“So, let me get this right,” Sal said, “Esmetherelda rescued herself from her cage, you got her out of the barn, and within half an hour you'd handed her her sari?”
“A bit longer.” Hal corrected, “And that was so she wouldn't be embarrassed.”
“But you'd already declared you wanted to marry her?”
“Of course. I was going there to try to woo her anyway, remember?”
“And bring back a peace treaty,” grumbled king Val.
“I did bring back a peace treaty, father.”
“That's not a peace treaty, it's an invitation to war with Tew.”
“We've got one of those already,” Esmetherelda said, mildly. “We thought it was only fair to give you a chance to come too.”
“On the arrival of rumours that my brother has indeed died, your majesty,” Yalisa said, “I would like to say that the idea of not being in control of the Tew warmongers, sorry, generals, very much appeals. It means I'll have more time for solving important issues that Tew faces, like water and food supply.”
“Water?” Esmetherelda asked.
“Yes, water. The miners want it to separate their ores, and the people want to drink it. That's one reason father was after the Twen.” The Twen valley was a mining region and traditional battle-front between Tew and Caneth. Most of the time it had been part of Caneth, with the border along the mountain ridge that the Twen was at the foot of.
“I didn't know it was about water. I thought it was just expansion to claim our mines there.”
“Well, that too,” Yalisa said. “But if the Twen was ours, we'd be able to shift processing there, and drinking from the Tewel wouldn't be as dangerous.”
“There are other ways of processing metals than poisoning people.” Esme said.
“I know. But most of them mean reduced extraction ratios. That's the other option. Of course Tesk allegedly know some other processes, but they see it as a national secret they want to use as an income source to spend on their defence budget.”
“Which is already needlessly crippling them,” Esme said. “Hayeel, you want to say something?”
“Your majesties,” Hayeel bowed formally to Val and Thena, “You do not realise this is foretold.” And then she quoted the public version of the prophecy. “Esme's father did not know about the prophecy, but when I told him of it he smiled, and said, 'God keeps his promises.' I am here to seek out the noble woman that the prince should marry, yes thank you Bethania, we don't know it's me until prince Salay tells me the whole of the uncensored version, but the snatches my husband-in-name told me do match me, depending on things like whether being an ambassador or having a grandmother who claimed to have been born with a noble title counts as me being a noble.”
“Why do you call him that?” Thena asked.
“Because after we were given new titles and told we were husband and wife, he asked about my past, and he realised that he had been the direct cause of my parents' deaths, and hated himself for it. He would not tell me what made him turn from me, and not touch me. But I didn't like him much either.”
“But you married him.”
“No. Neither of us was already married, so a soulless civil service process looked at roles I had said I would accept three years earlier, saw it said 'any', because I had been desperate and didn't think that effectively made me a slave until later. They felt I had done very well as teacher, and wished to send me, with a high position. They did not believe that a woman might be considered ambassador in her own right, so they gave me what was highest post they could give me. And so someone probably looked at a list, and I was assigned to the most honourable position of wife of ambassador. He was assigned to be ambassador. So, naturally, I was his wife. I could have requested 'any honourable position that leaves my personal life my own', but I was ignorant, and didn't.”
“And that's still on your file?”
“I really don't know. I wonder if the prince has thought to change it.”
“Most honourable prince, I humbly thank you for coming,” the grand vizier said.
“Your spoke of a problem?”
“There are no problems, honourable highness, only issues to be resolved.”
“I'm glad, grand vizier. What issues?”
“The status of the wife of the late ambassador to Caneth, highness.”
“If they accept her as such, she is lady ambassador, grand vizier. I have sent her the seal and commission by my own hand.”
“Ah, highness, there is no such post.”
“Then please advise me, grand vizier, what post it is that a lady occupies who carries out the functions and authority of an ambassador.”
“Widow of ambassador?”
“A status that is temporary, is it not?”
“Until a replacement ambassador can be sent, yes, highness.”
“I have been informed by her late husband-in-name that the marriage was never consummated, and that she is a believer in the saviour. I have written to her promising that there will be no replacement sent.”
“Then... what is to be her role?”
“For the moment, Lady Ambassador, grand vizier. I am sure you can create such a role. I also wish it on record that her role shall never drop lower than royally appointed teacher unless she is severely reprimanded, and even then only with royal decree. Also that her role shall always be in complete alignment with the dictates of her faith. Some confirmation will be necessary, but it may be that she shall rise to the role of wife of crown prince and later, of course, empress.”
“The daughter of a slave and a foreigner?” the grandvizier exclaimed.
“How else can she be the one spoken of in the prophecy, grand vizier? She needs a lot of Tesk blood to have the gift of knowing thoughts. Learn to think kindly towards her. Have you looked into her background? I have, it is fascinating.”
“Fascinating, highness. Her father was a trader, her mother a slave.”
“Her mother was a slave, it is true. But her grandmother? Reduced to slavery from the nobility, for a crime as a child that she probably didn't commit. Your predecessor apparently decided that, it having been so long ago, there was no point trying to locate her to restore her freedom, rank and title.”
“But there should at least have been a note on her file?”
“None. Perhaps the file itself was not found. So, assuming her husband did not lie, the Lady Ambassador is indeed a noble virgin born of a slave. Hence my decree that she be treated with all honour.”
“I obey, highness.”
“Good. What can you tell me about the process of annulling an unconsummated marriage, of restoring a title removed as a result of a miscarriage of justice, and of what ought to happen when an official oversteps his authority so badly as happened in the case of her father?”
“The overstepping of authority resulted in the official's demotion, highness.”
“His demotion from a minor port official to where a only a few years later he was raised to be my ambassador? I am not amused, not one bit. A man who allowed his rage to gain such control should never have been considered for an appointment to ambassador.”
“His retraining was to have been to an internal position, highness. I do not understand what happened.”
“I do. His records were separated, probably bribes were paid, or strings were pulled, so that those appointed to check his records found only his application to join the service, which was not marked as a reapplication. If records are not being correctly filed and entered, the system is worse than useless. I have personally investigated thus far, and have confirmed with the investigators from my staff that they did not see the records. There will be records within your department that states who removed and who refiled his records. I would like to hear from you within one week about direct suspects, and within two what legal action is being taken against those responsible for the failings within the civil service. Here is the precise instruction, with my father's approval. But my question remains. The family suffered the wrongful death of the father, the confiscation of property, followed by the confiscation of their mother! Who was responsible for this? What procedures were followed or not. What form of restitution was considered appropriate, how was it made, or more likely, why was it not made, and who made that decision.
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"When I next write to the Lady Ambassador Hayeel I wish to know, and when I speak to her personally I wish to be able to fully answer her each and every question in total and absolute detail.”
“I understand, highness.”
“Good. Restoration of title removed by a miscarriage of justice?”
“Is a matter for your honourable father, highness.”
“Father has not received the paperwork detailing the case, or your recommendations for just recompense. The case notes are in your archive of 'miscarriages of justice, do not bother his majesty.' I was amazed that such an archive exists, as was my honourable father. Its very existence is of course a slur on his honour. He has agreed to make the case of Duchess Taheena the first case he considers. He will then allocate one half hour per work day until there are no more miscariages of justice you or your predecessors did not deem sufficiently important to bother him or grandfather with.”
“With respect, highness, that will take years.”
“You mean decades. I do not consider that to be an excuse to deny justice. I find it incredibly strange that you and your predecessors have investigated these miscarriages, but not actually acted on them.”
“It is a function of the law to investigate, so that the guilty parties may be punished, highness. Restitution of past mistakes for the indirectly affected...” he shrugged, “it has not been as important.”
“Slavery or nobility is not important?”
“What does a slave know of nobility, highness? Would someone raised from so low flourish? Would they not, rather, constantly suffer deprecating insults and subtle slurs, from those of crude mind and thought?”
The implication that the grand vizier did not approve of Hayeel was entirely plain to Salay, but he did not need to issue direct threats. “I have no doubt you will defend my honour by rigourously prosecuting any who dare such a thing, grand vizier. As, of course, insulting a member or prospective member of the royal family is a good way to see if the noble or high civil servant in question can flourish as a slave.”
“Highness...”
“The man who was sent to find a woman who matches the criteria of the prophesy, became convinced that she was almost a perfect match.”
“Almost is not perfect, highness.”
“Since the gift is not developed without the catalyst, and the catalyst is in the possession of the King of the far Isles, it is impossible for her to have been a perfect match.”
“But there must be hundreds of others with this gift, highness.”
“Enquires have been made. There are very very few. Tesk has not had any with the gift since they broke away, presumably as a punishment for their rebellion. The catalyst is clearly closely guarded, but Caneth is known to be allied with the Isles, and so hopefully as my ambassador she can discover what would be needed to arrange to encounter it. Until she has been proven not the woman of the prophesy, or found another candidate, to my mind she is a prospective member of the royal family.”
“And to your honourable father?”
“My honourable father honours my optimism, grand vizier, but wisely denies me permission to catch a ship to talk to her until at least she has written of her present situation and state. Based on the letter from her late husband-in-name then the soldiers are unlikely to return to the central zone until spring.”
My prince, I don't know if I will find another ship going to Dahel before the winter. Six weeks in each direction is so long! I so long to hear from you, but even if I do, you will be writing before getting a single one of my letters. This is number six, my prince, in case one of the others is lost or delayed.
Three weeks of travel is also tiring, unless you are as in love with the sea as princess Yalisa. We are almost in Caneth. The Albatross and the Skua (prince Sal's ship) lead the way. Half a day behind us, so Esmetherelda can reassure everyone that it's not an invasion, half of the fleet of the Isles will come. King Val has agreed, and the entire royal family come (on different ships) to be at this wedding which will wed the two states. King Val has made one change though: the common defence pact will be signed as soon as he gets to Caneth, the vague intention of long-term unity will be mentioned in that pact, the purpose: to ensure peace and the permanent end of hostilities will be made clear. It will be agreed that Hal and Esmetherelda will on their wedding become arbiters of all disputes between Caneth and the Isles, and that they will be able to call on the armed forces of either side, and also that the arrangement will be open to other nations to join. Further details are acknowledged as too complicated to be resolved quickly, and the results of the request to the Tesk academy are awaited eagerly.
To facilitate official communication across the crowded harbour, Tesk academics long ago developed what are called the talking rhythms. Messages can be sent by flag or an expert with a drum, or just a big stick and a barrel. Slower, but much longer range than shouting unless both parties have king Val's lungs and everyone knows to shut up when a someone shouts 'ahoy'. And so it was that two and a half days ago we sailed close to the island, and with a well-practiced hand, prince Hal formally invited 30 members of the Tesk parliament to his wedding next week and meetings beforehand, to meet all six of us with the gift. He also told them it seems like the catalyst takes four or five hours to have full effect when it had any, and if they wanted to they could bring up to thirty young woman with good faith and good sense, below thirty years old to the wedding and a conference. OK, yes, a ball if they insisted. Of course women could bring their husband, kids too, but the seven ships from the isles coming to port soon only had seven cabins apiece, so they'd assumed the girls would be sharing. But there could be space in the hold if enough barrels of eels were sold. I don't think I said — one of the main export-fish of the Isles is eels, caught in the marshes, but Tesk has no marshland.
So, there will be a ball at the wedding, and I must attend. I intend to be what they call a wallflower, a woman who looks on, smiles prettily, and does not accept any invitation to dance. Esmetherelda tells me that if I do not dance, she will invite Taheela and her husband.
'Do! They will be delighted, I'm sure. I'll look after their son and play catch the baby if Taheela goes into labour.' But I will not need to play catch, I see them, all four, at the quayside. So maybe I'll hold the baby instead.
“Taheela, should you be up?” Hayeel asked.
“Raheel, meet auntie Hayeel, Hayeel, say happy birthday, Raheel is ten days old today.”
“Ten days already! Wow! You were early, weren't you, Raheel! No, you're a big girl aren't you! Maybe mummy just can't count.”
“Your grace, you have a letter,” Taheela's husband said, bowing formally.
“My grace? I'm an ambassador, not a duchess!”
“You'd better read your envelope, sister,” Taheela said.
“'To her grace, Duchess Hayeel of Repink, Lady Ambassador to the royal court of Caneth.' Repink is where grandma was from, isn't it?”
“And mummy said she used to say she'd been a born a duchess, but that it was really normal for slaves to have some kind of story like that. Go, on, open it!”
Hayeel did. There was a letter, which she instantly recognised as Salay's writing, and a very formal document. “By order of his Imperial Majesty, the title of Duchess of Repink, with all rights and privileges, having lain vacant these past decades, is restored to Hayeel, oldest living descendent of Duchess Taheena, condemned to slavery as a result of a false witnesses and subsequent miscarriage of justice, this only so discovered after her death.
In the event of Duchess Hayeel's death without legitimate children or a higher title being bestowed on Duchess Hayeel, the fourth rank title shall pass to her sister, who shall be, until that time, known as Lady Taheela, of the fifth rank of nobility, with all associated rights and privileges.”
“Me? Lady fifth-rank?” Taheela shrieked in disbelief.
“Something interesting happen?” Esme asked.
“You could say that. If you ever wondered what a Dahel-style act of ennoblement looked like, here's one. And meet my niece, Raheel. Lady sixth-rank Raheel I should say.”
“You've been ennobled? Congratulations! Any particular duties that go with it?” Esme asked.
“No idea. I really hope I don't have to collect the tax for Repink personally, that'd be awkward. Especially since I'm not exactly sure where it is. I might need to borrow some maps. Grandma got made a slave in a miscarriage of justice, apparently.”
“And your prince has had the title restored?”
“I really don't know. I'll need to read his letter. Better done in private, than here on the dock, I think.”
“Probably. Congratulations on your ennoblement too, lady Taheela, lady Raheel.”
“Am I a lady?” Taheela's son asked.
“No, ladies are girls, you're a little lord sixth-rank now, so no playing in the mud,” Taheela said.
“Oh. Can I not be?”
“No,” Hayeel said, not needing the gift to work out what he was asking, “And you still wouldn't be allowed to play in the mud,”
The disappointment on his face was very obvious, and so Esmetherelda said, “But it might be that little lords have some special play clothes, which their lady mother doesn't mind them getting muddy. I know that when I was a little princess I had some. Lady Taheela, I trust you and your husband will be joining us at our wedding and the ball afterwards? Duchess Hayeel claims she will not dance, and will look after your children, but I think there will be some dances we can persuade her to take part in, circle dances where there is no partner who might dwell on unwelcome thoughts.”
“I'll be delighted to come, highness, and I'm sure that duchess Hayeel will be delighted to represent the honour and grace of Dahel in such a manner.”
Prince Hal came from talking to ambassador Raleph. “Esme, there's apparently a new ambassador from Tesk, and there's been one official courier from Tew, impatiently asking when Yalisa will be back for the last five days.”
“Not able to do basic maths?” Esme asked.
“I guess he thought that maybe we'd rush her back where he expected her to be from part way if we heard anything. Feel free to ask him and see if there's any coherent logic in his brain. That looks like him coming.”
There was indeed a man running towards the quay where the Albatross was tied up, dressed in the livery of an official messenger of Tew.
“Yalisa, put prince Sal down for a bit.” Esme called. “There's someone who wants to talk to you.”
“I want to talk to Sal,” Yalisa replied. But she did let go of his hands and look around. She then stood erect, unmoving, as she took in the two black sashes around the messenger's arm.
The messenger knelt before her, and drew a breath. “Long live your majesty! The king your father was walking on the cliffs, shouting his anger at God for the death of your brother. Your lady mother was near him, mourning more peacefully, and not so close to the edge. There was a large landslide, your majesty. Your mother survived, but was hurt, a broken leg, your father was killed.”
“You came by ship?”
“Horseback, majesty. A carriage and changes of horses are prepared.”
She closed her eyes in silent prayer, and looked at Sal.
“Go, beloved queen.” Sal said, “Your people need you, and overland is faster with changes of horses.”
“Before I go, Esme, please send me what you get from the academy. Sal, I do not want to face this on my own. Will you bring the cloth you offered me on the beach?”
“Now?”
“I will be gone soon if you don't.”
As Sal sprinted to his boat, Yalisa asked “Lady Hayeel, as a neutral observer of my thoughts, may I have your advice?”
“Your mother will need you, your people will need you. You will need hope, strength, and honour. Sal will need clothes and an honour guard, and has both on the Skua. He can also take you the things you leave here. By accepting the cloth you honour him and your heart, by not wearing it you honour your grieving mother. I think there would be dishonour and lack of respect in travelling together with prince Sal and leaving all your ladies in waiting here, abandoned. The messenger now worries on hearing you have more than one; so I tell him there are three. There is only space for himself or the other driver to sleep, a guard, yourself and one other. It would be most dishonourable to travel with no female companion, your majesty. Choosing speed and leaving two to pack your possessions and travelling on the Skua would be better. That is my advice. And a good choice of companion, majesty.”
“Rosa,” Yalisa said to the most down-to-earth of her companions, “you and I must rush home at top speed. There will be little time or privacy for changing on the way, but we must be presentable and in mourning colours. Please, make appropriate choices for us both.”
“Your riding gear?” Rosa suggested.
“Very good,” Yalisa said, “We may indeed need to ride.” and then proceeded to give instructions to the other ladies-in-waiting.
