Daughter Of The Lioness - Trickster's Choice Part 11

Aly smiled and bowed, now the mysterious mage. "Say rather, my lady, they speak to me." It's the truth, too, she thought, waiting for the young n.o.blewoman to make up her mind. For once it would have been useful if I were Mother, she added ruefully. When she tells people to do things, they snap to. Of course, she isn't a slave in a hostile country.

"Has this got anything to do with Papa and the d.u.c.h.ess's talking to you every night behind closed doors?" asked Dove.

Aly glanced at the younger girl, all thoughts of her mother gone. "Oh, my lady, you give me far too much credit," she said, meeting Dove's stern gaze with amus.e.m.e.nt. "As if the likes of them would have serious talk with the likes of me." Behind her humorous mask she mentally kicked herself. She had to remember that Dove was quick and perceptive!

Sarai beckoned to Fesgao, who waited at a slight distance with Dove's bodyguard and the horses. The raka led Sarai's mount forward with his own. She swung herself into the saddle. "You'd better keep up," she told Fesgao. With that, she kneed her mare into a trot, then a gallop. Fesgao urged his mount after Sarai, who rode as if she were a centaur and one creature with her horse.

"She's the best horsewoman I know," Dove remarked as her guard brought her mount. "If Mother could ride like Sarai, she'd be alive now. Sarai never would have tried that jump, not without knowing what lay on the other side." She mounted and followed her sister to the castle, her guard at her side.

Aly turned to Visda. "Watch my goats for me?" she asked.

The girl nodded. "The dogs won't mind," she told Aly with a grin.

Aly raced up into the rocks, bound for the ones that afforded a clear view of the distant road. As she climbed, she realized that she needed to cut herself free of the goats. She had covered all of the ground reachable with a herd in tow. Today she'd been lucky to have Visda there when the alarm sounded.

Otherwise she might have been forced to leave the goats, risking the loss of some, if not all. They couldn't afford to lose a single animal, and she needed more freedom of movement.

Panting, she approached the highest point of a giant slab of granite. Once there, she lay down until only her head rose above the stone, noting the crows scattered among the rocks and trees between her position and the road. Now that she was visible to them, they fell silent. Here came the new arrivals, clothed luarin-style in tunics and breeches, their armor and weapons glinting in the sun. Their pack animals were heavily laden, as if for a long march or a long stay. At the head of their double column rode a helmeted man in light armor. Aly sharpened her Sight to get a better look, as the Balitang men-at-arms who were posted to watch the road motioned for him to stop.

She instantly recognized the leader. Silently she wriggled back from her vantage point until she could turn over and stare at the sky. Prince Bronau. Why was he here? Had he come as the duke's friend or as a servant of the Crown? If so, what were the Crown's orders?

She hummed to herself, thinking. If Bronau had been ordered to capture or kill the duke and his family, he hadn't brought enough men. He knew how many trained soldiers the duke had, because he had seen them off on their journey north. For all he knew, the duke might have added new fighters on the way. Aly smiled.

Actually, the duke had done just that, binding the six bandits to him with blood. Their families had trickled up to Tanair, solidifying the former bandits'

allegiance to the duke, who now fed and housed them.

Carefully, she rolled onto her stomach and crept back to her vantage point, bringing her magical Sight to bear on the prince once more. Bronau looked to be in a good mood, joking with the roadside guards as they waved him on. The guards' messenger was already leading his horse out of the shelter of the rocks.

As soon as he reached flat ground he rode off at a gallop, carrying the word of the new arrivals to the duke and d.u.c.h.ess, not knowing that Sarai would be there before him.

Aly continued to inspect Bronau's party. The servants who rode behind the prince also looked relaxed and comfortable. If Bronau's errand was a violent one, surely his attendants and soldiers would be more wary. These soldiers looked as if the only thing on their minds was shedding their armor on this hot, sunny day.

Aly slid down the granite slab. She wouldn't know anything more until tonight, when she could collect the gossip at Tanair.

The d.u.c.h.ess, however, had other plans. Aly and Visda were about to eat lunch when one of Lokeij's boy hostlers rode up on Winnamine's own gelding. "Her Grace asks for you to attend her, Aly," the lad told her, dismounting. "I'm to take the goats and you're to report to Her Grace in the keep. Hullo, Visda." When Aly blinked at him, caught off balance, the boy rolled his eyes and thrust the reins at her. "I know you're practically fresh-caught, but even you ought to know better than to keep the mistress waiting."

"Oh-yes, of course," Aly stammered. She mounted the gelding clumsily, so that the two watching her wouldn't mention how curiously at home Aly was on horseback, and set out, with much flailing and rein tugging, back toward the road. Only when she knew Visda and the boy couldn't see her anymore did she kick the horse into a gallop.

She slowed when she came within view of Tanair's walls but kept the gelding at a trot up to the castle, allowing herself to bounce on his back like the greenest of riders. Lokeij himself took the reins from her as she tumbled from the saddle. "You need practice," he told Aly, grinning.

"Not on your life," she gasped, as if she had never had to ride before. She lurched into the keep.

Dove waited for her at the door. "Shewants you," she told Aly, and towed her into a small room off the main hall. Normally it was a study, but Winnamine stood there now with a basin of steaming water, a towel, soap, and a clean tunic and leggings.

"Thank you, Dovasary," she said. "Close the door behind you." Dove obeyed.

Winnamine turned to Aly. "Wash up, please," she ordered. "I have just promoted you to maidservant. You'll serve the wine right now, while my lord entertains Prince Bronau, and at table tonight. Ordinarily I would do it myself, but we have no housekeeper now, which means I must make all of their sleeping arrangements."

"Could not Ulasim . . . ?" Aly inquired.

The d.u.c.h.ess shook her head. "Ulasim is off with the men cutting wood for our fires. How could he know we were to have company? Which means I must take charge of our servants and make room for Bronau and his train. Besides, if you are to be our advisor, now is a good time to start. I would like to know what you make of Bronau's presence. You may see things with your fresh gaze that His Grace and I would not, having been friends with the prince all our adult lives."

"The duke does not expect me to wait on them?" Aly wanted to know.

"No," Winnamine replied calmly, "but I can't arrange this any other way. He may be polite and ask you to stand where you can't hear them, but at least you'll be able to form an impression of the prince. Is he hiding anything, is he uncomfortable, is he frightened . . ." Winnamine sighed. "I wish he'd given us warning!"

"I'm honored to serve, Your Grace," Aly told her mistress smoothly. "It won't matter if His Grace asks me to stand out of earshot. I read lips."

Winnamine put her hands on her hips and looked down the three inches between her eyes and Aly's. "Well! Now there's a bit of luck! Or maybe not luck, with a G.o.d involved. You read lips. Amazing."

Aly grinned. "I thought you might feel that way about it, Your Grace," she replied.

"I am grateful for any advantage," the d.u.c.h.ess confided. "What a mess! Let's have that tunic off, Aly." As she helped Aly to pull the dirty tunic over her head, Winnamine continued to speak, thinking aloud. "We'll give the second floor to him and his servants. My lord and I will share with Sarai and Dove. His men will have to sleep in the new guest quarters. We haven't got enough beds, but I won't quarter them on the villagers. Our people work hard enough to feed and house themselves. I wish Bronau had known what a burden he was placing on us.

Chances are he didn't know how small this place is. At least you don't need a comb."

Aly soaped her hands and arms. "Why me, Your Grace?" she asked. "Why not a regular maid? You asked for me before I told you I read lips."

The d.u.c.h.ess rubbed cream onto her hands. They were trembling. "We've tried to put a good face on it, for the servants, and the children, but Aly, we are in mortal peril. Two years ago . . ." Her voice shook.

Aly looked around the room and spied a pitcher and cups on a tray. The pitcher held water. She poured some into a cup and offered it to Winnamine. The older woman took it with both hands and drank. When she had composed herself, she said evenly, "His Majesty dreamed that his son Hanoren turned into a rat and bit him.

Hanoren and all his household were nailed to crosstrees along Rajmuat harbor."

Her mouth twisted bitterly. "Needless to say, shipping fell off badly that year."

Aly started to say she knew the story, but held her tongue. It was not something a country maid would have heard.

"Now my lord and I are out of royal favor," Winnamine said, returning her cup to Aly. "The king might still dream about us. And here is Bronau. His could be the breath of wind that knocks us into Rajmuat harbor."

Aly removed her leggings and pulled the clean clothes on, watching the d.u.c.h.ess through her eyelashes. "Is this your only reason for calling on me, Your Grace?"

Winnamine twisted a handkerchief in her fingers. "Bronau is amusing, charming, and careless. He goes after what he wants. When he doesn't want it anymore, he drops it. We live on the edge of the king's suspicions, Aly, and Bronau doesn't think. The G.o.d says we must trust your insights. I mean to place you where you will get them." She got to her feet and left as Aly straightened her clothes.

Watching the d.u.c.h.ess go, Aly glimpsed a flicker of orange the shade of Dove's gown as the door opened. She wondered how long Dove had been listening. If Dove was going to make a habit of it, she ought to learn that anyone who looked at the opening between door hinges would see a color that didn't match that of the door.

The d.u.c.h.ess returned with the wine tray, two pitchers, and cups. "Don't kneel, just bow. Serve the prince first," she told Aly. "The pitcher with the mermaid on the grip is for Mequen. The wine in it is well watered. Fill Bronau's cup as often as you can, of course. Wine always loosens his tongue, another thing that makes him a perilous friend."

Aly nodded. Balancing it carefully, she carried the heavy tray up the stairs to the family's private chambers.

A footman let her into the duke's sitting room, now given over to the prince.

Mequen and Bronau sat in chairs on either side of a table, perfectly relaxed.

Aly bowed and set the tray down, ignoring the duke's questioning eyes. She poured out a cup of wine from the unmarked pitcher for the prince and one from the mermaid pitcher for the duke. Mequen accepted the cup with a slight frown.

"Will Her Grace not be joining us?" he asked, obviously puzzled.

"She is finding quarters for His Highness's servants and guards," Aly said with a polite bow. "She sends her regrets."

Mequen's frown deepened. "Then why does she not ask the house-" He stopped abruptly, then sighed. "I had forgotten. We no longer have a housekeeper." To Bronau he said, "I didn't realize what a spoiled creature I had become until we had to make do with twenty-odd servants and slaves instead of over a hundred. I think you'll like this vintage, Your Highness." To Aly he said, "Stand by the far wall, please, Aly. Out of earshot."

As she obeyed, Bronau asked, "Do your people expect us to drink ourselves under the table, sending up two pitchers?" He and Mequen touched cups and tasted their wine.

"Actually, I've been drinking the local brew, to help the villagers make a little extra coin against the winter," the duke replied easily. "It's crude stuff, but if I don't drink it after I buy it, they'll return my money. Proud people, these highlanders. I won't subject you to it. What you have is a proper wine laid down by my father."

"It has a southern taste," Bronau admitted, drinking. "You coddle your people, Mequen."

"It would be different in Rajmuat," Mequen admitted. "We're isolated here, and must depend on these folk to get us through the winter."

Aly took her place and read the men's speech on their lips. She also employed her Sight to catch any lies.

"King Oron has turned that suspicious gaze onme now," Bronau told his friend.

"The old man gets stranger with each sunrise. He's hiding in his quarter of the palace, has been for weeks. All of his food is tested for poison. He had your old friend Athan Fajering executed for-are you ready for this?-wrong thoughts."

Mequen turned white under his summer tan. "But Athan was his chancellor for eighteen years!"

Bronau nodded. "He was also an enemy of my dear sister-in-law Imajane, and my charming brother Rubinyan. You know Rubinyan has never been that fond of me,"

Bronau continued. "When Oron started to watch me, I started to think that Imajane and Rubinyan might well decide to inform him that I have 'bad thoughts,'

too."

Mequen sighed, shaking his head. "I wish that you and Rubinyan would reconcile.

It grieves me that my two best friends are at odds. And I think you wrong your brother, suggesting that he is turning the king against you. Rubinyan is a good man," he said earnestly, almost pleading. "He is reserved, and hard to know, but he is a wise and strong ally."

Bronau shook his head. "You always think the best of people, Mequen. If he is so good, why didn't he come to see you off?"

After a few more attempts, Mequen gave up trying to get the prince to see his brother in a kinder light. "One day, mark my words, you'll change your tune about Rubinyan," he said.

"The two of them are isolating that old fool Oron," Bronau said after his fourth cup of wine. "Soon he'll see only Imajane and Rubinyan, and one day they'll come to tell the court he's dead. They also spend plenty of time with Prince Hazarin," the prince confided. "I have to hope they don't turn Oron's most likely heir against me."

"Don't be ridiculous," Mequen a.s.sured him. "Hazarin likes you. He always says the rest of court's much too grim when you're away."

"The rest of the court is terrified of Oron," Bronau replied with a laugh. "They don't dare twitch."

At last Winnamine came to say a hot bath awaited Bronau. Mequen shooed Aly out.

She gathered up the wine tray and cups while he and Winnamine told Bronau they would see him at supper. Once they were outside, Winnamine put the tray on a side table and indicated that her husband and Aly should go upstairs. She led the way into the sitting room of what had once been Sarai and Dove's chambers.

Neither girl was in sight.

The duke and d.u.c.h.ess took seats as Aly checked the door to the servants' stair.

She could hear the maids preparing rooms for the prince and his servants. To be on the safe side, when she closed the door, she pulled the carpet up until it covered the s.p.a.ce where the door didn't quite touch the stone floor, and stuffed the rag she used as a handkerchief in the keyhole. Then she covered the crack under the main door. She found a dust cloth and stuffed a corner of it into the keyhole. Then she opened the door to the older girls' bedchambers so that she would see if anyone came in that way. At last she nodded to her masters.

Mequen looked at his wife. "My dear, why send Aly to wait on us?" he wanted to know. "I know you were busy with your domestic arrangements, but surely one of the girls with experience waiting on the n.o.bility would have served." He smiled kindly at Aly. "Though you did a creditable job."

"Aly isn't used to Bronau as we are, my dear," Winnamine explained. "She might see what would be hidden to us. And she has certain useful skills."

"Useful?" Mequen asked, raising his brows at Aly.

"I read lips, Your Grace," Aly said meekly. "And I can tell you that the prince is telling the truth about why he came."

"What? How could you possibly know that?" the startled duke demanded.

"Liars blink more when they lie, or they look away while they answer," Aly explained. She did not want anyone to know about her Sight if she could help it.

Only a fool told all of her secrets. "The prince is frightened." She looked at the duke. "Did you see he was sweating when he talked about the situation at court?"

Mequen raised his eyebrows. "All of us sweat when we think of the royal court,"

he said drily. "I am so accustomed to it that I didn't even notice. Truly, the G.o.d blessed us when he sent you." He held Aly's gaze with his own. "But he didn't bless you, did he?"

"I am Your Grace's servant," Aly told him, wide-eyed and earnest.

"Very courtier-like," remarked the duke. "One would think you a practiced a.s.sociate of kings."

Aly had to shoo him away from this line of thought. She beamed at him. "So many compliments from Your Grace tonight!" she said, allowing her lashes to flutter.

"I will become conceited, and the other servants will be hurt that they have not drawn your gracious attention."

"Aly, the Players lost a star performer when you didn't elect to train as a professional fool," the d.u.c.h.ess said with a smile.

Aly shrugged comically. "The Players' loss is Your Graces' gain," she said, then added as a deliberate afterthought, "Mine, too, of course." She looked at the duke. "Truly, Your Grace, why fidget over what use the G.o.d makes of insignificant me?"

"Because I receive better service from someone who is happy," replied Mequen.

"Because you are not insignificant, however much you may jest about it. And we know so little about you, except that bright Mithros says you will guide us through great trouble. Don't blame a man for curiosity, messenger." He looked at his d.u.c.h.ess and sighed. "Well, my dear?"

From the corner of her eye, Aly saw orange cloth in the crack between the door to the bedroom and the wall. She really would have to suggest better ways for Dove to eavesdrop.

"We can accommodate them. Barely," Winnamine replied, bringing Aly's attention back to the duke and d.u.c.h.ess. "We're putting his men-at-arms up in the new barn.

They're not at all pleased, but they have no choice. What of our people? Shall we send them out of the great hall at mealtimes?"

Mequen shook his head. "Perhaps if Bronau sees how limited our s.p.a.ce is, he'll rusticate somewhere else. Besides, our people earn their place in the hall through their work."

Realizing they had finished with her, Aly murmured a farewell, bowed, and went to the main door of the suite. Carefully she returned the rug to its correct position and removed the dust cloth from the keyhole.

"You'll remember to pour the wine at the head table at supper, won't you, Aly?"

asked the d.u.c.h.ess.

Aly turned and bowed. "Of course, Your Grace."