Figurehead

nine

I'm glad it is Dre, not Kras or Swi. According to those in Deritri, Swi is when the desert is swept up by winds from all direction and sandstorms and windstorms- what's the difference in the desert?- brush past at least twice each week. In Kras, the rain falls so heavily it is difficult to walk anywhere because the sand turns into a thick mess.

And perhaps I have grown accustomed to the cold, like Eris said, because I don't mind it at night so much now.

I reach the Eska region in less than three days- I'm glad the others were wrong and I didn't get stuck in the desert. I'm ready to step foot on Escatin land again.

It is falling light when I enter the former king's shelter, stopping short. A guard I don't know but vaguely- ever so vaguely- recognise holds a spear to my chest as I slowly raise my forearms to the sky.

"Who are you and why are you here?" he asks bluntly. In a corner of the 'room', a lantern tied to a staff is rooted into the sand. The guard's pale hair seems like auburn in the light, his grey eyes like stone.

"Janf, trusted messenger. I'm here to stay the night." My words come out rushed.

"With the former king?" he asks, furrowing his eyebrows. "He's never requested a trusted messenger before."

I can't hide the disgust on my face from the idea of his implication. "I'm returning to Escatin from Deritri," I say through gritted teeth. "I'm here to stay the night alone before continuing on my way tomorrow at first light." Can't he see my belongings suggest I'm not a- a- I don't finish the thought.

"Ink?" he asks brusquely. I push the hare's pelt aside with part of my jacket so he can catch a glimpse of the ink on my skin.

He retracts the spear and licks his lips. "Fine." He keeps his gaze fixed on me as he shouts, "Gri!" What a relief. A guard I know. Sort of.

Gri rushes into the room, eyebrows raised, daggers in hands. "What?"

The guard I don't know the name of jerks his head at me. "Get her sorted out." I hate the way he eyes me before turning to face the entrance once again. It makes my skin crawl.

"I know you," he says, eyebrows furrowed as we enter the shelter. His blue eyes seem green in the light, his golden hair like fire. "Janf, right?"

"Yeah." I hesitate. "Can I give something to the former king?"

Gri frowns. "Not yet." He stops to push a thick cloth aside. "In here," he says. "Put your stuff down, I'll bring you a lantern and get Reis to give you some stuff." He must see my confusion. "She's one of the serving-children." He hesitates, then leaves. I do as he told me to, setting my things down before extracting a sealed letter.

"Here you go," someone says. It's the voice of a child, and she stands in the opening of the small 'room' with a bowl of food, a waterskin and a lantern containing a single firefly.

"Reis, I assume," I say with a smile, coming up to her to take them. I stop short. Her hair is dark, her skin is a dark tan and her eyes dark, but something about her reminds me of... Of Jur. Of the former king. She seems to notice, brushing past me to set the items down carefully.

"Yes, I'm Reis. I'm of Escatin blood and I am a serving-girl. So be it." Her voice is momentarily dull, flat. She glances at me. "Gri will be back in a moment," she says, mood shifting back to that of a regular child's before she leaves.

Of Escatin blood? She looked to be only of 6 Dre. Why- how would someone of Escatin blood be a serving-child? Unless- unless- but surely not. Surely not.

Gri must see my confusion when he returns. He blows out a breath. "She is his daughter," he says under his breath, answering my unspoken questions and speaking aloud the thought I didn't want to think.

"And she's aware of that," I add darkly. He nods once. "Isn't there anything else for her?" Illegitimate she may be, but she is of Escatin blood.

"Not unless both parents permit it." He leads me into the former king's room and I try and keep my face impassive. "Former Escatin, trusted messenger Janf will be staying overnight. She has something for you."

The man squints at me before nodding. "Come in." His words are slightly slurred. I don't want to be here now, but I enter, Gri taking up his position at the room's entrance. He shouldn't be watching me- he is the former king's guard, after all, not mine- but he is, and I'm grateful. Jur grins lazily. "Nice to see you again." He frowns almost exaggeratedly. "Where is Tui? Is she dead?" There is a hint of real concern in his voice at this.

I shake my head. "No, she's staying in Deritri with the others."

He laughs so hard it turns into a cough. "Surely she is dead, then."

"She's not dead." My voice is harder than I intend for it to be, and I clear my throat. "She asked me to give this to you." I hand him the sealed message. He tosses it into the pile of parchment on his wooden board of a table.

"I can read that another time," he says dismissively. "Would you like to join me tonight?"

I back away. "No, former Escatin, I would not." Gri gives me a pitying look as I leave the room, shooting the former king a look of revulsion. I hear Jur's drunken laugh and suppress a shudder. Oh, Dein. Oh, Dein. I can't be more relieved he hasn't seen his afa.

With the drunken former king at one end of the shelter and the guard at the entrance, I can't sleep. Curled up on my pallet in my jacket beneath a sheet, cloak and pelt, I stare at the firefly in the lantern, the only light here in the darkness of the 'room'. I can feel the cool and flat pressure of the dagger inside my jacket but I don't want to have to use it.

It takes a long time and many, many fitful prayers before I manage to sleep.