The Consort, Chapter 20
Author's Note: I know, I know. Everyone's waiting on tenterhooks for the Big Reunion. I'm sure you are all getting very impatient with me. Trust me, I'm not artificially dragging it out. I haven't been writing this story serially, I wrote it all in one go. The benefit of such an approach is the ability to carve out the story arcs with a more organic pacing. It needs to take Cain this long to get back to DG...and no, they don't reunite in this chapter. But just so you all can relax, I'll tell you that the Big Reunion will occur not in tomorrow's chapter, but in Friday's chapter. I am confident that your patience will be rewarded in a manner that you'll feel is worth the wait.
At least this chapter answers one frequently-asked question, namely, what the heck is up with Ahamo and where the hell is he?
Friday
The next morning, Cain was up with the sun and dressing. He went downstairs and made another sandwich, then scribbled a note to the homeowners, which he left with some money. Thanks for the food and shelter. I borrowed your horse. Hope this covers everything. My apologies for presuming in your absence, I would not have done so if it hadn’t been necessary. Sincerely, Wyatt Cain (you’ll understand by the time you get back)
His conscience placated, he went to the barn and saddled the fittest-looking horse; he was on its back and on his way down the road within minutes.
The greater speed was exhilarating. The wind flew past his face and the miles melted away, although he had a long way to go. If he’d been left just over the Flornish border, that was about the longest distance from Central City you could be in the entire O.Z. He rode just off the paved road to spare his horse’s shoes (and his own ears the racket) and he felt sixteen again, riding on his parents’ homestead in Win-Kia.
He wondered if the house was still there. He’d sold it after the death of his parents and used the money to help set up housekeeping with Adora. Maybe one of these days he’d go back and see. Show Jeb and DG where he’d grown up, take Jeb to his grandparents’ graves.
He thought of the home where DG had spent so many years, on the other side. She’d gone back once to visit, but the place didn’t hold the same appeal for her seeing that her parents weren’t there. She’d made contact with some old friends, but hadn’t seemed to enjoy the experience. “What am I supposed to talk about with my old friends?” she’d said to him, relating the details of her trip. “How my tiaras are just so heavy?”
“You’re not like that,” he’d said.
“No, but that’s what they’d think…if I could even tell them anything about my life at all.”
Cain let his mind wander as he rode, slowing now and then so his horse could catch its breath. The steady rhythm was hypnotic, and the unchanging scenery was playing tricks on his eyes. He kept thinking he saw a clearing ahead that might mean a village or farmhouse, but they all turned out just to be wide spots in the road or areas of light tree cover.
So when he finally did happen on a village, it was a surprise.
Not that it was much of a village; more a gathering of buildings at a crossroads. A general store, a schoolhouse, a blacksmith’s shop. A few homes scattered nearby. But it was a village…and it had power lines.
Cain reined in his horse in front of the general store and was off the animal’s back almost before it stopped moving. He ran in and the surprised proprietor laughed. “Where’s the fire, fella?”
“Do you have a phone?”
“Sure, round the side…uh, you’ll need some change.” Cain fished in his pockets for money and the man gave him change.
“Thanks,” he said over his shoulder as he went around the building. The phone was in a rough wooden booth. He stared at it for a moment, breathing hard. Okay. Just make the call. Try not to sound like a crazy person.
He picked up the receiver. “Central City, exchange 23-34554.”
“Sir…that’s the Spire Palace switchboard.”
“I know what it is. Connect me please.”
Click, click, bleep bloop. Then, the blessed voice…of some guy down in the switchboard room in the fourth sub-level. “Spire Palace Switchroom, this is Orville.”
“Yes! Yes, this is General Cain. Wait, I know what you’re going to say…”
“Well, hi there, General,” the man said, mildly.
Cain was momentarily taken aback. “Uh…hi.”
“Nice of you to call, seeing as tomorrow’s your funeral.”
He took a deep breath. Losing your temper will be very counterproductive right now. “I know everyone thinks I’m dead, but I’m not. Please listen to me. The Longcoats faked my death, and…”
“Sure. Faked your death. That isn’t even the weirdest one I’ve heard today.”
“I’m on the Robber’s Highway and I’m trying to get back…”
“Look, pal, we’re real busy down here and we’ve got half the kingdom coming in for this thing, and you’re wasting my time.”
“No, wait, don’t hang up! My security clearance code is Alpha-Two-Four-Niner!”
“And that means what to me, exactly?”
Cain was stumped. It would mean nothing to him. His code would only be recognized by other people in equally sensitive positions as himself. “Uh…the Queen! Just tell the Queen I’m on the line!”
He could almost hear the line going frosty cold. “You listen up. Whatever sick game you’re playing, don’t drag the Queen into this. She’s lost her husband and she’s all heartbroken and here we get assholes like you, trying to play with her emotions and make her think maybe, just maybe the General isn’t dead. Well, he is, and I’m not letting any of you crazy sons of bitches anywhere near her.”
“Wait…any of us?” Cain said, sidetracked.
“You’re the eighth General Cain who’s called today. It’s a disgrace. I don’t know what you get out of it, some kind of twisted pleasure thinking you’re going to get the Queen’s hopes up and then laugh at her, but I don’t care if you recite the General’s life story, you aren’t talking to anybody else. Goodbye.”
“No, wait!” he scrambled, but it was too late. The line was dead. Cain stared at the headset and slammed it back into the cradle with a frustrated cry.
So much for calling ahead. Maybe if I just keep trying…
No. He didn’t have time to stand here and keep calling over and over and not get any further with it. Frankly, he understood. If he were Orville down in the switchroom and he’d gotten that call, he’d have reacted exactly the same way. He even felt a perverse measure of gratitude to the man for protecting DG from the other seven General Cains who were not him who had called, trying to prey on her grief.
Looks like the ‘I’m not dead’ message is one that needs to be delivered in person.
He turned and went back to the front of the general store, thinking about buying a coffee before heading off again.
There were four large men standing around his horse, waiting for him.
Will they recognize me?
Unlikely. He was wearing a battered farmer’s hat and a bandanna around his neck to keep the dust off, and none of these men would have ever seen him except in print. Experience had also taught him that recognition was a great deal about context. If you saw someone whose face you knew in a totally unexpected circumstance, you weren’t likely to recognize them. They’d probably know him if they saw him on the streets of Central City in a suit with DG on his arm, but not here. “Howdy, fellas,” he said.
“You come in from the Highway?” one of them said. They did not sound friendly.
“I did.”
“What’s your business here?”
“Just on my way to Central City.”
“Lotsa folks goin that way. Goin to that memorial for the General.”
Cain swallowed. “Yeah, that’s where I’m headed, too.”
One of them stepped forward. “We’ve had some problems with Longcoats coming up from that way. Ain’t hardly nothing down there.”
“I’m no Longcoat.”
“Naw, you don’t look it. Might be a highwayman, though. Lotsa traffic, folks going to the City. Maybe you’re fixing to do some robbing again.”
“I’m no highwayman. Just a traveler,” Cain said, holding his hands out, trying to put out his best “I’m harmless” vibe and wishing mightily for his gun.
A man came out of the general store and stopped at his side. “There a problem here?” he said.
Cain shut his eyes. He knew that voice.
No way. It can’t be.
He turned and looked into the face of his father-in-law, scruffy and ponytailed. Ahamo was eyeballing the little ad hoc posse. “Just looking out for highwaymen,” said the ringleader.
“This man’s no robber. We’re on our way to Central City.” Ahamo pulled out a Tin Man badge. “We’re extra help for crowd control during the memorial.”
The villagers’ posture relaxed noticeably. “Sorry bout the misunderstanding, officers.”
“No problem. It’s good of you to keep an eye on traffic on the road.” Ahamo put the badge back in his pocket and stepped off the store’s porch, coming to Cain’s side. “C’mon, partner. Let’s hit the bricks.”
He led Cain to a garage behind the blacksmith’s shop, lit the lantern and shut the door. Only then did he turn to face him, his face creased with amazement and emotion. “My God,” he breathed. “I was afraid to believe it until I saw you with my own eyes.” He came forward and grasped Cain by the shoulders. “It’s really you, isn’t it?”
Cain nodded. “Yeah.”
Ahamo hugged him. Cain stiffened in surprise; Ahamo wasn’t the most demonstrative of men, nor was he himself. “You don’t know what this is going to mean to everyone,” Ahamo said, pulling back.
Cain’s brain was coming out of overload, and a million questions sprang to his mind. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you in the City?”
Ahamo gritted his teeth. “I was…ordered here.”
Cain frowned. “Ordered? By who?”
“I think you know.”
Cain’s stomach dropped to his knees. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“They came to me the day after you left, that Sunday.”
“We’d already been attacked. I was in custody.”
“I know. I was told that they were going to make sure you were released, and I was to wait for you and see that you got back to Central City safely.”
Cain took a step toward him. “I have to get in touch with DG.”
“DG’s all right.”
“All right? All right?” Anger rose in Cain’s chest like a living thing. He seized Ahamo by the lapels. “How all right can she be with a dead husband and an invasion attempt?”
Ahamo’s face darkened. “Do not get me started on that. I didn’t hear about until it was over and she was making national addresses. I have every reason to believe the Order knew it was going to happen and they made me leave the city anyway, made me leave my daughters to face it alone.”
“I have to let her know I’m all right.”
“That’s not so easy, and I gather you found out when you tried to call.”
“There’s got to be a way.”
“There is. We get ourselves to Central City and walk into the Palace. Nobody’s going to believe it until you’re standing right in front of them, anyway. Not until you can be Viewed to prove you’re you, and not some imposter.”
Cain released Ahamo’s coat and took a step back. That actually made some kind of sense. “All right. Let’s not waste any more time talking about it, then. You got a horse?”
“Don’t need one.” Ahamo stepped behind him and flipped a tarp off a long, sleek Bremerhaven roadster. “This gets better steam efficiency.”
They paid a local man to keep Cain’s horse and within fifteen minutes they were in the car, roaring up the Robber’s Highway. “Aren’t you going to ask me what happened?” Cain said, when Ahamo didn’t speak for the first few minutes.
“I know most of it. The Longcoats faked your death and took you away someplace…that’s a little unclear…and you were released yesterday afternoon on the Robber’s Highway.”
Cain stared at him, fury rising in him again. “You knew my death was faked and you didn’t tell anybody? Such as your daughter?”
He sighed. “I hate to see DG in pain. But I didn’t know when I left that she’d ever learn of your supposed death before you were returned home, and once the news broke, I had no way to contact her without jeopardizing my task. The Order was very emphatic about secrecy. DG will recover. Quite quickly, I imagine, once she sees you.” Ahamo glanced at him. “Look, Cain…”
“Don’t, all right? Just don’t. I refuse to get dragged back into all this.”
“It’s a bit late for that.”
“How did they find out, anyway?”
“You and I know that the Order has spies everywhere. Not all of them are human.”
Cain sighed. “The man who held me. He knows of the Order, too.”
Ahamo was silent for a long moment. “How is that possible?”
“There’ve been factions that split off in the past. Dissenters. He sure had the ability to fake death, perhaps he faked his own. He either is or was a member.”
“How could he be a member? He’s the one that took you, while the Order’s been trying to get you back!”
Cain chuckled, a dry and bitter sound. “You don’t know them like I do. I haven’t discounted the possibility that the Order engineered all of this, including my so-called death and the strike on the Palace, for reasons of their own.”
“That’s a distressing thought.”
Cain didn’t respond. There was nothing to say. “Where does DG think you are?” he finally asked, turning to look at Ahamo.
“She doesn’t. Minor enchantment. Anytime anybody starts wondering where I am, they immediately become distracted and forget what they were about to ask. They don’t notice my absence, and when I return they won’t remember that I haven’t been there all along. Those guys back in the village won’t remember seeing me either, just you.”
“I never thought of you as cold, Ahamo, but…deserting your daughter when she’s grieving. That’s cold.”
“I don’t like it any more than you do,” he snapped. “But DG has Azkadellia and Raw and Ambrose, and I am the only other person who knows of the Order who’s in a position to help you.”
“I don’t need your help! I could have gotten back on my own!”
“You don’t know what hostile forces may still be out here.”
“And you do? Jumping at the Order’s beck and call doesn’t make you an expert.”
“I don’t claim to be one. The Order is over my head and I don’t mind admitting it. At least you’re in it.”
Cain shook his head. “Barely. Once upon a time, I knew where the factions stood, and who was in which one. Now, who knows? Eight years in a suit, three in the Palace…a lot of things can change. I don’t know how they feel about DG taking the throne. At least I did the job they drafted me for.”
Ahamo met his eyes. “For which my wife and I owe you a very great debt, Cain. That’s what got me out here, more than just the Order’s say-so.”
A few minutes passed in silence.
“Are we going to make it there in time?”
“In time for what?” Ahamo asked.
“In time to prevent them from holding some public spectacle of a memorial for me.”
“Well…we’ll have to stop overnight to repressurize. And we have to detour around the Witch’s tower. The roads in that area aren’t passable by car. We’ll be cutting it close.” Ahamo glanced at him. “You’re anxious to get back, aren’t you?”
Cain's jaw clenched. “I have to get back to my wife, Ahamo. Surely you can understand that. You were separated from yours for fifteen years. I don’t know how you did it. Five days and I’m about to lose my mind.”
Ahamo said nothing for a few moments. “You know, I never wanted you to marry her,” he finally said.
Cain stared. “I thought it was your idea.”
“Why, just because I was the one who asked you? Hardly. It was the Queen’s idea, and Ambrose’s, and a whole bunch of other courtly types that I wouldn’t trust with my daughter’s welfare. Her mother was thinking of her safety, and the security of her throne. Once the decision was made I didn’t think it was my place to undermine it, so I supported my wife in convincing DG of the necessity. I kept wondering if I was the only one worrying about her happiness.”
“I was worrying about it, too.”
“I know you were. I kept hoping you’d say no, so DG could just take the throne unmarried and find her own Consort in her own time, someone she’d fall madly in love with.” He smiled. “Little did I know that’s exactly what she did when she picked you.”