Firekeeper Saga - Wolf's Head, Wolf's Heart Part 50

Xarxius ate a few bites of his meal, then ran his tongue lightly around his lips before continuing.

"It is also said that Firekeeper is in some way magically gifted-though fearing sorcery as they do, those of Hawk Haven do not state it precisely that way. What is not in doubt is that she commands two beasts-a peregrine falcon and a timber wolf-who obey her slightest whim. I saw the girl myself when I was an observer at the recent war, and while I was in no position to judge whether she is magically gifted or not, I will say without question that she is very odd."

Grateful Peace nodded. Xarxius's account was filling in gaps in what he recalled.

"One more question," Peace said. "Then I promise to tell let you dine while I tell you all I know. I also promise to answer any questions you may present."

"Fair," Xarxius agreed. "Ask."

"What-if any-relationship do these two have with Lady Melina Shield? I don't just mean kinship-though I know the Hawk Havenese count this as important. I am also interested in matters of personal history."

"Well," Xarxius drawled, and Peace could see the true smile within the paint, "Lady Blysse-this Firekeeper-did slay Lady Melina's brother."

Peace blinked and Xarxius, with a chuckle, continued: "Lady Melina's brother was Prince Newell, the widower of Tedric's second child, his daughter Lovella.

Although it has been kept somewhat quiet-probably in the interests of sparing House Gyrfalcon embarra.s.sment-Prince Newell attempted to murder King Tedric during the final battles of King Muster's War."

Peace nodded. He remembered reading a report of this, though he didn't think the report had emphasized that Prince Newell was a Shield. He thought he might have a.s.sumed that Newell was of Tedric's own house. It was so difficult to keep these foreign relationships straight! Moreover, Peace's own duties involved internal politics, not external.

"Prince Newell would probably have succeeded," Xarxius said around a mouthful of bread, "but this Firekeeper somehow got wind of what he was doing and interrupted him. I understand that she herself was nearly slain in the process."Smiling ironically, Peace nodded again.

"So Lady Melina has reason to hate this Lady Blysse."

"Reason enough," Xarxius agreed. "Now, tell me, is it coincidence that you ask me these questions just a few days after my own informants reported to me that this very Lady Blysse and Sir Jared-along with several companions-have come to Dragon's Breath and are dwelling here? Their apparent purpose is to pursue the practice of medicine, but my informants tell me that Lady Blysse and an intimate companion-one Derian Carter, who incidently is an advisor to King Tedric-have been prowling the city as if seeking something."

"It is no coincidence," Grateful Peace replied. Concisely, but omitting not one essential detail, he told Xarxius about the news Kistlio had brought that afternoon and how Lady Melina had reacted.

"And you feared for the safety of our honored guest," Xarxius said when he finished. "How admirable!"

Peace did not have to have known his fellow Three for these past fifteen years to hear the hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"I think not," he said. "I have reason not to fear for Lady Melina, but to fear her."

Xarxius stared at him for a long moment. Then slowly, portentously, he nodded a.s.sent.

"I, too, fear her. I know, I know," he added hastily, "I was among those who agreed that her interesting proposal was worth pursuing-although I noted to Apheros that a mind which could come up with such an intricate plan involving so many levels of betrayal bore careful watching."

Xarxius's voice dropped to a hound-dog bay. "But I never believed that she possessed such power as she has shown here."

"You've seen it, too, then!" Peace's voice nearly broke with relief. He had expected to spend long hours convincing Xarxius of the reality of what he had observed.

"I have." Xarxius frowned. "I thought that I had even seen her mark on you, old friend, but I must have been mistaken."

Peace shook his head.

"You were not. She set that mark upon me-possibly as we traveled from the Stone Giant Inn to Dragon's Breath-but whatever her power is it must need some maintenance. With bigger fish to catch, she let me idle in her nets. I slipped through the meshes."

Xarxius sighed deeply. "Lady Melina may have overextended herself, too. Both Apheros and the Healed One are definitely under her influence. Many of the Primes are at least open to her suggestion-open enough to eliminate their normal dislike of a foreigner."

"And some are more receptive than that," Grateful Peace added. "There are those who look to Lady Melina for guidance and rea.s.surance. Yet even as they do so, they seem unaware."

Xarxius nodded. "I saw what was happening, but I didn't know what I could do-one man, alone.

Finally, I decided that the wisest course for me was to avoid her as much as possible and to do everything I could to hasten the awakening of the artifacts. Then she would take her share, go home, and we could return to our usual lives."Grateful Peace took a deep breath.

"Xarxius," he said seriously, "I'm not sure that Lady Melina intends to go home..."

The hound-dog face stared at him in disbelief. With immense care, Peace told him what he had seen, ending with those two severed fingers and the news that Baron Waln Endbrook was almost certainly alive.

Chapter XXIX.

"So we have a map," Elise said, inspecting Edlin's completed work that evening after dinner, "and it seems to be a fine one. Now what do we do with it?" Their makeshift household was gathered in Doc's consulting room. The kitchen-filled with the warmth of both ovens and hearth, scented with the spices Wendee had used in preparing that night's dinner-would have been more comfortable, but Hasamemorri or one of her maids was always trotting in or out.

Tonight, when they needed to plan the next stage in their campaign, they required privacy. Chairs had been carried in for all but Firekeeper. The polished maple table on which Doc's instruments were usually spread had been pulled away from the wall and the chairs set about it. Edlin's map had been tacked to the wall in sight of all.

"What do we do with this map now that we have it?" Elise repeated.

She knew she sounded cross, but somehow she couldn't help herself. The first patients had arrived at dawn. Although the usual round of winter complaints-coughs and wheezes and stuffy heads-could have been treated with powders and poultices purchased from any reliable alchemist, Doc's reputation as a miracle worker was such that any with money to spare arrived at their door.

Since Elise had agreed to sort the patients into categories-leaving Sir Jared free to treat those who truly needed him-it fell to her to tell over half of those who lined their hallway that the doctor would not see them, that he recommended that they go to the nearest alchemist (Oculios in this case) and purchase the appropriate preparations.

Most departed meekly, as if knowing that what had prompted them to come here in the first place had been curiosity more than anything else. Some, however, grew obstreperous. More than once Lord Edlin had been called away from his cartography and forced to bodily oust some complaining wretch.

Fortunately, Edlin seemed amused at being asked to act as a house guard. They had yet to meet anyone who could both wrestle with a strapping young n.o.bleman and convincingly maintain their complaint that they were so infirm that they must see the doctor.

"Well, it's a map," Edlin said, looking at her with concern. "We use it to plan our campaign, what?"

He beamed at her. He had every right to be pleased with his handiwork. The reports of crow and falcon had been transformed into straight walls and curving towers. Colored pencils had been used to tint different structures so they could be referred to at a glance. Guards were indicated in red; areas where people-servants and such-tended to cl.u.s.ter had been shown by green dots.

Somehow what Lord Edlin had created was more than a static map-it was a drawing representing a living community, a reminder that the place they must seek to infiltrate was filled with people going abouttheir daily business.

Elise despaired of their ever being able to get more than ten feet inside the gates without being detected.

From those patients she did not send away, she had gathered that even to most residents of the city Thendulla Lypella was a mystery, a fine, secret place where the primes met in conclave, the Healed One resided, and from which the Dragon Speaker coordinated the complex resources of the kingdom.

Even the few who had worked inside or knew someone who had worked in the citadel could tell little.

Servants were not encouraged to wander outside of where they performed their responsibilities. Those who waited upon those personages privileged to be given residence within the walls were usually housed within. It was said that the most private areas were tended by slaves purchased from Waterland. These unfortunates never left Thendulla Lypella.

"So we can make plans," Elise said. "Well, very good, let's do just that. Well?"

She realized that everyone was staring at her and had the grace to color. Finally, Derian; braver than the rest or perhaps merely more accustomed to the whims of females spoke: "We all agree that our target is the tower Lord Edlin has shaded in blue, right?"

There were nods all around.

"Unhappily for us, it is not freestanding. Rather it tops a large, rectangular structure-a structure that may or may not be connected to those closest to it."

Derian rose from his chair, pointing with a slim stick swiped from the kindling basket to the light lines Edlin had shaded to indicate places where the information their avian spies had given them was less than perfect.

Elation, perched on the back of his chair, squawked some comment or protest. Firekeeper shushed her.

No one else seemed to notice.

My first council of war, Elise thought. How odd. I just realized that this is my first council of war.

When I am the Baroness Archer I will be expected to attend many of these-unless I want to be dismissed to the ranks of the noncombatants as my mother and Uncle Aksel Trueheart always are.

When Sapphire is queen will she respect those who love conflict less than she? King Tedric does, but Sapphire...

Elise straightened in her seat, recognizing the second component contributing to her crossness. It wasn't just that she was tired. That was part of it, but the truth was, she was afraid, afraid deep down inside, because she knew that whoever was chosen to go inside those walls she must accompany them-she, because she alone spoke the language well enough to pa.s.s for a native.

And I want to sit back with the ladies, sit back as I did whenever we went hawking. Ever and always I have left the real risks to others. My grandfather was raised to the ranks of the n.o.bles because of his courage-I pray to the green-eyed Lynx that some of his blood still runs in my veins.

Sir Jared, braced from the several cups of strong tea he had drunk with his dinner, leaned closer to get a better look at the map.

"It seems to me," he said, "and I'll be the first to admit that I am no tactician, that the gate there-south of the big orange building-is the most promising. It has only two guards on it and seems fairly close to our goal."Firekeeper laughed softly.

"So think I, Doc," she said, "until I go look at it with my eyes. That gate need only two guards because all building near have many windows looking out at it. Also, gate faces on a busy street. It is for..."

The wolf-woman looked at Derian, seeking a word she lacked.

"Processions," Derian supplied, "parades and the like. It seems to be largely ceremonial in function. I can't recall having seen it opened, and a few cautious questions to our young guide seem to confirm that it is used infrequently."

"Just goes to show," Doc said, not at all nonplussed at having his suggestion so thoroughly shot down, "how a map is one thing, but knowledge is another."

Wendee seemed about to offer a suggestion of her own, when there came a knock on the front door.

She saw Elise automatically start to rise and pressed her down with a friendly hand.

"Stay put, Lady Elise. You've been answering that all day while I drank tea in the kitchen."

Elise smiled at her gratefully.

"Sure, Wendee. When you're not running off to the market, cooking for a winter-lean household, and taking care of the mending, cleaning, and all else. Then you might have a cup of tea."

Wendee chuckled as she left, saying, "I'll tell them you're not home, Doc."

When she returned a few moments later, her face was oddly pale and all traces of laughter were gone.

She closed the door deliberately, but even when the heavy oak was between her and the hallway, she spoke in hushed tones.

"There's a man out there-a rich one I'd say from his clothes. I couldn't see his face-he kept his hood up even when he stepped inside-but there's something about him that says he's used to being obeyed.

He wants to see all of us. He knows our names and everything."

"Not a patient then?" Doc queried.

"I don't think so."

Derian quickly pulled loose the pins that tacked the map to the wall and hid it away.

"Do we see him?" he asked.

Firekeeper nodded. "He knows our names, better we know his-and his odor, too-than to go jumping from shadows."

Elise felt herself agreeing and heard Wendee depart. She reentered a moment later escorting the stranger.

The cloak he wore was thick black wool, its hood pulled to shadow his features. In the flickering lamplight, it was easy to fancy that he had no face at all.

Derian glanced at Doc and Elise as if expecting one of them to take charge. When neither did so-Elise, still recovering from her momentary fancy, seemed to lack the will-he spoke: "Greetings. Who are you and what brings you to us?"

The cloaked figure shifted slightly as if studying them all."Bold words, blunt and direct, such I would expect from a mere youth who counsels kings."

They waited for the stranger to say more. When he did not, Derian prompted.

"You seem to know us, sir. Who are you?"

Almost reluctantly, the man let his hood drop back. His face had been shaded in degrees of grey and black through which could be seen several tattoos. Like all the upper-cla.s.s New Kelvinese, his hair was shaved to a point roughly above his ears. The hair remaining was as white as sun-bleached bone. His eyes were impossible to see behind tinted gla.s.ses.

Elise judged their visitor to be somewhere past fifty, healthy, but not given overmuch to exercise. She realized that these last a.s.sessments were the result of her recent work. Before she would have said that he was too ordinary-looking-if one left out the facial decorations and peculiar hairstyle-to be handsome, but too distinguished to be plain.

"My name," their visitor said, "is Grateful Peace and I come to you in what I hope is shared cause, for I am the enemy of one of your countrywomen-of Lady Melina Shield."

Grateful Peace looked at the gathered foreigners before him with a consternation he felt certain that he had managed to hide before they detected it.

There were six in all in the group: three women and three men. Additionally, there were three animals in the room. Two were birds-one surely the peregrine falcon of which Grateful Peace had already heard, the other a large, black bird, either a raven or crow. He thought raven from its size, though it seemed to lack the heavier beak of the raven, possessing instead the slimmer lines of the crow. Maybe it was some southern variety he had not encountered.

Peace had little attention to spare for the birds, however remarkable they might be. Xarxius had told him that Lady Blysse, the Firekeeper, was accompanied by a wolf, but no words could have prepared Peace for the reality of the animal who-at his entrance-had risen to its feet and now stood glowering at him with uncannily blue eyes. It was a timber wolf, most surely, its thick coat in hues of grey, touched with brown and bits of white, but a timber wolf the size of a pony.

The wolf filled the room with its presence, yet none of the humans seemed to notice it, none but the dark-haired young woman who sat on the floor beside it, one hand resting lightly on the wolf's flank, the other hovering in the vicinity of a large knife belted at her waist.

Peace was curious about her, but some sixth' sense he had gained as the Dragon's Eye told him that she was not the one to address first. Instead he directed his attention to the others.

The two remaining women were fair. The elder of the fair women was the one who had opened the door to him and spoken with him in New Kelvinese that seemed to mix archaic phrases with the more modern argot of the marketplace. She was quite attractive, possessed of a full, womanly figure and bright eyes that he fancied could show laughter easily.

There was no laughter in her now, however. She stood by the door through which she had admitted him to this inner chamber, having shut it as soon as he had crossed the threshold. She made no move to act further, but looked to her companions for guidance.

This came not from the redhead who had spoken to him on his arrival, but from the second of the fair-haired women-a young woman, barely out of girlhood and showing the potential for great beauty.It was this woman who, despite her youth, recovered first from the evident shock of the announcement with which he had greeted them. Rising from her seat, she addressed him in his own language.

"I am Lady Elise Archer," she said, "as you already seem to know."

"I know the names, certainly," Peace replied, "but am grateful to have your aid at attaching them to their correct owners."