Secret

This is the sequel to Vengeance. I reccomend you read that first, if you haven't yet.



“I don’t like it,” Aldasha said.
　
“They’re just rumors,” I assured her. “They’ll pass.”
　
“They’re not just rumors, they’re the truth. We both know I really did plan all along to kill my husband and take the throne for myself. “
　
“No, the plan was to go ahead with his plans to marry you, but thwart his plan to kill you and start a war.”
　
“But did it work, or did it only shift the battleground? If people start believing that I’m a murderess who stole the throne--”
　
“They’d know you were still better than your predecessor,” I interrupted firmly.
　
“I know, Onisy killed the previous royal family to take the throne. But how am I any better?”
　
“You don’t know anything about it,” I said.
　
“Maybe I should.”
　
“Then go ask someone else. Order them to tell you, if you must. I won’t speak of it.”
　
“And if I order you to tell me?”
　
“Then you’ll have far more trouble on your hands than a few rumors.”
　
Aldasha knew that what I said was true. I’d helped her get the throne; she couldn’t boss me around just because she sat on it. She never tried. “Any suggestions on who I should ask, then?”
　
“Anyone who was around twelve years ago would know the basics, at least.”
　
Aldasha left the room, and I disappeared into the passages in the walls and followed her.
　
The hidden passages are extensive, running through nearly every wall, with peepholes every few feet, so it was no difficulty to follow Aldasha all the way to the stables.
　
“Nyen?” she called, and I smiled at her choice; the hostler always knew everything that was going on, though he was too close-mouthed to be much of a source of information. “Do you have a moment?”
　
“Of course, you majesty.”
　
Aldasha went straight to the point. “What happened when Onisy took the throne?”
　
Nyen looked at her. “You’ve heard about the rumors.”
　
My smile broadened; he really didn’t miss anything. I made a mental note to recruit him as one of my spies.
　
“I was just wondering,” Aldasha said.
　
“Alright. There’s not much to it, really. It was a king and queen who ruled back then. They were young, and had three children, and… I believe eight nieces, nephews, and cousins. There was no lack of heirs, and the king and queen and their children were well liked. Then Onisy appeared--he was in the army. It was quite small back then, and he rose up through the ranks to general. And then one day, he led a few men into the castle--he was trusted, it wasn’t difficult--and killed the king and queen, and their children, and seven of the other possible heirs. He married the one he let live--she was barely more than a child, and he thought he could control her. When he found out he was wrong, he killed her as well. Everyone hated him, but he had the army on his side, and after he crushed the first uprisings, everyone learned to grumble quietly.”
　
“Thank you,” said Aldasha.
　
“We’re well rid of him,” Nyen told her. “You’ve no call to feel guilty. I don’t know whether it’s true that you planned all along to kill him, and I’m asking, but either way the country’s better off.”
　
“Thank you,” Aldasha said again, and left the stables.
　
“So, did I tell her the right amount?” Nyen asked when she was gone, addressing the peephole I’d been watching through. I was duly impressed.
　
I emerged into the stables. “What do you mean? Surely you told her all there is to tell, if only the bare bones of it.”
　
“You know what I mean.”
　
“Have you ever considered becoming a spy?”
　
“I like my job. And you’re changing the subject.”
　
“You wouldn’t have to quit your job, just pass on anything you happen to learn.”
　
“I’ll keep it in mind. And you’re still changing the subject.”
　
“Yes, you told her the right amount.” I hesitated. “I didn’t know anyone else knew.”
　
“A haircut and a change of clothes, and of course the lack of all that ridiculous makeup, is enough to fool kings and nobles and people who only ever saw you from a distance, and of course, you weren’t seen much at all for a long time. But you’re still the same person.”
　
“You’ve never told anyone?” I asked hopefully.
　
“No. I didn’t even tell the queen, as you just saw. But really, don’t you think she has a right to know?”
　
“I don’t know. Telling her would just make things so uncomfortable. It wouldn’t help anything, and shouldn’t change anything.” Something made me add the real truth. “I don’t like to think about it.”
　
“I’m sure ignoring your past is quite effective at making you forget it.” His tone was neutral, but he was being sarcastic. I scowled at him.
　
“But telling everyone my gruesome story would be so much more effective,” I retorted.
　
I left fully intending to keep my secret. But that evening, when I met with Aldasha, the words spilled out of me almost against my will. “I was Onisy’s first wife.”
　
She stared at me. “What? But… he killed her? And you’re… that means you’re the rightful queen.”
　
I shook my head firmly. “No. I was a second cousin of the queen, and never really in line for the throne, nor have I ever wanted to be.”
　
“How… I’d always heard he killed you. You even told me that Onisy killed his first wife.”
　
“He did his best. It didn’t take. He never knew I was alive. No one ever connected the dead young queen to the girl in the passages. I am not that person anyore, and I don’t want to be.”
　
“So you just want everything to continue on as it is?”
　
“Yes. Though I’d appreciate it if you could stop worrying about how you gained the throne. Think of it as aiding me in my rightful vengeance, of you must. Remember, I was the one who dealt the fatal blow.”
　
Aldasha considered for a long time. “Fine.” She paused, then added, “And I’ll keep your secret.”

A Secret Better Kept

Anyone searching for the truth is trouble, and this woman was no exception. She seemed nice enough, and probably was, but that didn’t mean much—it usually is the nice ones who have trouble clinging to them like flies on carrion.

I knew what she was after as soon as she knocked on my door. “You won’t find it here,” I said.

She was startled, and a little confused, so she ignored my words and went ahead with what she had clearly been planning to say. “My name’s Alkoury. I’m looking for the truth.”

“Like I said, you won’t find it here.” Maybe I should have closed the door in her face, but I live a long way from anywhere, and I thought I might as well hear her out before sending her away empty handed. So I let her in, offered her a drink, and waited for her to start asking questions best left unasked.

Alkoury jumped right into the heart of it. “What really happened in the Cave of Shadows?”

“No,” I said.

She ignored it. “Two men went into that cave, and only you came out, along with something… else. Something evil. It’s still out in the world, wreaking harm. We deserve to know what happened.”

“You don’t really want to know.”

“I do.”

“The truth is like a feral cat,” I warned her. “You might think that you want it, that you can handle it. You might try to tame it, or think that you own it. And then it scratches your eyes out.”

“I think you’re being too hard on feral cats.”

“Perhaps. But we’re not talking about cats.”

“I want the truth,” Alkoury insisted.

“Then you have to hunt it down and capture it.”

“Why not just tell me? Save me the trouble, and get a burden off your chest while you’re at it.”

I shook my head. “Some things are better off kept secret.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“I know. That’s why I won’t tell you.” I wouldn’t have told her anyway. Even those who believe in the value of secrets don’t always keep them. But Alkoury wouldn’t even have tried.

“I will find out,” she said. She probably would.

“Why do you even care?”

“It’s what I do. It’s more than that; it’s who I am. The world has been wondering what happened for ten years, and we deserve to know.”

“Surely it’s not the only secret in the world.”

Alkoury struggled for words. “It’s… I just… I need to do this. It’s pulling at me; I can’t just let it be. I have to know.”

“Like a geas,” I said softly. And my heart sank, for I knew all too well what that kind of irresistible pull can drive you to do. She would not give up, and she would find it.

And we would all be doomed.

So I made a bargain. Not to tell it; nothing would drive me to that. But I told her I’d give her the smallest hint of where to start.

“In exchange, when you’ve found it; you have to return here and speak with me before you reveal it.”

“So you can kill me rather than let it get out?”

“No. If that’s your worry, write it down and make provisions for it to be opened if anything happens to you, as long as you talk to me before telling anyone else.”

She agreed, and I gave her a name, not of someone who knew—I was the only one with that distinction—but of someone who might have known part of it, or where to find someone who knew part of it, or who was at least very observant. Alkoury would have found him anyway, eventually. From his piece of the thread, she would slowly, but not slowly enough, unravel the truth.

It was nearly a year before I saw her again. She had succeeded, if you can call it success. Her shoulders were slumped, and the idealism of one who seeks the truth had been replaced by the disillusionment of one who has found it.

“Congratulations,” I said.

Alkoury scowled at me. “There were three men, who went into the cave, and two came out.”

“That’s right.” She knew now, there was no reason not to confirm it.

“One created a monster, one became a monster, and one… one watched.”

“Yes.” It was an admission. I had been the one who had watched, who had done nothing to stop it.

“How do you think everyone will react when they learn that the beloved ruler of the country is behind the greatest working of evil in ten thousand years?”

“So you still mean to tell them.”

“How can I not?”

“With great difficulty,” I admitted. “It’s not easy to keep such a secret. But you can, if you chose to. You can go home and try to forget what you know, or spend your time thinking of it, but without telling anyone. Alkoury, how do you think people would react?”

“They’d be angry, of course, and lose their faith in the king. But after doing that, he doesn’t deserve their faith, or anything else. At worst he’d be dethroned, and that would probably be a good thing.”

I shook my head. “At best he’d be dethroned. Violently, in a civil war between those who believe you and those who don’t. That’s still the best case. Remember, the evil he created didn’t just affect this country. The rest of the world would be upon us. Or the countries that believed it would be, and some that didn’t would be against them, and the whole world would tear itself apart. Do you really want to be responsible for that?”

“But he can’t just get away with it!”

“He has. I was the only one who ever had a chance to stop him, and I failed to take it.”

“People think he’s a good king! It’s not right.”

“No.”

Alkoury’s face fell into a tragic mask of disillusionment, and I knew she would not tell. It would be hard for her, even harder than it was for me. But she’d been able to find the truth, and she’d be able to hide it.

She realized a few minutes after I did. “I’ll keep the secret.”

“I know.”