Kai
§
We got into Highgarden late, but after seeing the banners on the horizon, nobody wanted to stop and make camp when home was so close by. My father greeted me with a heavy slap on the back, and congratulations, and when we had supped and rested the night, he began meeting with everyone to learn of our trip. He was pleased with what we had accomplished, and said that our own preparations had been going well, but sending so many boys and men to train in Silver Hill with Tyrys and various masters at arms meant that we had to be concerned about the next harvest. We couldn't expect the same yield if the men who did the harvesting weren't there to do it. Our recent harvest had been weaker than expected, and taxes had been low. We needed to make our resources count for the coming winter.
Florie was at my side as we planned, and she said she thought it would be nice to see everyone working for the harvest, women and children filling the place of some of the men. We came up with a plan to make the next harvest into an agricultural festival – a competition with a harvest queen and prizes for houses bringing in the the best harvests. We would send along information on planting and growing the best crops for smaller hands to pick, the crops that would be easiest for women to tend. If we made it about the pride of the Reach, it would mean people would be involved and invested in ways they might not be otherwise.
Odette was already busy preparing for her next meddlesome intrusion into the lives of single men, looking over her lists and papers for a suitable bride for Tyrys. It makes sense of course, because we need an heir. And at least now her eyes might not be on me so much. She had in mind two possibilities. The first would be a Lannister girl. There were a few eligible, but Odette wanted to be sure that she got someone who would be the best for House Gardener. I knew one of the girls was very pretty, but she wasn't the most well-connected, and that meant Odette wouldn't give her a second thought. Lannister power and Lannister gold shine much more brightly for her than virgin beauty. The second possible match was a young girl, fourteen and not past her first blood, but a Targaryen. Tallyse Targaryen was one of the rare Targaryen girls not already betrothed or married to another Targaryen, and any connection to the royal family, however far removed, would be good for us. Odette resolved to invite the appropriate people to the wedding, to make sure that she could talk with the people who could make decisions for the girls.
Most of my days became a blur of helping Florie with wedding preparations. I was bored stiff by them, but she wouldn't let me leave her side, and the steely look in her eyes when I tried made me certain it wouldn't be too wise to do so. With the wedding so soon, it was also increasingly impossible to get her alone, which has been a frustration. A man has needs, and they certainly aren't fulfilled by choosing the colors of silken hangings and flower arrangements.
Rivenka began to vanish more and more, and I frequently saw her in conversation with her harper, who she now almost always had dressed in fine clothing. I can't even begin to fathom what she's hoping to do with him, but I know Rivenka well enough now to be certain that every move is deliberate.
A storm blew in from the northwest a week or so after we returned home. The wind howled around the castle walls, and the meadows swelled with rain. It was chilly, and for the first time, I considered just how near winter really was. Two days later, Odette came to where my cousins and I were doing more interminable wedding planning, and she said that she had just been to see my father, and he had been grim. Ravens had come from Golden Oakheart at Old Oak, and there had been a raid by the Iron Men in reavers, but the storm had been so brutal, nobody could tell if they had gone back to the islands or whether they were even now in the Mander. They could have gone past the Shield Islands in the storm, and we wouldn't know it until their next raid. Oakheart was appealing to us for aid, but my father thought that it was perhaps too late, and we would need those men if the Iron Islanders were indeed coming up the river. He had told her not to speak of it, but Odette prized our counsel.
It was Rivenka who came up with the most elegant solution for preparing to fight men in boats. She knew of ways that people in the Free Cities gathered on riverbanks to fight, and she drew Odetta side to talk to her about what to suggest to Lord Arthyr.
Rula
§
I found myself playing bodyguard to Rivenka and Azeline as they ran about the city on some errand of Rivenka's. She was toting around that harper of hers, but she had him done up like a right proper gentleman, which I thought was a bit of a laugh. But she was calling him Talon and making a name for him, and I gather she wanted to use him to make money, which doesn't seem like a thing that'd catch on in Westeros, but nobody was asking my opinion.
They went to the Inn of Seven Sparrows, which had a concert stage, and she got into it with the innkeeper about how you could charge people just to hear him play and sing. Tom was getting comfortable in his new role, and he took a look around the stage, sniffed, and asked “Do you think it's big enough?”
They came to an arrangement to make sure the innkeep wouldn't lose himself money, and I stopped paying much attention when they began to talk numbers and prices.
The rain had made me gloomy, and made me think of home. Home and the unfinished business there. I stared out at the wet streets, and remembered.
I was sixteen, and in the arms of the man I loved. We were in bed, and there was a cool rain outside, making the cobblestones steam. Vasili was everything to me – mentor, lover, confidant – and I was going to make him proud. He had become the best water dancer in the Fellowship young, and I was going to follow in his footsteps, to use the sword like I was born to it. There was something odd about tonight though, odd in a way our nights hadn’t been since I gave him my maidenhead the year before. He was quiet, like he had something on his mind, and young fool I was, I couldn’t guess at it. I slid myself over him and stared down into his eyes. I was prettier then, a little coltish but with features soft as my brother’s were at that age. I wore my hair longer, and I was leaning down close enough that it slid over his chest. “What’s wrong?”
“You did handily at that competition the other day,” he said, but he didn’t look happy. “You won.”
“Aren’t you pleased?”
“There’s something you need to understand, Rula.” He pushed me up, rose to sit with his back against the head of the bed. “You’re a girl just into womanhood. You can’t play at being like the boys for good.”
I stared at him, too shocked to speak.
“Take lessons from the others,” he said, his voice gentling, and he touched my cheek. “Learn poisons like that brother of yours. A courtesan with your skills can go far.”
“I don’t want to be a courtesan,” I said. “I want to be with you!”
Vasili stared into my eyes. “And be what? It has been charming to put you in breeches and teach you swordplay, but how could I possibly keep it up? I have my own reputation to think about. And what will you become, girl, if you keep this up? A sellsword slut. I have to think of the Fellowship, too. You’ll never be of the caliber they expect.”
I slapped him then, which wasn’t wise. He was on me in an instant, wrenching my arm painfully, spilling me onto the floor. I screamed challenges at him, told him I would see him on the grounds in the morning, to prove I was good enough, and he just laughed. He did meet me the next day, and bested me, and cut me painfully enough that I was limping for a week.
Although he was one of only a handful of bastards like him at our school, some of those bastards had power, and it was more than half a year before I could continue my sword lessons. By that time, the barbed words we flung at each other every time we saw one another were well known. I focused on regaining my pride and tried to ignore my broken heart. I had been a stupid girl, and I couldn’t afford to be one any longer. So I learned, and I fought, and I challenged him once more when Slaange and I were ready to leave.
I won by luck alone, because I slipped and my attempt to recover led me by chance into knocking Vasili down, but I won. We could both see plain enough it wasn’t skill, that he was still better than me. But I took the win. I had hurt his pride, and I hadn’t done it fairly, and when he stood with his lips curling in contempt, he leaned in very close to whisper in my ear.
“If I ever see you again, Rula Silvanos, it will be the last time.”
“Now that’s a fact,” I agreed. I heard he was training up a new girl not long after. Working her hard, like he had with me. Probably taking her to bed like he had with me. Made my blood fair boil, knowing that I was almost good enough to take him down. But not quite. Not quite good enough, and maybe he was right. Maybe I could never be more. I used to think that I should enlist some help, come back with my brother and friends, but it wouldn’t prove him wrong about me. And if I can’t prove him wrong, taking him down would be a hollow victory, same as before.
I’m better with a sword now, but it’s not enough. I’ve got to be able to sneak up on him if I have to, to be silent like Slaange, to be skilled enough to take damn near any man. Skilled enough to take a big fellow like Quaynlis down, even, or a man in armor.
Because the next time I see Vasili, no matter what he has learned or who he has with him, I’m going to kill him.
