David Tallerman - Prince Thief

I couldn’t be certain, for it was the briefest flicker, but I thought I saw something lift from Panchessa’s face then: a layer of weariness and pain slipping free. “Then,” he said, “I wish you luck, grandson.”

“Thank you, your highness,” replied Malekrin softly.

Panchessa nodded, once, as though acknowledging some sentiment that had passed unspoken between them. Then he said, “I will speak to my people now.”

He didn’t wait for a reply. Instead, he strode past us, to a point where he could be seen clearly from the walls. He looked around appraisingly, took in the gathered men, women and children, their hotchpotch weapons and their makeshift armour. He cleared his throat — and for a moment, I thought the short cough might turn into a choking fit, for he pressed a palm hard to his chest.

The moment passed. Panchessa took one more deep breath and cried, “People of Altapasaeda. It has been suggested to me, by a young man I have some measure of respect for, that your lives might be better spent than as fodder in a war not of your choosing. And if that fact might have meant little to me a week ago, now I find myself swayed. Therefore, I offer you peace… and to my grandson Malekrin, I grant the princeship of Altapasaeda. He may not want it, but a little responsibility will do him good. Let him see firsthand the trials of wielding power.”

Panchessa paused, then, gathered himself — and once again, his face darkened with the threat of anger. “However, all of this rests upon one condition: the woman named Kalyxis must leave your city now, and reclaim the force she has let loose in my lands. This is not open to dispute. I will not have invaders marching upon Ans Pasaedan soil. I brought an army to your walls, Altapasaedans, and I can do so again.”

For all his tough words, Panchessa’s voice had been fading throughout, the threat an outburst of coughing threading his speech like worms through old wood. Lifting his gaze one last time, he said, more firmly, “That’s it. You have been spared, Altapasaedans. Use your freedom wisely.”

Then Panchessa turned and, without another word, walked back the way he had come.

Half an hour later and the Pasaedan army was undeniably in retreat. The last regiments were falling back through the far hem of the Suburbs, and the distant back lines had even begun to collapse their tents.

By unspoken agreement, we had returned to the walls to watch. Now, however, Estrada turned away, a look of determination hardening her features. I’d seen that expression many a time, and been on the receiving end of it often enough; there was no question that it spelled trouble for someone.

When Estrada started in Kalyxis’s direction, I couldn’t resist falling in behind her. I had a sure feeling that this would be something I didn’t want to miss. Navare hurried to join us as well, though I suspected his motives were more well-intentioned than my own.

Rather than shove through the Altapasaedans still thronging the walk to watch their enemies depart, Estrada descended to the street and rejoined the wall by a second flight of stairs — so that when she came upon Kalyxis, the other woman was still staring down at the receding Ans Pasaedan lines.

“Kalyxis,” said Estrada, “you have to leave Altapasaeda now.”

Kalyxis looked round then. I’d never found her easy to read, but I couldn’t escape the conviction that the glint in her eye, her reaction to watching Panchessa leave with his armies in tow, was one of disappointment more than relief. But she recovered herself quickly, and her face was blank as a mirror as she said, “Do I? And walk into a trap?”

“If it’s a trap,” replied Estrada, “then yes, that’s exactly what you’ll do. But it isn’t — and I think you know that just as well as I do. If Panchessa truly wanted you dead then we’d all be dead by now.”

“So he’s a coward. So he would rather win through trickery than face his enemies in an honest fight.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“ Ridiculous ?” Kalyxis’s emphasis was fearsome.

Estrada, however, wasn’t cowed; in fact, her own tone only became more adamantine as she said, “Yes, ridiculous. Not to mention self-absorbed, egotistical and irrational. If you really care anything for your people, if you want to win their freedom, if you haven’t cooked up this entire conflict of yours because of a slight you suffered years ago, then this is the best and only chance you’ll ever have. Get out of here. Get word to the force you sent, before they do something you’ll regret. Start behaving like the leader you’re supposed to be.”

I was certain Kalyxis would go for her then — and though I’d seen enough to know that Estrada could hold her own in a fair fight, I doubted she’d fare so well with a few dozen Shoanish thrown into the equation and only Navare and myself to back her up.

Then Kalyxis relaxed, ever so slightly, eased her fingers with forced casualness away from the hilt of her sword. “I care everything for the people of Shoan,” she said, loud enough that any of her followers could hear. “There’s no risk I wouldn’t take for them… not even this.” Returning her attention to Estrada she added, with chilly disdain, “Now perhaps you’d be good enough to furnish us with a guide to this godsforsaken land of yours?”

In the end, Kalyxis had left through the small western gate. If I didn’t quite trust her to call off the attack on Pasaeda, there was some reassurance in the fact that Gailus departed with her as the requested guide, and more in the knowledge that with Panchessa’s great army marching rapidly northward, any attack upon the Ans Pasaedan capital would be nothing more than a messy suicide. The woman might be terrifying and vindictive beyond reason, but I’d come to suspect that she wasn’t quite as crazy as she might seem.

I saw that she said a few last words to Malekrin, though I wasn’t close enough to overhear just what passed between them. Perhaps Panchessa had settled their differences more ably than either of them could, for she had to leave and he had to stay, and the price if either resisted would undoubtedly be war.

Afterwards, seeing Malekrin looking lost and aimless, I pressed my way through the crowd that had gathered to watch Kalyxis go and said, “You look like a man in need of a drink.”

Malekrin turned, startled. Then his brow furrowed. “I still remember what happened the last time you bought me a drink.”

I grinned, to hide my embarrassment; I’d practically forgotten about drugging him. “I promise that any passing out you do with be entirely your own fault,” I said.

“You could have warned me, you know,” Malekrin said.

He was no longer talking about that day in Midendo, I realised. “What, and miss your expression? I tell you, it made all of this worthwhile. Now will you come drink, or are you too royal now to mix with the likes of me?”

Malekrin made a show of considering. Then, with a perfectly straight face, he said, “I’m going to have to learn to mingle with the common folk, aren’t I? I suppose you’re as good a place to start as any.”

As we wandered back through Altapasaeda, I left Malekrin to his own thoughts. For all his show of good cheer, it wasn’t hard to see the apprehension bubbling beneath the surface. Anyway, I felt a little guilty at my duplicity — for in fact it had been Estrada who’d asked me to seek him out, and asked too that I bring him to the Dancing Cat once Kalyxis was safely gone. Still, I reasoned, the drinking part had been all my idea, and at least I’d meant it honestly.

The streets felt alive for the first time in days. There were carts and horses, and a great many people moving hither and thither on foot, all of them travelling at speed. It wasn’t entirely clear what everyone was doing; most seemed to be hurrying purely for the sake of it. Perhaps it was simply a process of waking up, I thought — the whole of Altapasaeda stretching like a bear that had roused after a long, cruel winter.