Farek’s visit in Soros was not nearly long enough. He spent as much time as he could with his sisters, visited Norrey’s for two separate and very full evenings, and caught up on his rest in the comfortable bed of his home. He had assured Matriarch Valakono that his quest would begin before the Moon had waned, so halfway through, he began preparations for the venture.
All his loyal guards agreed to join him—even Ralla who was not even officially employed by the Gallendris household. Devender, as he had warned, would soon depart. He told Farek he could accompany them to Sheld, and then go his own way.
Before leaving, Farek met with the Mazaar. There were a few topics left undiscussed, and—although Farek would be absent during their fruition—he wanted a hint at what the future might hold. After Jannia poured him wine, Farek asked her, “Would you want to be a Matriarch if you were given the chance?”
Though he had been uncertain if Valakono had sent her a letter as he had suggested, his sister quickly resolved it. She raised an eyebrow. “You mean Valakono’s letter? That’s foul timing for advancing new Matriarchs.”
“Considering our circumstances,” Farek said, “there’s not really any other choice.”
“I know. Our hands have been forced by the times.” Jannia drank somberly. “Our name deserves to be in the history books.”
Farek snorted. “I’m sure it will be.”
“Maybe in relation to this awful war, but I doubt we will see many more Matriarchs die in our day,” his sister said. She took a deep breath. “In any case, we must not allow that to happen, even though it would benefit us.”
Farek nodded. “There’s enough chaos already.” He stood up and crossed to the wide window overlooking the city. From here, he could see down the slope of Coin Hill and out across the darkly shingled rooftops of the city. It was starting to drizzle—dark shadows drifted down from the vertex of each steeple. “How have things been while I was away? Have you heard anything interesting?”
He heard Jannia shift behind him, turning from her desk to face his back. “Thrane is trying to court the entire populace of Lo Mallago, it seems, while growing steadily more angry at Lord Mavagar. It seems the latter regularly boasts to the former of his success across the Bay. I haven’t been able to get a clear answer as to what success Paral has seen, but he assures Thrane and me that it will reward us greatly when the time is right.”
It was Farek’s turn to raise an eyebrow as he looked back at her. “Why hide something that is supposed to benefit us?”
“He claims that his contact in Lo Mallago insists. Apparently revealing the nature of their plans would jeopardize his ally’s position,” Jannia explained. She paused and rubbed her temples. “It’s possible Paral Mavagar might return to his old ways, but I’m actually inclined to trust him this once. Lo Mallago is a web of schemes and unclear alliances. A dozen secrets could compromise Rebel King Borik’s position, so certainly such secrets could compromise others, too.”
“I’ll trust your judgement then,” Farek said, and finished his wine.
Jannia stood up, sensing Farek’s impending departure. She set aside her wine glass.
“If I die,” Farek began, grinning, “Simi gets all my things.”
“Things?” Jannia asked. “What things?”
Farek chuckled and stepped closer to her. They embraced—a rare occurrence between the professional ruler of Soros and her trusted right-hand man. It wasn’t as long as Farek’s hugs with Simi, but it was enough.
And Simi, of course, was an even harder farewell to make. Farek found her in her quarters this time, and she was already halfway through the books he had brought her. He hadn’t even seen the knife he had bought Jannia—not since he had given it to her. Farek told Simi about Ofena, as she had requested, and told her that the Lo Mallago guild-woman might send a letter for him.
“Of course,” Simi replied, when asked to keep an eye out for correspondence. “I’ll even reply with my best attempt at your… legendary charm.” She winked.
“Please don’t fake my signature and appeal,” Farek rebutted with a grimace. “I’m afraid it would be impossible.”
“Oh, appeal? One of the servants was just in here—I mistook him for you and accidentally said ‘goodbye, brother’ to him…” Simi laughed, rising out of her charm with mock grief. Then she winced. “Did I go too far?”
“I had hoped you’d be able to recognize me better, what with the whole sibling bond and such,” Farek rambled.
“Sorry, sorry,” Simi defended, smiling.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t stay longer, this time,” Farek said, more seriously.
“It’s fine,” Simi said. After a pause, she explained, “Dorean and I are more serious about our relationship than I’ve ever been with anyone before. I still can’t believe that he’s stuck with me through… well, everything that’s happened. So, don’t worry about me. Just look forward to some parties when you get back. And maybe a wedding…” She winked again.
“I’d be very sorry if I missed that,” Farek said. Thoughtfully, he added, “I like Dorean.”
“Oh, I’m not getting married until my brother is here to hold my hand on the way,” she said. “There are no plans yet. I’m just giving you something to look forward to on your return that isn’t… you know, Ofena.”
Farek chuckled. “Trust me: you are plenty enough.” He grabbed her for an embrace, sweeping her into his arms. She pressed against him. “I hope I don’t fail. I would hate to lose, but only because I would lose everything if I do.”
“You? Fail?” Simi questioned. “If this war isn’t sorted out by the time you return, you’ll know how to protect us even then. With allies or some plan. We’ll get through it together.”
Farek laughed again. “Careful! My ego may inflate even more than humanly possible.” He squeezed her once more and let go. It was past time to set sail.
“Smooth seas!” his little sister called as he headed for the door.
Farek waved back at her. “Drive Jannia mad on my behalf!” As he crossed the threshold, he felt his short-lived humour fade. He closed the door on Soros once more, and strode out toward the waiting reaches of Gethra.