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.
Whatever the case, I sensed that the general mood was more shocked than jubilant. Altapasaedans had grown used to the threat of first Mounteban and then Panchessa, and surely it would be a while before normality — whatever that word now meant for the city — truly returned. At any rate, I was grateful no one recognised Malekrin, for I doubted he would be ready yet for the demands and questions that would soon be hurled his way. Tomorrow he would be Prince Malekrin of Altapasaeda, but maybe for tonight at least he could remain plain, ill-tempered Mal.
The Dancing Cat, when we arrived, was surprisingly empty. Probably the crowd that I’d come to think of as its regulars, that motley crew of ex-guardsmen and Mounteban’s former lackeys who had become the heart of the Altapasaedan defence, were off doing whatever important things needed to be done in a city that had just so narrowly escaped disaster.
I took the opportunity to requisition a bottle of wine and two cups from beneath the bar. Mal was already at his table of choice by the time I returned; I filled our cups to brimming, pushed one beneath his nose and said, “So what do you plan to do with the palace then? You can’t live in all of it, you know.”
“I couldn’t live in a hundredth of it,” said Malekrin. “I doubt there’s a single room small enough that my tent back home wouldn’t fit into it. So, I don’t know. In the short term, though, I think it would make a good hospital. Better than what they have now, at any rate,” he added, with a shudder.
“Anyway,” I said, “I think you’ll make a good prince…”
Malekrin’s face lit, just for an instant. “Really?”
“Wait, let me finish. I think you’ll make a good prince, is what I’d like to tell you… but the truth is, I expect you’ll be awful at it. Still, I’m sure you’ll try your best, and with everything that’s happened, it might do people good to have a prince again for a while. Maybe you can hold things together until Estrada comes up with a better solution, at any rate.”
Malekrin grinned. “Thank you, Damasco… for everything you’ve done.”
“What? I haven’t done anything.”
“Well then, thank you for that.” He frowned. “Anyway, where will you go now?”
I hadn’t given the question much thought; there hadn’t seemed much point in considering the future when I didn’t expect to have one. “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe I’ll head north.” I thought of Huero and his family, who had helped me to get the giants moving from the hillside where Moaradrid had abandoned them. “I made a few friends there. I think I’d like to see how they’re doing.”
“But you won’t leave straightaway?” Malekrin asked. There was a hint of concern in his voice.
“No,” I said, “I may as well hang around for a few days… see how this all pans out.”
We both looked round then at the creak of footsteps on old wood, to see Estrada appear from the direction of the stairs. “There you are,” she said — and, as her gaze took in the bottle of wine and the two now almost empty cups, she added, “Why aren’t I surprised?”
“Because,” I told her, “you are a woman of rare, keen insight.”
“That’s true,” Estrada replied, with a sage nod, “that’s certainly true. But don’t think you can talk your way out of getting our new prince drunk, Easie. Anyway, it’s you I was hoping to find.” To Malekrin she said, “Do you mind if I borrow your drinking partner, your highness?”
Malekrin smiled, bowed low in his seat. “You may. So long as you return him before I’m forced to empty this bottle on my own.”
I got to my feet, not quite steadily — for I’d cleaned my cup a little quicker than was prudent — and threaded my way over to Estrada. As we began up the stairs, she said softly, “That poor boy. After everything he’s been through, and now a responsibility like this to bear. I wish there was another way.”
“He’ll be fine,” I whispered back. “He’s tougher than he looks.” Then louder, I continued, “Anyway, did I understand what you told him in front of Panchessa? You’re staying here in Altapasaeda with your boyfriend?”
Estrada paused at the head of the stairs — and I’d have sworn she was blushing. “I’ve told you before,” she said, “he’s not my boyfriend. But he needs someone here while he heals, and after that… well, I might stay on.” Suddenly all of the defensiveness fell from her face and she said, “I love him, Easie. I don’t want to live my life without him anymore.”
Now it was my turn for embarrassment. My overwhelming urge was to make some glib comment, but seeing the weight of old sadness relieved by the hope in Estrada’s eyes, I knew I just couldn’t get away with it. “He loves you too,” I said. “I doubt he’s any better at saying it than he is at showing it, but believe me… I’ve spent far too much time with the man, and he’d give everything he has for you.”