman and her barges there, then up to Valoret. One more night."

"No problems, then."

"No drama. Nothing exciting. No chains across the river, no ambushes from the bank, no mystery boats coming out of nowhere.  The patrols are all keeping pace with us,  and Aurelian is sending his own people down to meet them. It'll all be boring, but boring's good."

She laughs at that. "Not a light-horse captain thing to say."

Christian shrugs. "I'm a courtier these days. Queen's Remembrancer, queen's husband.  If things are boring, that just means the planning went well."

"That's Aurelian talking. But you're right. Let's wait on adventures 'til I'm in place at Valoret."

He leans across to kiss her through the mask. The start of the scar is just visible above the cloth. He brushes his lips over it.  He tilts his head back towards the queen's enclosure at the stern. "I keep hearing you and les chiennes back there. There's nothing scarier than women laughing together. What's tonight's topic?"

"Male performance," Charissa says. "We've been discussing male performance failures."

"And...I will be throwing myself in the river right about now."

She taps a long finger against his chest. "Oh, I think your reputation is secure enough. The one person who knows first-hand had good things to say about you. "

"You're used to me, that's all."

"Still— good things. Twelve, thirteen years worth of good things."

He pulls her finger up to kiss.  "My God, I'm going to ask about gossip. Who else was under review back there?"

She's grinning. He can tell that. "Les chiennes all had something to say about Lionel. Every one of them. They all agree that he's very, very good at what he does."

"All of them. Dear God, Lionel's organizational skills. Think about doing the scheduling."

"They all still like him, too. Think about that. Now Marley on the other hand..."

"It can't be that all of them had Marley, too. It can't be. But...I think I'd like to know what they say."

Charissa flicks two fingers up and lets witch-light come up silver-blue around them.  "Not all six for Bran. Just...two and a half, we'll call it."

"I think I know what the half means."

"Of course you do. But pay attention here. The tall one, Kenna— she says that the difference between Lionel and Bran is that with Lionel, she always felt like she was learning new things and that he was proud of her. With Bran, well, she always felt like he was doing what he did just so some invisible audience would cheer him. She says that whoever Bran is with, he's really making love to the mirror."

"That's cruel. Perfectly true, but cruel. Also funny."

"They all agree on something else, too— Richenda should take a lover."

It's all he can do not to laugh out loud. "Think about it. Bran would...I'm not even sure what Bran would do. The last thing we need is him killing someone in a duel... Though Bran catching Richenda in bed with someone— if it didn't mean he'd kill her or lock her up for life, the look on his face would be worth seeing."

"Well, she probably does deserve a lover—"

"Don't look at me.  Get one of Lionel's brothers. Think about that lot and all those unhappy wives at Beldour they're usually comforting."

"Not Teymuraz. Not him." She shakes her head. "I mean, I really don't like Richenda, but...not Teymuraz.  He hits. He hits his women. He likes doing it."  Her voice has an edge to it.

Christian breathes out. "No. I wouldn't wish him on anyone, even Richenda." He shrugs. "Well, she'd never take a lover anyway.  But I do love gossip. Part of being a courtier now."

"You always loved gossip. Always. But... funny thing. Back there with les chiennes in that tent thing,  dissecting other people's love lives feels so odd. Here we are— dark of the moon, dark river, nothing to see on either bank. All the court gossip— who's sleeping with whom, who's in foal and who's the father —all that just feels like you're talking about characters in a story. It's like we're not part of the world at all. Not 'til we get to Valoret."

He slides his fingers through hers. "The world's still out there, love. We'll be putting in  at a rendezvous just after dawn. Couriers up from Rhemuth, messages to decipher. You're queen and I'm your Remembrancer. We're still part of what's happening. Two wars to fight,  cities to burn, getting you into place at Valoret. We should do it one day, though— sail somewhere, just sail out to wherever and not be part of the world."

*****

The landing is in wooded country south of Ramos. There's something that passes for an inn and a river dock.  The barge's boats are moored in muddy water by the pilings, Guards in Marluk livery are pacing the water's edge, and Christian's archers ring the little inn and its outbuilding.

Christian and his aides are on the dock with the couriers from Rhemuth. Horsemen have galloped here along the Eirian with ciphered dispatches from the Shadow Queen's intelligencers. His aides are busing poring over papers and working out ciphers. He's signing documents himself, his signet pulsing green with Deryni light over his signature. Servants dash back and forth from the inn with ale and platters of food. Two of the Queen's Moors are making kahwa over a fire by the base of the dock.

The Shadow Queen strides back from the inn to the dock, two of her women in tow.  She signals for a servant and a steaming mug appears, There's cardamom in the air. She's changed at the inn, and she's in men's hose and jacket and boots, her long hair still damp. from the bath. She's masked again this morning. She takes the mug and nods. "Safi. Good enough. Shukran."

She looks at Christian. "Tell me about Rhemuth."

"Riots," he says. "The Haldanes haven't closed off the roads to the city yet, but it's starting. Riots the last couple of days.  Some looting. The city mob still think you're in the castle. Our people are holding the walls and the gates. They've got evacuation plans in place. Outlying garrisons pulling back. The Haldanes are being slow. Duke Nigel and his nephew won't want to lay siege to their own capital."

Charissa pulls the mask down. She sips at the thick Moorish kahwa. "Not just that. It's Carthmoor's captains," she says. "They don't trust  Alaric Morgan. Morgan's Deryni."

Christian takes folded papers from the portfolio he's using. "That's spreading— anti-Deryni feeling. News from Concaradine. Anti-Deryni riots a few days ago. The mob went looking for Deryni. They got distracted. Found the wineshops first, then they came for moneylenders and tax collectors. The city Jews called for help. So the city senate sent in soldiers. There were Carthmoor troops passing north through the city and they joined in— Royal Haldane Archers, my people say. They acted like they were in a taken town. Chaos for a day and a night. Bloody enough, everybody blaming everyone else."

Charissa shrugs. "Nigel's problem. And the Haldane boy's.  They can sort Concaradine out."

"St. Holstun," Christian says, "Ever hear of it?"

"No. Why? Where is it?"

Christian passes her a sheet with cipher clerks' notes all down the margins. "It's a market town, east of Valoret. Almost to Carcashale.  This is ugly. Happened three days ago. The town had Deryni there, mostly craftsmen. They'd been there a long time-- thought they were safe. You know how it works— there was a sermon about how the Witch Queen and the Deryni were destroying Gwynedd. That set the crowd off. They burned out Deryni houses and shops. They seized anybody who might've been Deryni or maybe was just unpopular. Hanged some.  Burned eleven."

Charissa isn't moving. There's nothing in her face at all. She looks out at the river. "Where's our nearest garrison?"

Christian thinks. "There's a tower maybe a day or two west of St. Holstun. On the river. There's a Marluk garrison."

"Send a message via Valoret. Do it now. I want horses on the road: I want them on the road yesterday. They go to St. Holstun. This is a ratissage. Sweep and burn. Tell the locals...tell the locals that it's me. Tell them it's from me."

He draws in a breath.  "Right. Ratissage."

"I won't have it," Charissa says. "I'm queen now. No ratonnades against Deryni. Not  in my kingdom, not while I'm alive. Make it like they'd do on the steppe."

"Ratissage, and make it fashion. Done."

Charissa  hands him the sheet back. "You know what I hate? The Haldane boy says he's king 'for human and Deryni'. Guess how much I hate that. Don't ever use 'human' like that around me.  Say not-Deryni, say whatever, but don't bloody use 'human'. Once they can say 'human' out in the villages and mean that we're not...this is what happens. Ratonnades. Burnings.  And they'll think they're entitled to do it because they're 'human' and we're not.  You always talk about history. So send in a ratissage. Teach them something at St. Holstun. La reine le veult. The scarface girl sends her regards."

Christian looks out at the river. "It's not the same by daylight, is it? Daylight, and the river is just a way to get to Valoret. Still in the same goddamned world. We're still part of it all. I'll make sure we teach a few lessons.  Ratissage, and make it fashion. We'll find out how it goes when we get to Valoret."

[Jerusha]

Another engrossing chapter! Charissa is a hard queen, but this may be the only way she survives.  And somehow I keep hoping she will.

[DoctorM]

Thank you, Jerusha!

She's hard-- at least about some things. But she's learning to survive and be a queen.

[Nezz]

So I'm confused now, but it's easy to confuse me. They refer to Nigel and "the Haldane boy" and "Duke Nigel and his nephew." I know we readers have been assuming that Kelson was killed at the beginning of this, but if that's the case, who is "the Haldane boy"? Have we been assuming in error? Obviously you haven't named him on purpose so I'm not looking for you to answer this question (unless you've answered in an earlier story and I simply had brain freeze and don't remember).

Yeah, Richenda ought to take a lover; maybe someone from the other side. But she won't. *sigh* Poor kids...

[DerynifanK]

Interesting, I think the Haldane boy has to be Kelson. He may have not won but I pretty sure he didn't die. Would like him to regain control of Gwynedd. Would like Charissa and Chrsitian to end up happy but somewhere other that Gwynedd. Your description of the boat trip down the Eirian at night is magical, loved it.

[DoctorM]

So I'm confused now, but it's easy to confuse me. They refer to Nigel and "the Haldane boy" and "Duke Nigel and his nephew." I know we readers have been assuming that Kelson was killed at the beginning of this, but if that's the case, who is "the Haldane boy"? Have we been assuming in error? Obviously you haven't named him on purpose so I'm not looking for you to answer this question (unless you've answered in an earlier story and I simply had brain freeze and don't remember).

Yeah, Richenda ought to take a lover; maybe someone from the other side. But she won't. *sigh* Poor kids...

Ah, now! Kelson is very much alive. He and Nigel (and various other family members) escaped south after the coup. Charissa always says "the Haldane boy" as a dismissive thing. She won't say "King Kelson" of course, and she dismisses him out of hand as just "the boy", since he is a dozen years younger than she is.  She's saying that he doesn't  count enough even to have a name. She always says "Brion Haldane", too--- never "King Brion".

[DoctorM]

Interesting, I think the Haldane boy has to be Kelson. He may have not won but I pretty sure he didn't die. Would like him to regain control of Gwynedd. Would like Charissa and Chrsitian to end up happy but somewhere other that Gwynedd. Your description of the boat trip down the Eirian at night is almost magical, loved it.

Kelson's alive, very much so. Charissa just won't use his name, let alone any title.

Thank you for the words about the boat trip.  Being on open water at night is magical.

[Laurna]

I love the night travel on the river. It is magical, and the exchange between husband and wife about the women's talk I am sure gave Christian's some much needed light hearten banter. As for Richenda, I agree she needs a lover. I wonder if her carriage will get stuck in the mud on the way to her rendezvous with the queen's barge on the river. When see meets the queen she might tell her about this huntsman named Alain who got her carriage out of the mud. Even in an alternate universe some things are always destined to happen. Otherwise we would not have Briony and Kelric in the later years of this universe. 

[DoctorM]

Laurna-- we'll have to see what happens... But I like the idea of fate.