The army fired their cannons, the Archimage spoke prayers and the mourners were required to sing hymns. Members of the Fire Chamber and foreign rulers ascended a podium to deliver speeches. Varencienne watched Ashalan and Neferishu closely. The Mewtish queen knew Merlan Leckery well and now it seemed that Ashalan might know Khaster. Ashalan looked tired, the ghost of a once handsome man, and his speech lacked feeling, but Neferishu spoke warmly, the force of her character bringing a spark of interest to otherwise dour proceedings. Then the talking was all over and the fire mages had formed a circle around the pyre. Cathedral officials stepped forward with ceremonial brands, and presently flames were beginning to lick round the tinder.
I don’t want to smell it, Varencienne thought. Must we sit here until he’s ash?
But it appeared the mourners’ sensibilities were catered for, because soon the Archimage was leading everyone back into the cathedral itself, while lesser priests burned bushes of rosemary in braziers to mask the stink of burning flesh. Inside the cathedral, a few more hymns were sung and prayers intoned before the grimacing countenance of Madragore’s idol. After that, the assembly filed out to waiting carriages and was conveyed back to the palace for the wake. As if the elements themselves were relieved the ceremony was over, the sun had begun to shine wanly through a gap in the clouds.
‘Mama, those ladies are staring at us,’ Ellony whispered to her mother. They had taken plates of food from the buffet and now sat on the outskirts of the empress’s entourage in the Great Hall of the palace. Varencienne had been hoping for an introduction to Queen Neferishu, but so far Gastern and Rinata had monopolised the Mewt’s attention. Merlan had kept his distance. Varencienne hadn’t even caught sight of him since they’d entered the hall. Now, she looked up from her plate and for a moment held her breath. The ladies in question were her two childhood friends, Carmia and Mavenna, familiar yet strangers. She waved to them discreetly, inviting them to approach. The two women exchanged a glance and then sailed over. Mavenna had put on a lot of weight, while Carmia had lost it. Strangely, they looked like caricatures of their younger selves.
‘What is wrong with you?’ Varencienne asked in what she hoped sounded like a light tone. ‘Are we now strangers that you avoid me?’
‘Oh Ren,’ Mavenna said, bending low to embrace her, ‘not at all. We felt it best to wait for your signal.’
Varencienne returned the embrace. ‘You should have come to visit me. I’ve been here several days.’
‘Well, when we had no word from youc’
‘Then we are all at fault. Please, sit down. Tell me your news. Both married now, I presume?’
Mavenna nodded. ‘Yes. I to Duke Ivan Thornamonte, Carmia here to Sir Geraint Mantipore, who is a Master of the Splendifers.’
‘You have married well, then.’ Looking at Carmia’s drawn face, Varencienne privately wondered about that.
‘Life has treated me – us – well,’ said Mavenna, directing her piercing gaze upon Ellony. ‘My, your children are lovely.’
Ellony was still pressed close to her mother, glaring at the woman in distrust, but Rav was nowhere to be seen. ‘Thank you. This is Ellony. Her brother Valraven is no doubt off exploring.’
Mavenna sat down and indicated for the silent Carmia to do likewise. ‘Well, my little rascal is probably with him. It’s good that children are welcome at these events nowadays. Your mother is responsible for many changes in the way women are viewed in Magrast.’
Varencienne smiled tightly. ‘I hope all her other changes are as pleasing.’
Mavenna gave her a shrewd glance, which she smothered quickly with a wide smile, patting down the foaming folds of her mourning gown. ‘So, how is life married to the Dragon Lord? – forgive my importunity!’
Varencienne smiled. Mavenna hadn’t changed. ‘Caradore is more than I could dared have hoped for. I’m very happy there.’
‘We should have written to one another,’ Mavenna said. ‘We must make sure we do so in future.’
‘Of course.’ Varencienne doubted that would happen. Her life in Caradore was another world to that of Magrast. She didn’t want any cross-overs. She leaned forward to peer round Mavenna. ‘How are you, Carmia? Have you any children?’
Carmia shook her head. ‘No, Madragore has not yet blessed us.’
‘Not for want of trying though is it, my dear,’ Mavenna said gently and then in a confidential tone to Varencienne. ‘Poor Carmia. Two still births.’
‘How dreadful. I’m so sorry.’
Carmia shrugged thin shoulders. She looked as if she wasn’t really there.
Varencienne’s spine tingled unaccountably and she turned quickly, to discover the attention of her mother upon her. The empress turned in her chair and the ladies seated around her seemed to fade into the background. ‘Duchess Thornamonte, Lady Mantipore, how wonderful you’ve found your old friend again! Knowing Ren, she probably didn’t send word to you that she was home.’
‘Mother, I...’ Varencienne began, but the empress drowned out her words with her commanding voice.
‘We must have a get together in my chambers in the next day or so. I’ll have my secretary arrange a date.’
‘That would be lovely, of course,’ Varencienne said, ‘but I intend to go home as soonc’
‘Ren, I haven’t seen you or the children for four years. I simply will not countenance you fleeing back to the country yet. You know, ladies, I believe she has quite forgotten what it’s like to be in genteel company.’
‘I assure you I haven’t,’ Varencienne said.
‘How can you neglect your old friends? You grew up together.’
‘We haven’t seen you since your wedding day,’ Mavenna said. ‘Come now, Ren, you should spend a little more time here. I’d adore to take you visiting. So many people would love to see you.’
‘Wellc’
‘Childhood friends are very important,’ Tatrini said. ‘Do Rav and Ellony have many friends?’
Varencienne thought it best not to mention that the twins spent most of their time with the servants’ children, running around the draughty corridors of Caradore, or out riding on the moors beyond the castle. ‘Of course they do.’
‘But the noble families all live so far apart, don’t they? It must be difficult for the children to see any other youngsters regularly.’
‘They’re quite content,’ Varencienne said, and then, putting a hand on her daughter’s head, ‘aren’t you, Ellie?’
Ellony nodded. ‘I miss home. I miss my pony, my kittens, my dog, and Aunt Everna.’
‘How charming!’ cooed Mavenna and then with a fawning glance at the empress, ‘but only animals for friends, it seems!’
‘Quite,’ said Tatrini. ‘For a girl, that is not too bad, for her mother and aunts can be excellent company, but for a boyc’ She shook her head. ‘You should be thinking about Rav’s future now, Ren. He’s seven years old.’
‘What? Are you suggesting he should enlist already?’
Tatrini laughed tightly. ‘Indeed not, as you know very well. But I have been giving the matter some thought. Rav is your beloved son, who you want near you, but he is also Valraven VI, the heir to Palindrake, and like it or not, destined to become part of Magravandian life. Surely, it would make sense for him to spend more time with his father, and to cultivate friends of his own age and status?’
‘Mother, what is this?’ Varencienne asked darkly.
Tatrini shrugged elegantly. ‘Well, Valraven will be stationed here in Magrast for the foreseeable future, won’t he? Why not let Rav stay here with him? You needn’t feel as if you’re losing him. You too could spend more time here. This is your home, after all, and conditions are changing. I’ve made sure that women have more freedom in the palace, and intend to expand upon this new circumstance.’
‘You are an inspiration to all of us,’ said Mavenna.
‘I’m not leaving Rav here,’ Varencienne said. ‘His home is in Caradore
, with his sister, his aunts and myself. Valraven was torn from his home and I do not intend to let that happen to his son.’
‘You make it sound as if life in Magrast is a torment,’ Tatrini said, ‘yet the evidence is clear that your husband thinks anything but that. At least speak to him about this.’
‘Valraven will be in accord with me over this matter.’
‘I hardly think so.’
‘You don’t know him.’
‘I know him enough.’
Mavenna made a sound of discomfort. ‘I would be happy to bring my own son to the palace to play with Rav.’
Varencienne sighed. She knew there was no point in continuing this argument. ‘It’s a matter for thought,’ she said, as if relenting.
‘I only have Rav’s best interests at heart,’ Tatrini said.
‘I know, mother.’
‘He could receive a proper education here, like your brothers did. The university now boasts tutors from Jessapur and Mewt, the greatest of thinkers and scholars. Some of Rav’s uncles are close to his own age. How can you deny him his rights to have friends, family and education?’
‘I will consider it,’ Varencienne said. ‘In fact, I ought to look for Rav. It’s been a tiring day.’
Ren! Really! He’s in the palace. What harm can come to him? Let him enjoy himself.’
That’s the last thing I want him to do, Varencienne thought.
Unaware of the discussion of his fate, Valraven Palindrake VI, was sitting beneath one of the long trestle tables, hidden by the table-cloth, in thrall to his uncle, Leonid. Leo had sought him out soon after everyone had arrived back at the palace. He was four years older than Rav, and seemed a worldly, knowledgeable boy. Rav had some older friends among the Caradorean servants – boys of ten to twelve years old - but still thought Leo talked like an adult, and was awed by it. The prince had led Rav beneath the tables, telling him it was the best way to eavesdrop on adult conversations. Rav wasn’t sure why they should want to do that, but complied, glamorised by Leo’s startling pale Malagash beauty and knowing eyes. The tables formed a maze of tunnels around the room. Voices above sounded remote and echoing. Rav had watched Leo all day, thinking of his own friends at home, who seemed coarse and immature in comparison. Rav had dared to fantasise what it would be like to have friends like Prince Leo, and perhaps even become a little like that himself. But he had been surprised rather than delighted when the prince had left his group of friends, all grown-up-looking and sophisticated, in order to introduce himself to his nephew. ‘Mother will summon us both to her chambers very soon,’ he said, ‘but I want to make your acquaintance first, without her.
Why? wondered Rav. He only grinned shyly and couldn’t think of anything to say.
You’ll meet Osmar and Parrish as well,’ Leo continued in a supercilious voice, ‘but they’re too much like Gastern. Boring. I am a true Malagash, like Almorante and Bayard. If you’ve got any sense, you’ll get me on your side. You will need powerful friends in Magrast, as your father did. Your future lies here, Valraven.’
These comments confused Rav. He could talk about the countryside, and horses, and also the sea, but this was alien territory to him.
Leo sighed at the lack of response. ‘Clearly, you need an education. You’ll get nowhere staying dumb.’ He laughed ‘In both senses.’
It had quickly become obvious that Rav had no idea that one day he would be expected to move to Magrast. In their hiding place, Leo had told him all about it. ‘Mother wants you here soon. She’s told me so. She thinks you should be educated here and be closer to your father. What do you think about that?’
Rav thought of the pomp and ceremony of the funeral, the noble Splendifers, the magnificent horses, the immense buildings, the important people. It was like something out of a story book. He thought also of his father, whom he adored above all other people. ‘I want to come,’ he said. Why hadn’t his mother told him about this?
‘Thought you would,’ Leo said. ‘Nobody wants to stay at home with the womenfolk. It’s no life for a man.’
Rav didn’t really know what Leo meant by that. He was rarely unhappy at home, and enjoyed the company of his friends and family, but here – this was something entirely different. If he’d been older, he’d have considered that a love of city life ran in his blood. He would feel as if he’d come home at last. But he was only a boy, who’d lived rather a wild, ungoverned and untutored life so far. He just wanted to be like Leo. All the Palindrakes were dark-haired and olive-skinned, but for him. Even Ellony, his twin, didn’t share his pale complexion. People were always commenting on it, which he found embarrassing. His Aunt Pharinet had once said to his mother, laughing, that if he and Ellie weren’t twins, she’d suspect Valraven wasn’t his father. His mother had laughed in return, while punching Pharinet light-heartedly on the arm, but the comment had hurt Rav deeply. Did it mean his father wouldn’t be pleased with him? He had tried to darken his face and hair with mud, but this act had not been met with approval by anyone. Here in Magrast, the royal family looked like him. He was one of them.
‘Does Mama know about this?’ he asked.
‘Varencienne?’ Leo pulled a scornful face. ‘She knows, but she’ll fight it. Mothers always want to cling onto their sons. Bayard told me that. You’ll have to tell your father what you want. He’ll understand.’
Rav could not imagine doing such a thing. The only time he saw his father was when Valraven came home on leave. Then they would go out riding together and visit ancient sites. Valraven would also take him to the homes of other noble families, where Rav was proud to be his son, feeling less like a child than on other occasions. He was always treated differently when he visited the same families with his mother. But it might be ages before the Dragon Lord came home again. He sighed deeply.
‘What’s the matter?’ Leo asked.
‘I don’t know when I’ll get to see Papa on his own.’
Leo blinked in apparent perplexity. ‘But he’s here, isn’t he?’
‘Well, yes.’
‘Then go and speak to him now.’
Rav thought of the important people who would no doubt be clustered around his father at this very moment. He knew it was bad manners to interrupt adults when they were talking.
Leo seemed to know what he was thinking. ‘You are the heir to Palindrake,’ he said. ‘Start acting like it.’ He crawled out from beneath the table cloth and Rav followed.
The Dragon Lord stood nearby with a group of people: Prince Gastern, his mean-faced wife, and a large, dark-skinned woman, from whom Rav couldn’t take his gaze. She was dressed in some shiny stuff of dark green, like serpent skin, and her hair hung in dozens of plaits to her waist. When she laughed, it was as if you could feel it in your stomach.
‘That’s Queen Neferishu of Mewt,’ Leo said, noticing Rav’s rapt attention. ‘Bayard said she’s the only weighty woman he’d ever consider taking to his bed.’
Again, this remark was lost on Rav, but he paid it no attention anyway. They were close to the group now, who were all looking at them. Perhaps it was because of Leo’s commanding presence.
‘Ah, this is one of my younger brothers, Prince Leonid,’ Gastern said to the foreign queen. ‘We call him Leo.’
‘Lion,’ said the queen, smiling. ‘Yes, he has the Malagash leonine look. The hair.’ She looked back to Gastern. ‘You shouldn’t hack yours off like that, you know. It’s such a waste.’
Gastern reddened, which made Rav smile. The crown prince uttered a few anguished and annoyed sounds, then wrenched at his collar. ‘I am not one for vanity.’
‘Indeed not,’ brayed his nasal-voiced wife.
Valraven too was smiling. He gestured towards his son. ‘This is Rav,’ he said to Neferishu, ‘my son and heir.’
‘Oh, he has your eyes,’ Neferishu said, ‘and his Malagash grandfather’s mouth and hair. Truly a potentially deadly combination.’
Rav now loved Neferishu as
a goddess. She had likened him to his father, the only person ever to have done that.
‘Hello Rav,’ said Neferishu. ‘When is your divine father going to bring you to Mewt then, eh?’
‘He’s only seven,’ Valraven said, then pondered for a moment, ‘but yes, in a few years, perhaps I could bring the whole family to Akahana. Varencienne has never seen it.’
‘You imply my beloved country is dangerous to young children,’ Neferishu said, although her voice was still full of smiles. ‘I should be insulted.’
‘I did not mean to imply that,’ Valraven said. ‘It’s just that I wasn’t sure whether the children would appreciate it properly yet.’
Neferishu rolled her eyes. ‘Then you know little of children. Anyway, even if that is the case, they can come again. I would like to meet Princess Varencienne.’
‘We will speak of this,’ Valraven said.
Leo, meanwhile, was nudging Rav painfully in the side with an elbow. For a moment, the adults were silent. Desperate to keep Leo’s respect, Rav squeaked, ‘Leo said I could come to Magrast.’
‘Well, of course,’ Valraven said. ‘You may come more frequently when you’re older.’
Leo clearly realised Rav wasn’t up to the task. ‘Mother says he should come to school here,’ he said.