The Dragonstone

CHAPTER 40

In the candlemark before dawn, Egil began to moan in his sleep as another of his nightly ill dreams beset him; as if it were somehow contagious, Alos, too, began thrashing about… and meeping. Aiko shook the oldster awake, and he raised up and looked about wildly, lost for a moment, but then with a groan he fell back onto the couch and pulled the cover over his head. In the canopied and curtained bed, Arin tried to awaken Egil, but could not until the flaying of Sturgi was complete. When sanity returned to Egil, he held onto Arin and wept and swore vengeance against Ordrune once the quest for the green stone was complete.

They settled back for what little remained of the night, yet when they finally awoke, the sun was well up in the sky.

Egil called for Dolph to help him prepare baths, and he and the lad filled tubs in the bathing cubicle and selected wood from the cord to build fires in the heating chambers underneath. As they were doing so, Egil said, "Dolph, we are going to need a rather large sack-something big enough to hold our rope and swords and drum and my axe and the other items we need for the act we are to put on for the queen. Do you think you can find us one."

"A grain sack, sir, would do, ja?" Dolph spread his arms wide, some three to four feet.

"Have you something a bit larger?"

Dolph managed to shrug as he poured another bucket of water into one of the tubs. "Know do I not, sir. Try will I."

Egil struck a spark and blew on the smoldering tinder to coax it into flame. He placed the shavings in the heating chamber and added small strips of kindling. As he watched the fire grow, he asked, "Dolph, do you know Baron Steiger?"

"So I think, sir. The tall one he is, ja?"

"Yes, and he has black hair and dark blue eyes."

"Seen him, sir, I believe I have."

Now Egil began adding heavier kindling to the fire, and he moved some of the burning brands to the grille under the second bathtub and added wood there as well, saying, "Dolph, I'd like to speak with Baron Steiger. Will you find where he's quartered?"

"Ja, sir, easy that will be. The chambermaids I will ask."

"Well and good, Dolph. Well and good."

When Aiko and Arin finished bathing, Egil and Alos took their turns, the old man yet swearing that too many baths would sicken a horse, much less a human being: "I mean, Hel, boy, we could die of exposure."

By the time they were finished, Dolph had returned with an assortment of grain sacks, one burlap bag clearly large enough to hold the peacock, though the lad knew it not. Egil thanked him, and Arin smiled at the youth, and he blushed and rushed away with the surplus, stammering to Egil that he would locate Baron Steiger now.

They broke their fast in midmorn and then took to the grounds again to see what they might have overlooked. The skies had grown dark with a cloudy overcast. Arin held a hand in the air, feeling the drift of the onshore wind, then pronounced, "Ere this day is done, rain will come."

On they continued, committing the defenses of the citadel to memory. As they came into the eastern quadrant, someone hailed. It was Dolph, and they waited for him.

"Baron Steiger, sir, at the castle no longer he is." Dolph jerked his head toward the stables on the southeastern side of the grounds. "Yestermorn rode he away, tell me the livery boys do. Hard. Some mad errand he was on. A remount he took. And back he has not yet come."

"Hmm," mused Egil. "I wonder…" He glanced at Arin and Aiko and Alos, but all three turned up their hands and shrugged.

"Mayhap he will return ere we depart," said Arin.

Egil took a deep breath and slowly let it out, then said, "One can only hope." He turned to Dolph. "Thanks, lad. Have the stableboys let you know when the baron comes back, and keep an eye out for him yourself. Then come find me."

"Sir, ja," said Dolph, and he sped away toward the stables.

Under lowering skies they continued strolling the grounds. At one point, they stopped in the mews and Alos paused in conversation with the Jutlander who tended the raptors. In due time, the man bobbed his head and walked with Alos to a shed and stepped inside. After a moment the man emerged and handed Alos something. With a "Danke," Alos bowed to the man, who seemed surprised at the gesture but bowed in kind, and then Alos rejoined his companions. When they were away from the mews, 'Think these'll fit the peacock?" he asked, showing them a shabby falconry hood and tattered jesses.

They strode on 'round the grounds, pausing at the kennels as if to admire the queen's hunting dogs, but in truth they had stopped there to make certain that the raptor attendant was not following.

Then, casually, they strolled to the pond and found the peacock nearby, and laughed when the iridescent fowl turned a suspicious eye their way, as if it were expecting ill-mannered gibes to fall to the ground from their lips. But Arin cooed softly to it and the bird drew near enough for her to gauge that the raptor hood would fit rather well.

Aiko walked under a nearby tree, a tall maple, its leaves rustling in the growing breeze, and she studied the ground below. Spying what she had come to find, she moved somewhat to the side and then gazed upward. 'This tree is his nightly roost, for here are his droppings, and there above, some twenty feet up, is a suitable perch."

Egil glanced sidelong at the bird downslope and hissed, "Here we'll come skulking in the black of the night when the moon has set. One of us will climb in the dark and take the bird our prisoner, casting a hood over its head and tying it tight, then throwing the whole in a bag and lowering it to the others below."

Karawah, karawah, karawah!

"Fie, he has discovered our plot," Egil managed to gasp out between guffaws. "We are undone."

Laughing, the four conspirators continued uphill, where they took rest on one of the marble benches scattered here and there upon the grounds.

Aiko sighed, then said, "Dara, I still do not see how a peacock can aid us to discover the green stone."

Egil barked a laugh. "Perhaps he'll think it an egg and try to hatch it."

Arin smiled, then sobered. "Aiko, the ways of prophecies are mysterious. I, too, cannot see how a fowl can aid us. Yet I also do not see how any of us will fulfill the words of the rede. I merely know that we must go on… and trust to Adon that we will succeed."

In that moment, great drops of rain began spattering down, and the four made a run for the castle, Arin easily in the lead, Alos gasping and wheezing and bringing up the rear.

The guard at the door to the great hall stepped before Egil to bar the way. "Sorry, sir, but weapons into the presence of the queen you cannot bring."

Egil grinned and canted his head, then said, "Let me present Lady Arin the bard and Alos her drummer. And this is Lady Aiko the sword dancer, and I am Egil of Jord. We are entertainers and are to perform at the command of the queen, and these meager arms are but part of our costumes."

The warder opened his mouth to speak, but from behind came a commanding voice: "Let them pass. They are indeed mere entertainers."

They turned to see the lord chamberlain standing at hand. Egil flourished a bow, and the chamberlain nodded in return. The guard stepped back and clicked his heels together and stiffly canted his head, and the four moved into the great hall.

"Milords and ladies and honored guests: the Dylvana Arin of Darda Erynian, Lady Aiko of Ryodo, Master Alos of Thol, and Master Egil One-Eye of Jord."

Again they moved past the steward and stepped down onto the amphitheater floor. This night Arin was dressed in her pale green gown, with matching ribbons laced in her chestnut hair. Alos was outfitted in his tan jacket and breeks and brown jerkin, and his dark brown boots and belt; he carried his tambour under one arm and his cruik was slipped through his belt. Egil wore black: shirt, jacket, breeks, boots, belt, soft beret-all jet; only his eye patch and axe were of a different color-the scarlet and gold leather band and the steel blade and dark oak helve enhancing his sinister air. Aiko was dressed in her leather armor, the hammered bronze platelets on her jacket dull in the lantern light. At her waist were girted her two swords, the four shiruken hidden. She wore a pair of daggers, one strapped to each thigh. Her helm was under her arm, now adorned with the peacock feather. Colorful long ribands were tied 'round her upper arms and forearms and wrists, and 'round her waist and thighs and just below the knees; and as she walked, they trailed and swirled. She looked every inch a golden warrior-danger afoot- yet with the grace of a dancer, and many a head turned her way.

Once again the four of them circled the floor, looking for Baron Steiger, yet with little hope, for Dolph had not brought word that the baron had returned. And with the rain pouring outside, it was likely that Steiger, even if he were on his way back, had taken refuge in some inn. Indeed, they did not find him among the milling guests.

Finally the trumpet flourished and the steward knelled the floor and announced the imminent arrival of the queen, and the guests formed an aisle. Again the clarion sounded, and the steward's words rang out and the queen and her consort entered.

This night she wore a peach-colored gown, and her golden hair was long and straight and fanned about her bare shoulders. Her tiara was gold and plain.

Following her on his silver chain came Delon, dressed in shimmering blues and greens, his sheening blue jacket long and tailed, with puffed sleeves inset with glittering green panels matching his green satin shirt. His pantaloons were blue-and-green striped, and he wore blue hosiery on one leg and green hosiery on the other. His shoes were sequined blue and green, and his hat iridescent blue, with a shimmering blue plume on one side and a shimmering green plume on the other.

The queen and her gaudy escort mounted the dais, she to sit on the throne, he to sit to one side at her feet, and she smiled down at him as if he were a prize stud on display, he to wanly smile back.

The entertainers paraded about the floor, this time Arin, Alos, Aiko, and Egil joining them, Aiko growling under her breath, yet she managed a smile of sorts-her teeth gritted in false exhibition. Afterward they rejoined Baron Stolz's table in time to hear him say, "Helga, see. Told you did I common entertainers they are."

Again this night, food was served, and, as before, the queen declared the celebration to be in honor of new love. And the festivity began.

Three garishly painted buffoons entered, arguing silently as they strolled across the amphitheater floor. Of a sudden, it seemed as if they collided with an invisible wall and crashed backward to the floor, to the amusement of the guests. Hands outstretched they felt their way along the invisible barrier; moments later it became clear that they were trapped in a large invisible box, for the unseen wall went 'round in a square, and they were enclosed inside. Two boosted the third upward, to see if he could climb over the wall, but his head crashed into an invisible ceiling, and all three crashed to the floor, while the guests and queen hooted in laughter and she pounded the arms of her throne. Now the three buffoons panicked and ran crashing into the unseen walls, falling and rising and running and crashing only to do it over again, and the queen's shrieks of laughter were lost in the howling roars of all, while Delon merely smiled. Then a fourth buffoon entered the banquet hall and stepped across the floor to the invisible chamber and took a great key from his pocket and unlocked an unseen door. He motioned to the others, and they came out one by one, only to be whacked with loud cracks by a slapstick wielded by their rescuer as he chased them out from the great hall, while the guests roared their approval and applauded. The four buffoons returned to take a bow, only to be whacked on the behind by a fifth buffoon as they bowed low.

When the applause and laughter died, a man with his hands in his pockets nonchalantly strolled in, followed by five small dogs dressed in gaily colored ruffed collars and walking upright on their hind legs. They leapt through hoops and climbed small ladders and retrieved juggled balls when the man dropped them… and other such tricks as well.

The performance of the man and his dogs was followed by a prestidigitator, and then three people who performed feats of balance.

Then it was time for Arin to sing. Dressed in black, his tawny hair shining like burnished brass, Egil stepped to the center of the floor and waited for all to grow quiet. Finally he turned and bowed to the queen. "Queen Gudrun the Comely"-he turned once again to the crowd- "and milords and ladies and honored guests, I present the lovely Dara Arin, Dylvana of Blackwood, of Darda Erynian. Accompanied by Alos of Thol, she will touch your hearts with song. Beware, for you will never be the same."

With Alos at hand, Arin, looking small and slight in her green gown, made her way to the raised floor to the right and below the queen's dais. Stepping forward to the edge of the amphitheater, Arin waited as slowly the mutter of conversation died, then in a clear voice announced, " The Shorn Bride.' "

A stir went through the crowd, for this was a tale of love bereft, and who knows how the queen might react? Quiet swiftly returned as Alos, standing behind and to Arin's right, began gently tapping cruik to drum.

Now Arin's voice softly filled the chamber, climbing in volume as she sang of Raid and Isalda: he was a young knight and she a maiden, and their love for one another was so deep as to be nearly beyond understanding. Their wedding was celebrated by the entire realm, for they were dearly loved by all. Yet on that very same day, news came of the slaughter of Raid's brother Gran, who had journeyed away on knight errantry to a far land. Raid swore vengeance, and after but a single night of sweet love, he set out to avenge his kith. Pining in her tower, the new bride Isalda waited for a year and a day, yet no word came of her husband. And so she set forth and journeyed after, disguised as a lad and posing as nought but a common goatherd. A year and a day of fruitless searching passed, but then in the hold of a renegade warlord she discovered Raid, locked and starving in a dungeon deep and dying from his terrible wounds. Oh, how she wept over his emaciated, torn body and strove desperately to save him, yet he died whispering his love for her. The dungeon warder, overhearing, took pity on her and allowed Isalda to bear Raid's wasted body away. She took him to a field at the edge of the forest, where she built a great funeral pyre. The warlord, spying the large heap of wood at the edge of the field, rode out to discover what was afoot, and Isalda slew him with a dagger to the heart. She cast his body to the foot of Raid, and then mounted atop the pyre and set all aflame and lay down beside her love. It is said to this day that when entwined curls of smoke coil up from a fire, they are the spirits of Isalda and Raid embracing in everlasting love.

When Arin's song came to an end, there was not a dry eye in the hall: Queen Gudrun sat on her throne for all to see and wept and gazed at Delon, choking back her sobs; and even though Delon was a bard who knew the song well, tears ran down his face; throughout the chamber there were sniffles and sobs and unrestrained weeping; even sour Baron Stolz broke down and cried. Behind Arin, Alos wept.

Arin turned to Alos and said, " 'The Ransomed Kiss.' " Alos nodded and wiped his dripping nose on his sleeve, and then with a flourish he hammered a rat-a-tat-tat on the tambour. And as he rapped out a wild tattoo, Arin soared into an absurd ditty of a maid whose cow was stolen by the lad next door who held it as ransom for a kiss. The maiden refused at first, yet she needed the milk to feed her pigs, and so at last she agreed, but under her own terms: she would kiss him in the night in the dark in her shut barn through a hole in a hanging blanket, for she was shy and didn't want anyone to know, but only if he brought the cow with him and only if he would put milk on his lips so she could be sure it was her cow and not some other. Too, he had to swear he'd not do this again. The lad agreed for he dearly wanted that kiss. And so in the night he led her cow into her barn and shut the door after. In the pitch blackness she called to him, and fumbling about he discovered the hanging blanket and then the hole therein. He turned and with one squirt from the cow's teat, he got a handful of milk and smeared it on his lips. And in the dark in her shut barn through a hole in a hanging blanket, he received his kiss, a sloppy one with the milk and all, and not what he imagined it would be. But he left the cow behind and went back home, swearing that he'd not ever do such again, and things returned to normal. The lad always wondered thereafter, however, why it was that one of her pigs seemed always to gaze at him fondly.

Ta-tump!

Laughter rang out in the hall, and Arin and Alos bowed to the giggling queen and her smiling consort, and then to the crowd entire, and in spite of the calls for more they made their way back to Baron Stolz's table, who, beaming, leapt to his feet and bowed. "A drink, Lady Arin, this calls for," declared the baron, and he handed her a goblet filled with wine and steered her to his end of the table. Lady Klatsch turned and offered Alos a goblet as well. He glanced about, his eyes seeking Aiko, but she and Egil had moved to the edge of the amphitheater in preparation for Aiko's display, and Arin was distracted by the baron, and so Alos eagerly reached out and took the chalice from the dowager and gulped down the contents in one long draught. He stood for a moment with his eyes closed as the wine warmed his very blood. Then, smiling, he reached for the pitcher to refill his emptied cup.

At last the applause died, and Egil once again stood in the center of the amphitheater floor. Dressed in black and looking every bit the sinister figure, he held his deadly axe in his hands and slowly raised it above his head and the hall grew quiet. "Dear Queen Gudrun"- again he turned to the crowd-"and milords and ladies and honored guests"-he flourished his lethal weapon in a whirl and some ladies in the hall gasped-"I may seem Death's champion"-he grounded the steel head of his axe to the floor and leaned upon the oaken helve-"yet I am as nothing when compared to the exotic golden warrior of distant Ryodo, mysterious realm to the faraway east. I give you Lady Aiko"-Egil paused, one hand clutching his neck-"but I warn you: watch for your heads."

As Egil stepped from the amphitheater to stand below and to the right of the throne, Aiko moved to center floor. She bore her plumed helm under one arm, and her swords were sheathed in scabbards harnessed across her back. Upon reaching the midpoint, she paused, and then bowed deeply to the queen, followed by a bow to the guests left and right. She donned her strange helm, with the skirts of the cap flaring out to step down nearly to her shoulders and 'round the sides and behind. A nose guard projected down the front to join with the cheek guards. The peacock plume atop the cap arched over and back to lie at a shallow angle. If the guests had not seen her beforehand, they could not have said whether this warrior was male or female.

Aiko stood for long moments with her eyes closed and her arms extended out to her sides, her bright green and red and blue and orange and violet and yellow ribands hanging down and still. Then she whirled and spun, her ribands streaming, and suddenly her swords were in her hands, the steel flashing in the lantern light. And she danced, or drilled, depending on how one looked at it, twisting, turning, weaving, advancing, retreating, leaping and landing, forward, backward, side to side, the swords gyring and spiraling, her hands reversing their grips so that the blades lay along the length of her forearms, only to reverse again. She thrust ahead and thrust behind, and turned and kicked and thrust, and whirling she slashed the air, so swiftly the blades hummed. She ran up the floor and down the floor and 'cross the floor side to side, all the while hacking and slashing, spinning and cutting, her streaming ribands like streaks of rainbows trailing after, and the crowd oohed and ahhed. And she whirled and gyred, spinning faster and faster as she came up the floor toward the dais, a blur of leather and bronze and steel and color, until she was before the steps, and of a sudden she stopped, facing the throne, her swords now sheathed- just how or when she had done so, none could say. And slowly, carefully, she removed her helm and bowed low to the queen.

The hall erupted in roars of acclaim and thunderous applause, and the queen herself pounded her trencher table, setting crockery and knives and spoons aclatter. And Delon in shimmering blue and green stood and applauded, and he swept his iridescent plumed hat from his head and bowed low. Seeing Delon's display, a flash of rage crossed Gudrun's face, only to be replaced by a smile that went no further than her mouth. She held up her hands for quiet, and when it fell, "Most impressive," she said, "but I wonder if it is as deadly as it seems."

Gudrun turned to her left and called out, "Stahl."

A tall man in black leathers with a saber girted at his waist stood at a nearby table and bowed. "Milady?"

"Stahl, you are my champion. Can you best this yellow warrior?"

The crowd drew in its collective breath and, from his place to the right of the throne, Egil started forward, only to be stopped by a glare and a raised hand from Aiko.

Stahl smiled and stepped to the amphitheater floor. He was lithe and lean, perhaps thirty, and he towered over Aiko by a head or more. "My queen, the true test of the sword is in battle and blood… not in a dance."

Gudrun turned to Aiko. "What say you, sword dancer, will you test your skills against my champion?"

Aiko glanced up at Stahl, now at hand, and said, "I do not fight merely for show."

Stahl snorted in derision, but the queen raised an eyebrow. "Ah, then, golden warrior, you fight for principle or prize?"

Aiko stared flatly at Gudrun. "Either or both."

"Then what will you have?"

Ignoring Egil's silent gesture of negation, Aiko asked, "What do you offer?"

The queen gestured magnanimously. "If you win, take what you will."

Dissembling, Aiko looked about, her gaze passing over golden goblets and jewelry and other riches. "Would you give me a ring?"

Gudrun raised her hands so that her jeweled rings faced Aiko. "Any we wear."

Still disguising her true goal, Aiko then turned and gestured at a serving girl. "Would you give me a thrall?"

Gudrun smiled. "Any of our slaves."

Now Aiko drew nigh to that which she truly wanted and held out a hand toward the left-hand wall. "Would you give me an animal from your gardens, or perhaps a bird?"

Stahl growled, "She delays, my queen."

Agitated, Gudrun snapped, "If you win-ha!-we will give you all four: a ring, a thrall, an animal, and a bird. Do you accept?"

Aiko smiled slowly. "Oh, I will take but one and not all, if I but have your word that you will freely give me what I choose."

"You go too far, yellow woman, when you question our word. Yet we, Gudrun the Comely, Queen of the Jutes, do so swear."

Stahl turned to Aiko. "You have bargained for your reward should you win, yet it is a bargain made in vain, for I will be the victor. Regardless, there are two sides to any bargain, and so I ask: what will you give when you lose?"

Aiko looked up at him. "What would you have?"

Stahl turned to the queen. Gudrun shrugged noncommittally and said, "Ask what you will, my champion."

Stahl leered down at Aiko. "I ask that you spend the night pleasuring the royal guard."

The hall burst into laughter and there was a smattering of applause. But above it all there came a cry from Arin: "No, Aiko, pledge not."

Alos, goblet in his right hand, pitcher in his left, lurched to the edge of the amphitheater and called out in his native tongue: "Nei! Nei lofte!"

Egil, too, protested, shouting "No," but once again Aiko quelled him with a staying hand.

She turned to Stahl. "I do so swear."

Stahl grinned wolfishly and then turned to his table and called out, "Braun, my main gauche and helm!"

As a rotund man rushed out from the chamber, Aiko began removing her bright ribands. Egil stepped to Aiko's side and stood taking the ribands from her. As he reached out for the bright green one, he whispered, "Aiko, you don't have to do this. There are other ways to get what we came for."

Aiko looked at him and murmured back, "But this way we have it given to us freely."

"If you win, Aiko. Only if you win."

She glared at him, then her gaze softened. "Fear not, my friend, for I will not lose."

Finally the last of her ribands was loose, and Aiko took up her helm and removed the peacock feather and handed it to Egil, who slipped it through a band in his hat. She donned the helmet and drew her blades and stood and waited, her leathers dark, the small bronze plates sewn on her jacket dull in the lanternlight, her steel helm casting no glints, her swords now in hand. She looked every inch a grim warrior, and Stahl was taken somewhat aback, yet he was taller, heavier, and would outreach her by a foot or more.

The rotund man came scurrying back into the hall. He bore a main gauche and an open-faced helmet with chain-link hanging down 'round the back from side to side. Stahl donned his steel cap and handed Braun his belt with its scabbarded sword, then he drew the blades, the main gauche in his left hand, the saber in his right. Bearing the scabbards and belt, Braun scurried away.

Aiko faced him, her eyes shaded by her helm. "To first blood?" she asked.

Stahl nodded. "To first blood."

Together they walked to the very center of the amphitheater floor, Aiko seeming tiny beside his towering form. When they reached midfloor, Aiko called out to the assembly entire: "This will be no courtly mock battle with elaborate flourishes for show-but to first blood instead."

And Stahl called out: "But should someone suffer a fatal wound, well, can I help it if my skill is so great?" He bowed 'round to all as they cheered and called his name.

Alos, sitting on the edge of the amphitheater shouted out: "Focka du!" Then he raised his pitcher to his lips and guzzled from it.

Now Aiko and Stahl turned to face the queen and bowed.

"Let it begin," she cried.

The duelists faced one another and saluted with swords-Stahl's gaze arrogant, Aiko's impassive-then dropped into crouches, circling warily. Of a sudden in a whirl of steel, Aiko sprang forward, her blades but a blur-

– cling-clang, shing-shang, ding-clang, shang-zs-

– and after but eight quick strokes she disengaged and stepped back.

Frowning, Stahl looked at her-"First blood," she said-and then he felt the warm trickle running down his right cheek.

Unbelieving, he struck his right hand to his face and wiped. His fingers came away wetly scarlet. An incredulous gasp went up from the crowd, and Stahl, stunned, turned to his queen. "Milady, hers could not be but an accidental touch. I demand true satisfaction. Let not the whim of Fortune settle this match."

Aiko looked impassively at Gudrun. "Fortune goes to those who are most prepared."

The queen glared at Aiko and showed her teeth in a rictus grin. "To second blood," she hissed.

"Madam, I protest," called Egil.

But Aiko held up a hand to silence him and then turned to Stahl. "To second blood, Stahl. But be warned, if it's to third blood we must go, then it will be to the death."

Stahl clicked his heels together and bowed his head sharply in acceptance.

Once again they saluted with their steel, the look in the queen's champion's eyes now uncertain, wary, the look in Aiko's impassive. As before Stahl dropped into a crouch, but Aiko stood erect and waited, turning to face him as he circled. Then in a blur, steel skirling on steel, she attacked-

– shang-clang, shing-shang, chang-shang, clang-zs-

– and once again she disengaged and stepped back, calling out: "Second blood!"

The crowd groaned, for a trickle of blood now streamed down Stahl's left cheek.

Unbelieving, Stahl looked at the golden warrior and her blades, and opened his mouth to speak. But Egil had crossed the floor to come to Aiko's side, and he escorted her to stand before the queen. "Milady," he said, bowing, "Lady Aiko has proven her skill, not only by drawing first blood, but by drawing second blood as well. She bargained fairly for reward should she win, which as you can see she has done. Hence, let her choose her prize, then let us resume your celebration of love."

Queen Gudrun glared at her disgraced champion, then through gritted teeth hissed at Aiko. "Of the four that I offered, choose."

"Denflugl, denflugl!" cried Alos, waving his pitcher aloft, then whispering to one and all, "We want the rutting bird." And he gulped down another great swallow, red wine running across his cheeks to dribble onto the lapels of his tan jacket.

Aiko wiped the tips of her blades clean on one of the ribands Egil yet held, then sheathed her swords in the scabbards at her back. Then, with her hands on her hips and her feet apart in a balanced stance, she faced the queen.

Now Gudrun leaned forward on her throne and snapped, "Well, what will it be, yellow woman: ring, thrall, beast, or fowl?"

Silence fell as all waited to hear Aiko's choice, and somewhere in the distance above the susurration of rain a bugle sounded.

Aiko looked up at the angry queen and her gaudy escort, then she glanced at Egil with the iridescent peacock feather in his cap. Suddenly her eyes widened in revelation and she turned to the queen and smiled and pointed. "I'll have him."

She had singled out Delon the Bard.