A Day of Fallen Night (The Roots of Chaos)

Wulf slept for days with his back to a hearth. After the wild gallop through the Fens, his body, brought twice to the cusp of death, had refused to take another step. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he fell into merciful, dreamless slumber, too heavy for nightmares to pierce.

As a child, he had dreamed of bees. He would wake thinking they were swarming his bed, stuck with honey to his fingers. At first, Lord Edrick had tried to reason with him, telling him bees only stung out of fear. Bees work hard for us, Wulfert. If not for them, no crops would grow.

Gradually, they had all understood that the fear was some remnant of the time before, of which Wulf had no memory. Not knowing what had caused it, all his parents had been able to do was strip every hive and skep from the grounds and tuck the honey out of sight.

He knew he would not dream of bees again now. For the rest of his life, his nightmares would be wyrms, and then the cold black water.

****

Mara woke him now and then to give him sips of broth. When he found he could keep his eyes open, the light between the shutters was copper, and his sister was putting wood on the fire.

‘Mara, don’t fuss,’ he murmured. ‘The servants will keep it burning.’

‘Och, hush. I’ve not been able to fuss over you since you were wee.’ She came to his bedside and touched his forehead. ‘Well, you’re beaten and burned, but you don’t have marsh fever.’

He sat up, sore all over. ‘Is Thrit all right?’

‘Tired and cold, like you. Tends to happen when you ride through wetland in the night.’ She checked the fresh linen on his hands. ‘Doctor Forthard says your frostnip is healing well.’

Wulf took in his surroundings for the first time. He was tucked into a canopy bed in a chamber with pale walls. ‘I missed Inys.’ His voice was returning. ‘I missed you. Didn’t think I’d see either again.’

‘I was with Marian when the news about the ships came, so I heard it first. I had to ride home and tell everyone. I’ve never seen Father like that. He just . . . sank into himself.’

‘I suppose he’ll be out mustering the people of the Lakes.’

‘Aye, Lord Robart will likely have reached him by now. I asked him not to tell Father you’re alive,’ she added quietly. ‘I’d like us to show him ourselves.’

Wulf nodded.

‘Should Lord Robart be leaving the capital?’ he asked. ‘Surely the regent should stay with the queen.’

‘He still has provincial duties. We must all adapt in the face of wyrms.’ Mara patted his arm. ‘Will you eat?’

‘I could.’

The daylight left while she was gone. When she returned, she brought slices of fresh bread and nettle cheese, a goblet of mulled wine, and braised pheasant legs, weltered in a spiced red sauce. Wulf ate and drank slowly, chewing each mouthful as if it were his last.

On his way to the castle, he had seen the scarcity of food on the burned streets of Ascalun: people jostling at the remaining bakeries, quarrelling over the fish traps in the river. From snatches of their conversations, he was certain it was the wyrm from the sea that had led the attack on the city. A wyrm with a name.

‘What were you doing in Ascalun?’ Wulf asked his sister. ‘Were you here during the fire?’

‘No. I arrived when you did.’ She lit the candles. ‘I came because Lord Robart has sent Marian to Cuthyll. He clearly has his reasons, but—’

‘Cuthyll.’ Wulf almost dropped what he was eating. ‘The Fens is where the plague is. Lady Marian can’t stay there.’

A soft knock kept Mara from replying. She shook the taper out before she cracked the door open.

‘Lady Helisent,’ she said in surprise.

‘Mara, I know it’s been some time since we last spoke. May I come in?’ a voice said, with a northern accent. ‘I just heard you were at court, and I’ve been wanting to unburden myself.’

‘Of course.’

Mara stood aside. Helisent Beck stepped into the chamber, dressed in a simple gown of grey wool with a mantle, looking as tired as Wulf felt. Noticing him, she said, ‘I heard you were alive.’

Wulf stayed in the bed. ‘Now you see.’

‘Did you want to speak to me alone, Helisent?’ Mara asked. ‘We can go elsewhere.’

Helisent locked gazes with Wulf.

‘No,’ she said. ‘You may as well both hear.’ She sat beside the fire. ‘Mara, when my mother died, you invited me to Langarth. I was adrift in grief, but you reached out, to talk me through the loss. Your kindness helped so much. I’m sorry to impose upon it now.’

‘You could never impose, Helisent. We are both girls who lost mothers, and time cannot thaw such a bond.’ Mara took the chair beside hers. ‘Tell me, how can I help?’

‘These are scattered thoughts. I’m not sure how they fit together.’

‘Take your time.’

Helisent allowed herself a moment to begin.

‘Queen Glorian was to marry Prince Therico of Yscalin. Several days ago, we learned he was killed by the wyrms. Glorian agreed to marry his granduncle instead. The Duke of Kóvuga is more than seventy years old.’

Mara traded a shaken look with Wulf.

‘She’s not even seventeen,’ Wulf said hoarsely. ‘Why would she ever agree to that?’

‘To strengthen Inys. To honour the last contract her mother made. Because she thinks it’s the best way to do her duty. I don’t know.’ Helisent rubbed her temple. ‘She says Lord Robart gave her the choice whether to press ahead, that he didn’t force the match – but he gave his tacit approval. Tell me, what sort of man would even entertain the thought?’

‘Is it common among royals?’

‘Saint, no. There are occasional differences in age, but never so great.’ Helisent shivered. ‘Here’s the second part of the thought. I promise it has some relevance to the first.’

Wulf tried to soften his jaw. It was screwed tight enough that it was sending an ache through his teeth.

‘There have always been unlawful visits to the haithwood,’ Helisent said. ‘Six years ago, my father saw a group of lamps going that way in the night. He saw it again the next year, around the Feast of Early Spring.’

Mara said, ‘Heathens?’

‘I’d say so. A sort of procession. Once my father was certain it was a yearly occurrence, he reported it to Lord Robart, who said the matter would be dealt with. No lamps came again for some time after that.

‘I wrote to my father about Queen Glorian and Prince Guma. I received his reply this afternoon.’ Helisent swallowed. ‘Father said his foresters had come to him with a confession, just a few days ago. Even after he made his report to Lord Robart, he has always sent them into the haithwood on the eve of the Feast of Early Spring, to be certain it lay undisturbed. Last year, they decided to cross the boundary to the other side – your side – and saw the lamps again. The trespassers must have started entering from the Lakes.’

‘Our fathers never noticed any such thing,’ Wulf murmured. ‘We never did, either.’

‘They wouldn’t have had to pass Langarth.’ Helisent glanced at the door. ‘Here is the root of my fear. The foresters told my father that Lord Robart himself was among them.’

A long silence descended.

‘Be plain,’ Wulf said.

‘I fear that Lord Robart Eller is a heathen, and has been helping others follow the old ways.’

‘You thought I was a heathen, too. Everyone does,’ Wulf pointed out. ‘Do you not think Queen Sabran would have noticed if her most trusted advisor was not a man of faith?’

‘No,’ Helisent said forcefully, ‘because she chose him for the very qualities he could have used to cover that fact – his diligence, his cleverness, his patience. A regent who doesn’t believe in the Saint would not recognise the authority of the House of Berethnet. That puts Glorian in even greater danger.’

‘Why pressure her to have an heir, if he was trying to undermine her bloodline?’

‘I don’t know. I can smell a rotten scheme, but can’t quite see it. What I know is that if Robart Eller is a heathen, he could use his authority as regent to weaken the Six Virtues. He could bring the old ways back out of the shadows. How the marriage fits into this, I’m not sure, but I have a feeling in my gut, and I’ve learned to listen to it. That’s why I need help.’

‘Your father,’ Mara said. ‘He didn’t report Lord Robart?’

Helisent shook her head. ‘He had no proof but the foresters’ word, and didn’t want to stir the pot. But now Lord Robart has the power of a king. Can we risk not looking into this?’

Wulf said nothing. He knew what it was to be feared based on nothing but whispers.

‘I could be wrong. Perhaps the foresters were lying,’ Helisent conceded. ‘But what if I’m right?’ She folded her hands in her lap. ‘Father is away from home, taking stock of the damage to the Leas. I can’t leave court. But you both could.’

‘What is it you want us to do?’ Mara asked.

‘The Feast of Early Spring is nigh. If you caught him participating in a heathen rite, we’d have grounds to unseat him as regent.’

Wulf narrowed his eyes. ‘And then what?’

‘Lady Marian.’ Helisent looked at Mara. ‘A poor queen, to be sure, but could she take over?’

‘Yes,’ Mara said, with conviction. ‘She has grown stronger in her winter years, and she loves Glorian.’

‘Aye. I’m just asking you to establish the truth,’ Helisent said, mostly to Wulf. ‘It’s too late to undo the marriage, but we can secure the queendom from within.’

Mara contemplated. ‘I think Marian could manage without me for a few weeks. She still has loyal servants. Wulf, what do you think?’

‘I’ll go, if only to prove once and for all that there’s nothing uncanny about that damned wood. Einlek asked me to ensure Glorian is safe in Inys.’ Wulf breathed out through his nose. ‘Could I see her, Helisent?’

‘She should be on her way by now.’ Helisent stood. ‘Don’t tell her about this, Wulf. I don’t want her to mistrust her regent without cause. Just tell her you’re going to see your family.’

‘Wait—’ Wulf coughed. ‘What do you mean, she’s on her way?’

‘She asked me to arrange a meeting with you at midnight. I just decided to come early.’

When she was gone, Mara came back to his side. ‘Wulf,’ she said. ‘Are you certain you can face the haithwood?’

‘It’s past time. Let me look it in the eye at last. See for myself that it’s only a wood.’

Mara sighed. ‘I’d better write to Marian, then. Can you ride in a day or two, do you think?’ He nodded. ‘We’ll visit Langarth first. We can’t move against Lord Robart without Father.’

‘I agree,’ Wulf said. ‘I’ll need you to find Sauma – my lith sister. She said she’d be staying in Ascalun. Tell her to go back to Einlek. Thrit and I will join her when we can.’

‘I’ll try.’

Without Mara, there was nothing but the crackle of the fire to break the silence. Wulf gazed at it for a moment too long, and saw the flames dancing on the Conviction.

At midnight, the door opened again, and the Queen of Inys entered his room, wearing a bedgown over her shift, and closed the door behind her. Her hair hung to her waist, wet from a bath.

‘Your Grace.’ With effort, Wulf rose from bed, holding on to the post for support. ‘Glorian.’

‘I never thought I’d see you again.’ The firelight played over her as she came closer. ‘I grieved you, Wulf.’

‘The Saint doesn’t want me just yet.’

‘I wanted to thank you in private. After so much suffering, you still returned to help me.’

‘Glorian,’ Wulf said, low and soft, ‘why have you agreed to marry Guma Vetalda?’

She was carefully expressionless. ‘He brings a significant dowry to Inys, among other things.’

‘Could he not marry your grandmother, then?’ Wulf asked, frustrated. ‘Could you not—’

‘Remarriage is forbidden to queens, unless we are left childless widows. Besides, it was the Inysh heir my mother offered the Yscals. Inys might stand at the head of Virtudom, but we have a small army, no war engines, and poor finances. We are in no position to outlast a prolonged attack.’ She turned away from him. ‘And I need to have a daughter. I need it . . . to be done with, Wulf. This is the quickest way for me to get with child.’

‘When are you supposed to be marrying him?’

‘I have already married him by proxy. An Yscali courtier stood in his place, and I wore grey.’ Glorian was vacant. ‘He is on his way to Inys, or will be soon.’

‘Saint’s ribs. Does he know you’re sixteen?’

‘I’m not sure.’

‘If he does, he’s a monster.’ He looked at her drawn face. ‘You can’t even know what you’ve agreed to.’

‘I know perfectly well what happens in the bridechamber,’ Glorian said curtly. ‘But Fýredel swore to return here by summer – and Wulf, I must be with child before then.’

‘Why not just wait until it’s safer?’

‘Because if I die without an heir, the Nameless One will be released as well. And I need the Virtues Council to stop looking at me as a womb – a jar, created to be filled. They will not let me fight alongside the people until I yield the fruit. It must be done, else I will not be free. I will not be able to choose my own fate. Can you imagine what that’s like – to be seen only for the life you could make, not the life you already possess?’

‘No. I’ll never know how that feels.’ Wulf came to stand in front of her. ‘But I do know a thing or two about other people’s expectations, and not always giving in to them.’

‘It’s not the same. I am a queen, a Berethnet. My body has never belonged to me, and it never will, until it pays this divine tax to Inys. Only then can I be a warrior queen.’

Wulf could hear no more. He grasped her by her hands, and he said, ‘Lie with me.’

Her expression shifted. ‘What?’

As soon as the offer had left his mouth, he had known he should take it back.

‘Lie with me,’ he said again, firmer. ‘Let it be me. Make this one choice for yourself. You could try to get with child before the old prince even reaches Inys.’

‘I can’t.’ Glorian stared at him. ‘It would be adultery. You would be executed if we were discovered.’

‘Aye. And the child would be a bastard – the daughter of an outcast, a nobody.’

‘Wulf, you’re not—’

‘I am, Glorian. By the laws of this land, I was a foundling before Lord Edrick gave me his name,’ Wulf reminded her. ‘And I doubt I’m secretly a prince.’ He looked her in the eyes. ‘But if anyone found out, I wager they’d not care so much, in a time like this.’

‘Prince Guma would have to know.’

‘If he’s a good man, he’ll encourage it. If not, he’ll at least look the other way, because he’ll still be prince consort of Inys – a fine position for his winter years, and more than he’d deserve. All he has to do is say the marriage was consummated.’

Glorian studied him. ‘You would truly risk your life for this, Wulf?’

‘I would.’

‘Why?’

Because seeing her so trapped, he could do nothing else. He could not leave his friend with no choice but the Prince of Yscalin.

And something in him had always called to something in her.

‘You said love had no part in it. Ours might not be a romance for the ages,’ Wulf said, ‘but I care for you, Glorian. You were my first real friend, while I settled into Hróth. You made my circumstances easier to bear, and I’d like to return the favour, if you’ll let me.’ He touched her under the chin. ‘I promised your cousin I’d keep you safe.’

‘I sincerely doubt he meant this.’

‘No.’ He cracked a faint smile, which she returned. ‘But I doubt he meant for you to lie with this Prince Guma, either. I doubt the Saint himself would expect you to endure that.’

He set his forehead to hers. She closed her eyes and reached up to hold him there, cool hands framing his face. It stirred a memory of summer.

I don’t think I’ll ever meet anyone I like more than you, Wulf. Let’s always be friends, as long as we live.

The first oath he had ever sworn to anyone but her late father. In the rose garden, they had pricked their fingers on the same thorn and pressed them together, blood on blood.

‘Let me think on it,’ Glorian said under her breath.

‘All right.’ He drew away. ‘I’m going to see my family. I’ll return after the Feast of Early Spring. If you agree, I’ll stay in Inys a bit longer, and we’ll try. If not, I’ll go back to King Einlek.’

Glorian nodded. ‘Send my regards to your family – and my thanks, for all they must do in the days to come.’

‘I will.’

‘Before you go, I had a question. My mother,’ Glorian said. ‘What was she wearing when she died?’

The question caught him off his guard. He was back on the Conviction, in the grey fog. ‘Red,’ he said quietly. ‘The finest red you can imagine, rich and bonny, like the Inyscan rose.’

‘Thank you. May the Saint keep you, Wulf.’

‘And you, Glorian Shieldheart.’

Glorian turned very still. ‘That was what the wyrm called me.’

‘Aye, I heard. I say it suits you.’

She looked back at him, and he saw Hróth awaken in her, iron and ice.