Bright Thrones

  So it came as a more sudden and staggering blow when her own twin, Jessamy, showed up not long after, streaked with dust and wearing her usual cockily triumphant smile. Bettany hadn’t been able to see the Fives court from the back, so she’d missed the action. Her own twin was traveling in the company of the lord who had destroyed their family, just so she could run the Fives!

  How could she?

  How could she!

  Had Jes no self-respect? No care for all the Efeans who suffered under Saroese rule? For their mother’s pain? Did she think of anything except her ambition to become an Illustrious, a champion of the Fives?

  Obviously not. She was just like their father.

  Because he was brilliant, Agalar figured out that Jes, too, was one of her sisters. They did look much more alike than she and Amaya. As Bettany watched from her place in the shadows, he tried to buy both Jessamy and Amaya from Lord Gargaron with the excuse that he wanted to study them as “mules.” He moved so differently amid the highborn from how he walked among the sick and dying. Beside Lord Gargaron he was all edges, eyes perpetually narrowed. Among his patients the arrogance fell away to reveal, beneath it, a compassionate anger that reminded her of her own. If anger could heal, then all the world would be a glorious flower garden. But instead it was this pit of misery, and she hated it.

  Clearly Lord Gargaron enjoyed the company of a man as supercilious as himself.

  “Would you consider joining me for a midday feast in the much cooler and more pleasant garden of my house?” he asked Agalar.

  All this time she had not taken her gaze from Agalar, so the moment he glanced at Pearl and Pearl gave a tiny nod, truly startled Bettany. For all that he threw around orders in a high-handed lordly fashion, Lord Agalar did exactly as he pleased up to the point Pearl put a stop to it. Strange she hadn’t realized before this that Pearl was in charge.

  In charge of what?

  Frustrated at the information she lacked and enraged that her sisters seemed perfectly content as part of Gargaron’s retinue, she made her way down the stairs of the Fives court and hurried to get into the carriage with Agalar. Once the door was shut and they were alone in the darkness she turned to him without considering her tone.

  “Jes was rude, and Amaya as coyly impertinent as ever!”

  “Is that what you think?” The smell of sweet wine wafting from him made her lick her lips. “I thought Amaya was brilliantly cunning. She was shocked to be called a mule in public in such a way, yet she brazened it out without the slightest sign of fear and convinced Gargaron that I was mistaken. As for Jessamy, her performance on the Fives court was astonishing. I do not fault her for throwing my own rudeness back into my face. Are you not proud of your sisters?”

  “I don’t understand why they work so hard to be acceptable to people who will never accept them for what they are. Do they really think they won’t be thrown back into the gutter once a lord like Gargaron is done with them?”

  “Not everyone has a choice. Would you blame a drowning person for clinging to a spar in the storm-tossed ocean when there is no raft in view?”

  “You’re too kind!”

  “Am I?” His tone suddenly had the acid of poison. “I don’t think so.”

  His anger shocked her, succeeded at once by exasperation that he was quarreling with her. She kept pushing, forcing a different subject. “It’s like Pearl gave you permission to accept Gargaron’s invitation. But you are the lord, aren’t you?”

  He crossed his arms and said nothing.

  “Why are you here? Why have you remained at the mines for so many months only to suddenly abandon all that work with the arrival of Lord Gargaron? You aren’t here to study diseases and injuries. That’s just your excuse, isn’t it?” She paused, knowing she should stop. But she had to learn the truth. “You’re here for the gold. You’re thieves!”

  “The correct term is mercenaries for hire.” His breathing was like her own pulse: quivering as on the edge of a cliff. “Are you going to turn us in?”

  “To Gargaron? In exchange for what? The reward of being sent back to the mines?” She laughed curtly. “I hope you steal all his gold. The only thing that concerns me is saving my companions and my sisters.”

  He grabbed her hands. His grip was strong and yet he was a man with such delicate control—needed for surgery—that he did not squeeze too hard.

  “Beauty,” he breathed. “Bettany. You must make a choice. Stay here in Akheres with your people, or ask Pearl and the crew to admit you as a member.”

  The words made her sit back in surprise. He released her at once, and at once she wished he had not. Years of living with a father who had drummed into his daughters that they must avoid the company of men who would make rude and insulting propositions to girls like them had left her hesitant to reach out, for that would be deemed bold. She wanted Agalar to respect her, not to think her an opportunist ready to jump at the chance to win him over because he was a lord.

  “What does ‘admit me as a member’ mean?”

  “It means you could leave Efea with them, when they go.”

  “Don’t you understand that I’m now legally a slave? I can’t leave Efea without Garon Palace’s permission. I would become a fugitive, condemned to death should I be caught. Maybe I should have pretended to be dead with the others.…”

  She trailed off as he dug into his doctor’s bag, withdrew a folded sheet of papyrus, and thrust it into her hands.

  “What is this?”

  He gestured as if he could not trust himself to speak.

  She unfolded it and read. The words made her as dizzied as the poison air of the mine. She no longer belonged to Garon Palace.

  “Lord Gargaron can’t touch you.”

  Her gaze lifted to meet his. A flush darkened his pale skin, and he snatched the deed of transfer out of her hands and tucked it back into the bag.

  “No one will touch you.”

  She didn’t want his protection and yet she was flattered by it. She’d never grovel for his attention and yet the way he looked at her made her heart swell as with light.

  He drew back sharply. “No one. Not me. Not anyone. Beauty…”

  Whatever he meant to say went unsaid as the carriage rumbled to a halt. They had arrived at the Garon Villa.

  Agalar was escorted away while Bettany went with the others to the kitchen pavilion. She could not concentrate, could not sit still, wanted to pace but knew it would draw scrutiny. Amaya glided into the dining shelter where the servants congregated and looked right at her as if they had never met before, as if they hadn’t fought and laughed their entire lives up to now. But there were too many listening ears—all the Garon servants would carry tales—so Bettany sat alone at a table and opened up the scribe’s box, pretending to work. She waited for Amaya to find an excuse to join her. Instead Denya appeared, looking frantic, and Amaya turned her back on Bettany and left.

  She had turned herself into a servant for them. It was disgusting.

  No longer hungry, Bettany bent over her work and did not notice that her twin had come into the shelter until the most familiar voice in the world said, too loudly, “I’m going outside to eat under the trees.”

  Bettany waited just long enough that everyone had gone back to their conversations before slipping out after her twin. The villa was surrounded by a wall. Inside, as in every Efean courtyard, were planted trees, shrubs, herbs, and flowers. Jessamy was hiding behind the trunk of a massive sycamore, part of a row lining one of the decorative paths. Hearing Bettany’s footsteps, she stepped out to greet her.

  Bettany hadn’t meant to grab hold of her sister, but her heart had its own volition. She wrapped her arms around Jes, scarcely able to breathe. Her twin was alive. Was healthy. Was strong.

  “I thought I’d lost you,” Jes said into her ear, voice thick with emotion.

  She wasn’t the one who was lost! Her sisters were the confused and lost ones, but she had so little time to convince Jes of the truth before
someone came looking for her.

  “I didn’t think I’d find you with Lord Gargaron. And Amaya too! I suppose she couldn’t bear to be separated from Denya.”

  “You knew about her and Denya?”

  “Everyone but you and Father knew about Denya, Jes. You’re oblivious to anything except the Fives.” Maybe if she shook Jes hard enough she would pay attention for once. “Listen! I convinced Agalar to buy you and Amaya from Gargaron.”

  Jes stiffened, like the words were an insult rather than a miraculous rescue. “That’s not going to happen.”

  Bettany wanted to scream at her but screaming never worked on Jes. “You have to come with me.”

  “I’m an adversary now.”

  “It’s always the Fives with you, isn’t it?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with me wanting to be an adversary.”

  Could she really not see? She might as well be colluding with the enemy. “Except that you are running for a Patron master.”

  “I could ask the same of you! Why are you with Lord Agalar? Where are the household servants? Are they condemned to the mines? Did anyone die?”

  “We all survived the trip, if that’s what you mean. Do you know what they use women and children for at the mines?”

  Bettany recognized that shut-down look on Jes’s face, the kind she got when she didn’t want to hear something she didn’t want to know.

  “Hauling rock?”

  “Yes, hauling baskets of debris out of places too narrow for men to get into, but also as rewards for the guards.”

  Even Fives-obsessed Jes couldn’t claim to not know what that meant. “Oh gods, Bett…”

  “We were spared that because of Agalar.” If only she could get Jes to understand, then she would see why staying with the enemy made her an accessory to their cruelty. “He was already at the mining village, studying injuries, as you must have heard. When we arrived the supervisor asked him to inspect all the prisoners. So when I was brought to him and saw he was a foreigner, I begged him to save me and the others. And he agreed.”

  “Why would he agree? Did he want you for himself? He called you Beauty. Like a dog.”

  “He gives all his people nicknames. It’s just his way.” As a smile tugged up her lips she looked away so Jes wouldn’t see and misinterpret.

  “What aren’t you saying?” Jes demanded.

  They had gone through so much together: the giggling adventures when they were little; the fights as they grew older, as Jes embraced the Fives and Bettany began to hate the ugly world in which they lived with all its hypocrisy and misery. Yet how badly she wanted Jes to understand her and the choice she had made, and why it was the right choice. The only choice.

  “I was desperate, so I tried to impress him. I said he should choose a girl like me to be his assistant, that I knew a great deal about herbs and medical care and also that I could take care of household tasks for him.…” Would Jes judge her? “I said I would do whatever he wanted if he would save the people I came with. It seemed better than the alternative.”

  Jes grabbed her hand, her fierce gaze like pure, cleansing water. “It’s not your fault, Bett. It was really courageous of you. What did he say?”

  Bettany described all that had happened as quickly as she could. Of course Jes stared at her with a sour, skeptical frown as she tried to convince her of Agalar’s brilliance and empathy. “When he took me on as an assistant, they all thought he meant he was taking me as a lover but it isn’t like that, Jes. It isn’t.”

  “Then what is it like?” Jes asked in a flat voice. As if she didn’t believe her!

  “Beauty?” Pearl called from the kitchen gate. “Are you out here?”

  She grabbed Jes’s shoulder. “When the mine accident happened we took advantage of the disorder and got all of Mother’s people put on the wagons for the injured and dead. They are at the hospital here in town, pretending to have died from poisoned air.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “You saved them!”

  “Them and myself.” Jes was still staring at her as if she’d grown wings and horns, as if she couldn’t believe her twin could manage any bold action on her own. “Are you angry I stole your chance to rescue us?”

  “Of course not! Why would you even say that?”

  “Beauty?” Pearl had a tone that sounded pleasant but was actually an order. “We’re leaving.”

  There wasn’t time to fight out all their ancient battles. The only thing that mattered was rescuing the household, for the sake of her companions and also because she had to discharge her obligation to her mother. “I was joking! Anyway, I haven’t saved them yet. They could still be discovered at the hospital.”

  “Where do they take the dead?”

  “There are tombs outside of town, in the desert. But without water and food they’ll die, and this oasis is so isolated they can’t possibly walk anywhere without help. I have no reason to think anyone here would assist us. Agalar only knows the Patrons who run things, the mine supervisor and those sort of people. Of course they’ll just turn them back over to Gargaron.”

  Jes nodded briskly. She hadn’t any subtlety, not like Amaya or Maraya. It was easy to see the wheels of thought racing as she considered, discarded, and then grabbed for a possible solution. “I have an idea, but I don’t know if it will work. Will you be going to the hospital later?”

  “Yes. He has surgeries to do.”

  “I’ll find a way to come to the hospital tonight. Have our people ready to go.” She gave Bettany a kiss on the cheek.

  It was so typically Jes: so sure of herself, so oblivious to anything that wasn’t in her field of vision.

  “I’ll be impressed if you can actually pull something off.” Yet she had to rescue her sisters too. That would be the hardest rescue of all, because Amaya and Jes still believed there was a chance for them to make a life with their Patron overlords. And she couldn’t tell them the truth of what was going on. “Why won’t you and Amaya run away and come with me, so we can all be together?”

  “That’s sweet of you, Bett. But Amaya and I have things to do here.”

  “But Jes—” If she said too much, she’d give away Agalar’s plans for the gold, and the Saroese authorities would kill him.

  “Beauty,” called Pearl again.

  “Never mind.” She gave her twin a kiss and hurried away.

  As she climbed into the carriage, Agalar greeted her with an apologetic smile, clearly upset that he hadn’t been able to rescue her stubborn sisters. Only then did she realize she had no intention of going back to her old life and the family she’d grown up with. Not now. Not ever.

  7

  Lord Gargaron, ignorant of all that was transpiring, asked Agalar to accompany him on his journey south across the desert to the coast. Agalar’s entire reason for being on the mission was to ingratiate himself with the Saroese lords who controlled the gold. Now he was to ride south with the very gold shipment their crew had been hired to steal. He felt for the first time that he and his sister might escape the chain that bound them to Lord Agalar of Nerash, who had been their master for so long and whose death mastered them still.

  If he could survive the desert crossing and retrieve his sister from her hiding place, then perhaps beyond all expectation and hope they could rescue their mother and younger brother.…

  But no. Don’t reach ahead. Take each part of the operation as it comes.

  He had no chance to be involved in the final act of the companions’ rescue because the Fives-running sister convinced some of the locals to convey Bettany’s companions to the tomb valley as if they were corpses. From there they would be smuggled away to freedom.

  For the first stage of the journey Lord Gargaron also visited the tomb valley in order to pay his respects to his deceased uncle’s tomb. As Gargaron’s guest, Agalar was required to take a meal with him and the highborn priests in the inner temple. The sumptuous feast dragged on and on as he fretted because he could figure out no good excuse to go look
ing for Bettany that wouldn’t be suspicious. What if she took the opportunity to escape with her companions, the people she knew and trusted? He would never see her again.

  Finally the smothering heat of midafternoon broke up the party as the men retired to take a nap. Agalar padded back to the servants’ quarters. The barracks and courtyard to which the Shipwrights had been assigned was as silent as the grave, everyone asleep. He wasn’t sure where she would be napping, and regardless any intrusion to her bedside would be invasive. For years he had watched his mother accept demeaning treatment in exchange for food and shelter for her children and he refused to be like those men.

  Maybe Beauty was already gone. A sick dizziness rushed through him.

  Then, within the quiet, his ears caught the sound of rustling papyrus.

  He found Pearl in the shade of an arbor, going through his scribe’s box. She’d found the transfer of ownership where he’d hidden it beneath the lower drawer.

  “Were you going to tell me about this?” She held it up as if it were a mark of shame.

  “There wasn’t time. We left so abruptly.”

  “What makes you think you’re doing her a favor? If you think a few words written on a piece of paper mean anything to a girl with no family or protector in a violent world, then you fool yourself.”

  “I don’t think that!” he cried, ashamed because of course he had thought that.

  “Don’t you understand she must now feel obligated to you? That she knows she owes her freedom to your intervention? Obligation binds people in ways as insidious as slavery. She may feel she has no choice but to—”

  “No! That’s not what I want.”

  “You’re in love with her, even as you pretend to be acting out of noble motives.”

  Her words hurt because they were true. “I haven’t touched her. You know that.”

  “I do know that. And I know she has made herself liked among our crew. We might well vote to admit her into our ranks if only there wasn’t this legal issue as regards her freedom to accept any offer we made.”

  He snatched the document out of her hand, softened the brush, and dabbed ink stick against inkstone. With more haste than proper technique, he wrote: