Chapter 12

The clouds broke the next day before the ship made port. The Peregrine’s crew had jury-rigged a temporary replacement for the upper mainmast, using a spare yardarm to reinforce the section of the mast that hadn’t fallen overboard, and they’d made good time on the last leg of their journey.

The sun was shining while the group disembarked and made plans. The others went to find an inn with enough room for everyone, but Treya’s first stop was at the Three Orders chapter house.

“Mother Ola?” she said, peering into the old woman’s office.

Ola’s face lit up with a wide smile. “Treya!” she said, standing up from the desk to hug her and welcome her in. “I got used to you stopping by more often. We’ve missed you here.”

Treya managed to hide her surprise. She and Mother Ola had never been particularly close—Ola had been unhappy with Treya’s decision to join the Order of Mystics, and Treya had unfairly blamed the woman for bringing her from Four Roads to Tyrsall.

“I’m happy to be back,” she said.

“How was your trip to Cordaea?”

“We found Tir Yadar.”

“Is that the place you were searching for? The lost city?” Mother Ola had come from the Order of Scholars, but even amongst scholars, the ancient Tirs weren’t a common subject of study. And, in truth, the scholars in the Three Orders were mostly teachers rather than historians.

“Yes,” Treya said. “We found what we were looking for. An entire city inside a mountain, like the dwarves build. It wasn’t even in ruins—most of it was intact. We earned some coin on the trip; I’ll be able to make a donation to the Orders before I leave.”

“That’s always appreciated,” Mother Ola said. “We have more girls to take care of than ever, and the king has asked us to set up a school for orphaned boys who are too young to be taken in as apprentices. He and the duke have both offered funding, but you know how that goes. It always costs more than you think it will. But you said you’re leaving? How long are you here for?”

“At least a few days, maybe more, but then we’re heading to Four Roads.” Treya quickly explained their plan to draw out Rusol’s forces without endangering another village.

“I see,” Ola said. “I’ve sent messages to Mother Idra at Highfell, but I may have been too circumspect with my questions. She hasn’t noticed anything wrong, and I didn’t want to risk mentioning King Marten’s concubine in case Idra passed along my concerns. I wrote to the concubine myself—her name is Sharra—but it was just a simple greeting. I’ve corresponded with her before, but it’s been years, so I wished her well and asked her how things were going. She replied, but her letter was as uninformative as my own.”

“Thank you for trying,” Treya said. “I’ll let Corec know. Has Shana returned yet?”

“Not to Tyrsall, but I was able to get a message to her. She’d taken a job in Chondor—something about recovering stolen jewels. Then she spent some time at her old chapter house in Abildgard. She’s on her way to Highfell now to see if she can get any more information out of Idra.”

“I don’t know if that’s necessary,” Treya said. “I didn’t mean for you to go to so much trouble.” Highfell was a long way from Abildgard.

“Well, with you in Cordaea, I told her it wasn’t urgent. I’m sure she’ll take other jobs along the way, as she always does. I don’t have any way to get a message to her now unless she stops somewhere in Matagor or Larso for a while and sends a pigeon. She’s already passed through South Corner, and there isn’t another chapter house until she reaches Highfell. The Matagor chapter house has been delayed again—they have their own concubine schools there, and their own orphanage system, so they’re trying to keep us out.”

Treya nodded. Shana had gone most of the way already, so it didn’t make sense to try to find her and stop her. And perhaps she’d learn something in Highfell.

Ola suddenly held up a finger. “Oh, I believe we have some letters for you,” she said, going over to a wall of shelves labeled with rows of names of various Sisters who received their correspondence at the chapter house. “Yes, something from Enna, and then four letters for your Corec of House Tarwen, but addressed to you.” She raised an eyebrow. “Have you become a concubine without telling me? I see you’ve got some new jewelry.”

Treya felt herself blush. “He’s just a friend, but he needed somewhere to receive letters here in Tyrsall. We found the bracelets in Tir Yadar.” The silver cuffs were too plain to be a gift from an admirer, but they were the first jewelry Treya had ever worn in her life, so it wasn’t a surprise Ola would notice.

And maybe there was something to learn from the woman’s hints. It could be worthwhile to forge a link between Corec and the Three Orders. He liked to pretend he was still just a caravan guard, but being a warden had changed him—had changed them all—even if he didn’t want to admit it. On top of that, he was a trained knight, as well as the son of a baron and a Three Orders concubine. Yelena and Hildra both held positions of influence, informal as they might be. It was reasonable to assume that Corec might one day as well, if he ever cared to. If he allied himself with the Three Orders, it could help him navigate future difficulties, and hopefully prevent any other issues such as the one with Prince Rusol.

Judging by the seals, three of Corec’s letters—each addressed in a different hand—were from his family. The fourth letter was addressed more plainly, and just to Corec, without any house name. The wax holding it closed didn’t have an imprint of an official seal.

“I’ll take these to him, then come back,” Treya said. “I want to catch up with Kelis and Nina before supper.”

“You’ll be needing a room then? I’m afraid it’ll have to be one of the guest rooms this time. When we didn’t see you for so long, I finally reassigned your room to two of the older students.”

Treya had enough coin now that she could easily afford to stay at an inn, but it would be strange to come to Tyrsall and not stay at the chapter house. “I’d like to stay here, if I could.”

Ola smiled. “Of course you can. This is your home.”

Corec had worried Dot wouldn’t remember him, but it was clear his fears were unfounded. It was equally clear the horse wasn’t going to forgive him anytime soon for leaving her behind for so long. She’d refused to follow when he’d tried to lead her, and only Shavala’s intervention had convinced her to come along.

After helping the others get the animals situated, Corec and Katrin went for a stroll around the inner city to stretch their legs after being cooped up on the ship for so long. They ended their walk at a teahouse just across from the inn.

“Are you going to sing tonight?” he asked after the tea had been poured.

Katrin hadn’t played her music much toward the end of their time in Cordaea, since the only people who could understand the words to her songs were the ones who’d come along with them on the expedition, and they’d all heard each one dozens of times over.

She sighed. “I don’t know. It seems silly to sing for coppers when we have gold coming soon. I know the gold won’t last forever, but I’m not sure it’s worth just playing in inns and taverns. And it’s not like I can spend all day busking the way Anise does, not while we’re traveling.”

“Do you want to sing? Ignoring the money, would you play tonight if you could?”

She looked thoughtful. “It would be good to play for real again, but not at the Fin and Blade. I don’t like the common room there. Besides, I need to get back into practice first. I think I’ll work on that while we’re here.”

Before Corec could respond, Treya came in the door and headed for their table. “Leena said I could find you here,” she said. “I spoke to Mother Ola about Prince Rusol, and these came to the chapter house while we were away.” She handed over a stack of letters. “I think some of them are from your family.”

Corec nodded, recognizing the seal and the handwriting on three of them. “What did you find out?”

“Nothing, really. Mother Ola wrote to the Highfell chapter house and to the prince’s mother, but she didn’t learn anything new.”

“His mother?”

“She was careful about what she said.”

“Will you pass along my thanks?”

“Of course,” Treya said.

Katrin convinced her to join them while Corec opened the letter he didn’t recognize. It proved to be from Mama Wenna at the boarding house in Four Roads, telling him she’d received the payment he’d sent for his room. He’d done that before sailing to Cordaea, though, and he hadn’t realized how long they’d be gone. He hadn’t sent enough. But, he supposed, even if Mama Wenna had rented the room out to someone else, she would have saved his things. He’d just have to make things right with her when he saw her again.

The proprietor of the shop returned to pour a cup of hot tea for Treya, then left the three of them alone again.

Corec glanced down at the other letters with a sigh. “I suppose I should see what my father has to say.” He broke the wax seal and opened the page.

Corec set the letter down and rubbed at his temples. “Apparently my family thinks Treya is my concubine. I suppose I should have given them more of an explanation in my last letter.”

Katrin snickered.

“Mother Ola asked me about that too,” Treya said. “She wondered why I was receiving mail for you.”

“Ahh, well, sorry about that. I hope it didn’t cause any problems. Isabel wrote too—my father’s wife. I hope she doesn’t make a big deal out of it.”

He unfolded Isabel’s letter.

Dearest Corec, it began.

He skipped over all the pleasantries and the bits of news about the family and the servants and the village. Isa was prone to writing long letters. Finally, after a paragraph describing an accident with a runaway wagon that had resulted in the loss of two oxen belonging to a family he’d never even heard of before, he found what he was looking for.