Мерседес Лэки - Passages

Suddenly nervous and hearing Sae’s voice in her head, urging her to make conversation, not awkward silence, Imra grabbed two mugs from the sink, filled two tea strainers and poured hot water into both. Reyis stirred his own tea, dunking the strainer into the steaming water a few times.

“This smells as wonderful as everything else. Is this new? Merelyn rarely makes tea.”

“I brought this with me. I used to make it at—” She stopped herself, before she said “the Collegium.”

“At?”

Imra shrugged it off. “So, the speech.”

“Oh, that.” Reyis sighed and hung his head. “I’d held in my frustration as long as I could at Connak’s declaration. And when I found out he’s been out of town since having his lackeys hammer that notice up—”

“Who is this Connak?” Imra interrupted, and then felt her face grown warm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even know this place existed until today, so I don’t know much about it. I don’t know what kind of government you have, who the leader is, or how this place came to be.”

“You say that as if it was a failing.”

“I—” she hesitated. “I used to travel a lot. To think this place was here—”

“Oh, we’re not hiding ourselves,” Reyis stirred his tea and set the spoon to the side. “Or we’re not trying to. We have things to sell and need a tourist trade. The way the we do things now is we ship to Polsim and sell there. But it would be easier if they came here.”

“So why don’t you advertise? Have the name of the town placed on road signs. Word of mouth—or word of Bard?”

Reyis held up his tea in front of his lips, the steam curling into his bangs that stuck out from his forehead. “Because Connak insists we’re better off keeping the village secretive and closed.” He laughed. “He would hate to know you’re here.”

Imra sat up. “Why?”

“Because you’re an outside influence. Like I said, we’ve had the occasional traveler, but they’re ushered out of town quickly. The only difference with you, the only reason I even stuck my neck out and got on that podium, was because the son of a donkey isn’t here.”

“Where is he?”

“His henchmen said he went to Haven to beg the Queen for a Herald. The surface irrigation has become an issue, and he believes a Herald can assure the villagers he’s right that we need to tax its use so that we can keep the town thriving. It was a Herald that originally set up the system several years ago, back when we had that bad drought. And those same conditions are coming up again. Only thing is, no one was prepared for him to actually shut off the water.”

“He shut it off?”

“Yeah.” Reyis sipped his tea, smacked his lips and sipped more. “This is good.”

“Keep going. This is getting to my original question. Who is this Connak? How did he shut it off?”

“I’ll answer that in reverse order. He shut it off by secretly building stopgaps on the channels. And he keeps them shut off by hiring muscle to prevent anyone from removing them. As for who he is—” Reyis shrugged. “He’s one of the remaining descendants from the Hold that built this village. The original family had the name Carnei, but Connak doesn’t. The family’s always been in charge of governing the village even after the Hold lost its fortune and those inside moved to seek new lives here. The Hold’s still there, and the other relative is there. They’re a recluse, and no one ever sees them. Merelyn still sends supplies to them because she’s also a relative, but it’s a distant one.”

“Is there no actual governing body? Like a council or eldership?”

“Oh, yes, there is a council of seven, with Connak being that seventh member. He breaks the ties, and pretty much controls the votes. He has the most wealth in the village, and in truth he has done a lot for us, including brokering the deal that allows us to sell our wares in Polsim.”

Imra rubbed at her chin. “That sounds a bit . . . fishy.”

“Don’t it?” Reyis grinned. “But what are you gonna do? He has the majority.”

“So why don’t the people, if they feel that strongly, just vote in a real mayor or leader? Someone not connected to the family or wealth? Someone that would more easily unite the village instead of divide it?”

“Because,” Merelyn said as she and Izli came into the kitchen. Izli moved to the stew and started putting together a tray for the guest. “The town hasn’t carried a vote since Connak took over.”

“So only the council makes decisions?” Imra looked from Merelyn to Reyis.

“Yes,” Reyis sipped more tea.

“And who votes in the council?”

Merelyn broke a loaf into fourths and placed a piece on the tray. “Connak. The council changed when he came in and announced his place. He displaced the ones the Herald set up with his own loyalists.”

So he went to get a Herald to back up his demands? The man would have a rude awakening. Any Herald would insist on seeing the original agreements the previous Herald set out as voice of the Queen and would see the events of the past years had become a power grab. There was no reason for Connak to bring in a Herald, because they could actually unseat him.

She said as much. Izili delivered the meal and came back to listen.

“The Queen has called in as many Heralds as she can,” Imra said. “There’s no way that even if he sent in a request, one would get here in time to sow the seeds.”

“You know a lot about the court,” Reyis said. “Are you from Haven?”

“I—” Imra swallowed. She shrugged. “I listen. It’s just about all I’m good for these days.”

“I’d say that’s a big fat lie,” Merelyn said, making Imra look at her sharply. “Look what you did for me and this room.” She gestured around. “In one day, you showed me this kitchen is not my enemy, but it’s a room where I can build wonderful food. Yes . . . it’s still going to take time for me to learn and understand spices and baking chemistry, but I’m not afraid of it anymore.”

Reyis lifted his tea. “Here, here. There has never been a better meal come out of this kitchen. And if she can repeat it tomorrow, and the day after, this inn’s food will overtake the popularity of the tavern.”

Izli laughed. “I hope so. Connak owns that place.”

Imra pursed her lips. “You said there was still someone at the original Hold? Do they see visitors?”

Izli answered first. “She does.”

“And how do you know that, young lady?” Merelyn asked sharply.

“Because I visit her all the time. Oh, don’t be like that, Mother. She’s nice, and I do things around the place. It’s just her and a single servant.” She looked at Imra. “If you’re ready for a bit of a walk, I can introduce you.”

“Lead on,” Imra said, winking at Merelyn before she followed the girl out of the kitchen.

They were met at the door of the old Hold by a stooped man Izli called Goat. Imra thought at first she was being rude, until he said it was indeed his name—and that the lady of the Hold was expecting them.

The place had definitely seen better days, Imra was sure. Izli explained that parts of the place were closed off. Only those Aerus and Goat lived in were open.

Aerus. Why was that name so familiar?

Aerus Carnei was a small, frail-looking woman. Her shoulders were rounded with age, and her white hair was neatly groomed into a braid that draped over her left shoulder. But strong determination twinkled in her eyes. She greeted them with a warm smile and insisted they sit with her by the fire while Goat fetched them tea. She commented on how nice Izli looked today, then turned her attention to Imra. “You look very familiar to me.”