The Duke's Ballad

VI

Shastro had decided not to have anything done to Aisling. Her cousin and that brother of Kirion’s who always seemed to be near them had betrayed no knowledge of events. At first he stayed away from her completely, but after a seven-day he drifted back. He liked her. She was amusing and listened to him honestly, he could tell. Not, as many of his courtiers did, fawningly and with incomprehension.

No, little Murna understood the thoughts of her duke and she wasn’t averse to pointing out where he was wrong, which was a novelty. She had done so just that evening, speaking of the poor people and how they looked to their leader, about how a good leader could guide rather than drive. Shastro had found it unexpectedly touching. It would be pleasant if his people looked upon him in that way, he said wistfully before everyone retired.

Afterward, in their suite, Hadrann looked at Aisling. “Be careful cousin. He’s weak and he sees enemies in every shadow. That’s how your brother controls him. If Shastro starts to lean toward hearing you, Kirion is going to start a rumor, probably that you’re an Estcarp spy.”

Keelan, who’d joined them by the small rear door, nodded. “And the first thing he’d do is to begin inquiries around Aranskeep. After that if he can’t find any gossip he’ll make some. Shastro is ner-vous enough to look under his bed and in his closets for assassins every night.”

“You mean he really does!” Aisling looked astounded.

“That’s the gossip in the servants’ quarters. Our guard captain picked it up. I don’t know if it is true, but I know that the servants believe it. Harran says they’re scared of the duke and Kirion scares them into total terror, but, as I said, Shastro is a little crazy. He sees Estcarp witches behind it every time he trips over the mat. Kirion wouldn’t have too much trouble convincing the duke that you’re a witch, and since you are, if Kirion starts applying tests, too much is going to show up.”

“Shastro likes me,” Aisling objected. “He wouldn’t want to hurt me. He didn’t even do anything about that other stuff. Just didn’t talk to us for a while.”

Hadrann drank off the wine he had poured and sat down looking at her earnestly. “Aisling, you don’t understand a man like Shastro. I’ve been at court on and off for several years. The fact that he likes you makes it more likely he’d move against you, not less.” He waved a hand at her when she would have interrupted. “Keep it shut a moment cousin and listen.”

“Shastro is weak, easily led, and Kirion has worked him up into a permanent belief that Estcarp has spies and assassins everywhere. I heard some nasty things about the duke’s childhood. He fears to care about anyone. He believes that if he likes someone, then she or he has to be an enemy or will abandon him in some way. Kirion has built on that fear until he’s the only person Shastro believes and trusts.

“That’s because your brother has ‘proved’ to the duke time and time again that he is surrounded by enemies.” He looked at her, and his voice softened. “I know that Shastro can be likable. What you have to keep in mind is that he is ruined now. Even if you married him he’d never be trustworthy. Kirion’s taught him to enjoy certain things too much. He might listen to you for a while, but he’d go back to his old ways and then hate you if you tried to stop him.”

Hadrann sighed quietly. “You do know that Shastro was a compromise? The lords of the city clans accepted him as duke since the last two had died with no heirs and they had to have a ruler. It was that or tear themselves apart fighting to as which of them would rule. Shastro comes from a previous line, one that lost everything they had several generations ago.

“He grew up in the low quarter, where they deal with those they hate quite simply. You would die. Oh, probably not an obvious murder, or if it was he’d have a scapegoat waiting, but you’d die. And then, just in case, he’d do his best to quietly wipe out everyone in Aiskeep so they wouldn’t ask questions.” Aisling had sagged back on her seat, her face sad. Hadrann took her hand.

“He isn’t just weak, cousin. He’s bad all through. He likes to play that he might change but he won’t, and I don’t believe he can or honestly wants to. You know your brother better than I do. Ask Kee-lan. Is Kirion likely to have chosen a figurehead who’d turn in his tracks to follow the Light? Is he?”

“No,” Aisling said dully. “No. Kirion wouldn’t make that mistake.”

Keelan sat beside her and hugged her warmly. “So you be careful. No more encouraging Shastro to be a good decent ruler. He won’t be, and it may alert Kirion too early.” He gave her another hug, then stood to pour watered wine for himself. He returned to lean against the wall nearby. “But while we’re on the subject of Kars’s duke, has anyone noticed a possible ducal replacement?”

Hadrann nodded. “I did, but you can’t look him over. I hear he hardly ever comes to court and when he does he’s gone again as soon as is respectable. He’s some sort of kin of yours, a man named Jam.

His father died young in a hunting accident, and the boy inherited about thirty years gone, a big estate but almost worthless. Several square miles of poor mountain land and a half-ruined keep.”

Aisling was thinking, her eyes half-shut as she concentrated. She sat up abruptly. “Yes. Jam of Trevalyn.” She looked across to where Keelan stood. “He’s grandnephew to old Geavon. I think that makes him about our fifth cousin. Jam’s father settled land that had been abandoned after the last upheaval of the Turning. There’d been a keep, and since it was on the fringes of the mountains and massively built, it partly survived, but one wing collapsed, and the original family wasn’t as lucky. They were inside at the time. Jam’s father improved the place, cleared that wing, got back some of the people, and brought in mountain sheep.”

She grinned. “I remember Grandfather talking about it years ago. He said a lord could make a reasonable living there if he didn’t mind living within a stone’s throw of Estcarp in a great barn with a leaking roof, eating mutton stew and sleeping on beds harder than a merchant’s charity. It was a carefree life: you had nothing to worry about but bandits, Estcarp, starvation in winter, lumbago from the damp, constant colds in the nose, and having your throat cut by disaffected peasants.” Hadrann laughed. “Had he visited this keep?”

Keelan spoke dryly. “It certainly sounds as if he had. I’d think almost any other place would be a welcome change, but if this Jam can keep an estate like that in order and survive it, then he should be able to handle Kars.”

Aisling smiled too, then sobered. “I wouldn’t leap to that conclusion, either of you. A man can love his home and not want to desert it no matter how awful it seems to outsiders; besides, we’re talking casually of making him duke. Before we can even think of that we need to bell the cats. Kirion and Shastro aren’t going to bow politely and usher Jam onto the throne.”

“No,” her brother said slowly. “What we need to do is goad the duke into doing something really stupid that turns the people against him. They would be too scared to move yet, but if we get Kirion out of the way, then they’d act.”

“Kee, we’re going to get a lot of people hurt before all this is over, aren’t we?”

“Yes. I don’t like the thought any more than you, but the alternative is another war with Estcarp. If that happens Kars could be sacked and many of the keeps as well. Far more would die if that happened.”

They retired to bed, each bothered by what lay ahead. Yet, as Keelan had said, if Shastro continued on the path down which Kirion was leading him, war was inevitable. The last major attack had cost Karsten an army of thousands. What could it cost this time? Turmoil in Kars, she thought ruefully, would certainly cost fewer lives than another war.

In the morning Hadrann went hunting alone. He took a small bow for waterfowl and followed the track to a small, reed-fringed lake some three hours ride from Kars. Aisling was to spend the day in her room. She planned to open her mind carefully and see if she could pick up from Kirion any sense of his plans. Wind Dancer would stay with her as company. Keelan had his own plans. Before Hadrann left, Kee spoke of them to him and Aisling.

“I’m going into the city. Is there anything either of you would like?” Aisling shook her head. Hadrann glanced up, considering the court finery his friend was wearing.

“I wouldn’t go without a guard if I were you. That’s an expensive neck chain.”

The Aiskeep heir shrugged. “I’ll take a guard, but I don’t plan to go to the lower city, just the market. I need a new bridle.”

“Well and good. Do be careful.” They separated, Aisling scooping up Wind Dancer as she retired.

It was late afternoon before Hadrann returned from his success-ful hunting. Over one shoulder he carried a double brace of duck. He wore a satisfied expression and several pounds of lakeside mud.

Aisling held her nose when he tapped on her door, proudly displaying the results of his hunting.

“Phew! The ducks will be lovely, but I hope you’re taking a bath before you sit down to dine with us.”

Hadrann grinned happily. “I’ve already told my valet to start someone heating the water. I got another brace of duck, but they’ve gone to the duke.” He glanced around. “Where’s Kee?”

“Probably down at the stables.”

“No.” Her head came up at his tone. “I’ve just come from there. He left this morning, and the captain hasn’t seen him since. He didn’t take a guard either. You mean he hasn’t been back here at all, not all day?”

Aisling’s eyes widened. “No. I haven’t seen him since he left either. I hope he’s not in trouble. Wait, maybe I can scry for him.”

His hand caught her wrist. “It’s too dangerous. Just listening the way you were doing today is safe enough, but you go using magic to look and you’re likely to alert Kirion. Let’s go and talk to the captain.”

But their guard captain was no comfort. “I’d say this was time to search, my Lord. It’s still light enough to rake through these places without torches. We’ll miss less if there’s anything to find.”

Aisling returned to her room determined to scry for Keelan. Hadrann followed.

“You can’t risk it.”

“I don’t care, I have to find him.”

He shook his head. “It isn’t you. If you scry, you could alert Kirion. If he starts looking at us we’re all in danger.” He took a deep breath. “I have something to suggest that may work more effectively and be safer for all of us as well.” As he talked, she listened. Then he watched as she left, half-running. Now, if only she could put Had-rann’s plan into action without error, Keelan might be found.

She forced tears to her eyes as she rounded the corridor bend to find Shastro talking with a courtier. She waited, her eyes, brimming with tears, fixed on him. He glanced at her, smiled, and went to turn back to his conversation. Then his mind registered her distress. He swung back.

“Murna, my dear child. What has happened? Has someone been unkind? Only tell me and I shall have them punished.”

Aisling looked up at him. “My Lord Duke, anarchy. A threat to your court.” She watched as he stiffened. His gaze darted about them, and a small tic began at one side of his mouth.

“Anarchy? A threat? Speak, Murna, what is this?”

“My Lord, Keelan, the friend of my cousin is missing. He but went to the market to purchase a new bridle. That was many hours ago, and he is not to be found.” She saw him relax, about to object that the disappearance of one minor member at court was hardly a threat. She bowed her head.

“My Lord, I fear for you.”

“For me?” He tensed again.

“Isn’t Keelan the brother of your lord sorcerer?” Aisling asked innocently. “If there should be a plot against him, perhaps a plan to use his brother as a lever. But worse still, what if they but seek to persuade him against you?” She saw the shot go home. Shastro went a greenish-white in terror. Sweat suddenly stood out on his forehead.

Absently he patted her arm. “Dear child. So sensible, so loyal to Kars and its duke. Yes, if it should be a plot against me. I must see Kirion at once.” He looked down at her. “Go back to your cousin. Tell him I swear I shall do all possible to find his friend. If he has men searching he is to call them back. Better not to hamper what my own men can do. Go, quickly!” She went, running lightly back to the Aranskeep suite, where Hadrann waited anxiously.

“Did it work?”

Aisling was worried. “It worked. Right now he’s on the way to demand Kirion find Kee at once. But, Hadrann, I fear Shastro is going to believe this an Estcarp plot again. I think he was starting to wonder as soon as I spoke.”

“You can’t worry about that. No, I think Kirion may claim this plot is homegrown. It would give him the chance to obtain a few more people for his experiments. He won’t get those from Estcarp. It wasn’t Shastro we were after anyhow. It was Kirion. He loathes Kee, but he’d hate to see anyone else hurting him; he prefers to do that himself. In a way Kee is his, and gods help the one who steals what belongs to Kirion.”

Aisling sat as her knees began to feel weak. Wind Dancer jumped up and rose to pat her cheek gently with one large paw. She held him to her, the warm furry body and the rumbling purr a comfort. Hadrann poured wine, then looked at the cup, dumped it back in the decanter and poured them both fruit juice. He handed one mug to Aisling.

“Damn court habits. I always drink far more when I’m here. Tonight we want our wits about us if we ever did.”

Outside they could hear an increasing hubbub. Aisling leaned out of the window to see. Below in the courtyard mounted soldiers milled. Shastro was nowhere in sight, but Kirion, haughty on a sleek black horse, was giving sharp orders. Aisling shrank back. Better that he did not look up and see her spying, as he’d think of it if he saw her.

She smiled wryly. Ten to one Kirion had no idea that she’d been behind Shastro’s demand that his sorcerer find Keelan. The duke would never have admitted that the idea of a plot had been thought up by another. No, he’d have rushed to Kirion to alternately storm and complain, then to whine in fear. After that all the decisions would have been her brother’s.

They waited through two hours that seemed to stretch to twenty. Then below there was a lesser commotion, and Aisling flew to the window. A filthy, battered figure was being helped from a trooper’s horse. She bit back her scream of greeting. She must not betray them. Must not let any see how much she loved a man none knew to be more than a friend of her cousin’s. But it was Kee, her brother, safe, and if not sound at least not too visibly damaged.

She flew to the door, snapping orders at their waiting guard. “Have someone bring hot water and our bath from the storeroom at once. Find a healer and tell him to attend the Aranskeep suite in half a candlemark. Send one of your men down to the stables to help the Lord Keelan back here. Lay out clean linen and outer clothing.”

“At once, Lady.” He was rapping out orders in turn as she shut the door again. Then she sagged into a chair to wait. Hadrann smiled at her. “If he could ride back he can’t be too badly hurt.”

“He’s Aiskeep and proud.”

“So?” The single word was provocative.

“So he’d stay on a horse if he were dying and be too proud to say so.” Aisling snarled. She would have continued but for raising her eyes to see his grin. “Oh, I see. Start a fight and take my mind off worrying. But I am… is that them?” She would have flung the door open but for his grip.

“I’m the one who is so worried over my friend,” she was warned in a low voice. “You are merely mildly concerned over my friend.” Hadrann thrust her behind him and opened the door with cries of distress.

“My dear boy! What has befallen you? Are you injured? But you are so very dirty, one would think you had been rolling in the streets.”

Keelan eyed him bitterly. “I have. No, I’m not much hurt, but I’d kill for a hot bath.”

As he spoke a procession of palace maids bearing steaming copper cans approached. Behind them marched two men carrying a large bathtub stamped with the Aranskeep seal. Keelan gaped.

“Has someone added clairvoyance to his abilities?”

Hadrann glared at him. “Shut up with that!” he hissed. Louder he said, “No, dear boy. Merely common sense. I did… ah… see you from my window. You appeared greatly in need of quantities of hot water and soap.”

“I am.” Keelan assured him. “Very much so.” He waved the bath procession through the door before him. “Get on with that and hurry.” He took the hot drink handed to him by Aisling, allowing his gaze to meet hers briefly. Anxiety met reassurance, and he saw her relax slightly.

The bath was rapidly filled, and one by one the maids departed with watercans emptied. Aisling had laid out towels and soap meanwhile.

She vanished discreetly for five minutes as Hadrann helped his friend off with the filthy torn clothing. Alone she also opened her mind and listened for other minds. Ah. One came, slipping silently between the walls. Once her brother was safely ensconced in hot soapy water she returned. Her hands moved now and again in fluttering motions. They would look no more than the usual movements of a nervous woman were they overlooked, but Keelan could read hunter signals. He’d learned from her, and Hadrann had learned from both.

“All right. Now for the love of Karsten tell us what happened to you. My cousin was worried sick.” Keelan ducked his head under the water, scrubbed vigorously at his hair, then surfaced to meet her glare. He grinned wearily.

“I made a mistake. All right? I should have taken one of Had-rann’s guards with me. His captain even asked, but I was only going to the market. I intended to buy a new bridle, then come straight back.” He lowered his voice to a slurred murmur. No one farther than a few feet from him would have been able to make out the words.

“I haven’t been in the lower city for months. I had no idea how bad it’s gotten. They’re close to rebellion and they hate anyone from court. When the time comes we may be able to use that.” His voice became louder again. “… and I bought a real beauty of a bridle too.”

“What happened to it? You certainly didn’t have it with you when you returned,” Aisling digressed. Let them bore the listener. Keelan obliged with a long monologue on the best types of horse gear, the best place in Kars to buy it, and then a string of curses upon the heads of those who’d stolen it along with almost everything else he’d had at the time. Aisling allowed him to return to the subject of his attackers.

“So you wandered off into the lower city.” She fluttered eyelashes. “How very foolish.”

Keelan looked wry. “Quite so. But it was a pleasant day, I had my bridle, and I wasn’t thinking.”

“Obviously!” Hadrann snapped. “Will you stop discussing that witch-damned bridle and tell us what happened to you?”

Keelan’s tale was interesting if only because it illustrated what he’d said about the lower city. He’d wandered along the streets, purchased food from a street vender, and when he failed to pay attention to his direction, managed to get himself turned around in the maze of alleys. He’d gone the way he thought to be right only to find it wasn’t, not by some distance. Then he’d heard footsteps following. He’d dived around a couple of corners, which seemed to have been the intent. Now and again he glanced casually at Aisling, reading the words her hands wove. He nodded, following her lead as he continued.

He groaned. “I was an idiot, I admit it. They let me hear them following to make me hurry in the direction they wanted. When I came around a corner, someone dropped a roof on my head. I woke up in a cellar. I’d been stripped down to my underclothes, my head was killing me, and that place was filthy!

“That’s how I got this way.” A wave of his hand indicated the befouled clothing he’d dumped at one end of the room. “I’d been tied and I could hear them talking up the stairs. They were going to murder me, take my body out after dark, and dump it in the river. The tide would just be starting out, and I’d go with it.”

Hadrann looked startled. “Whoever they were, someone wasn’t a fool. They kept you alive just in case a major search was mounted. They could dump you out somewhere and stop the poking into everything any searchers would be doing.”

“True. One of them checked me, and I played dead. He believed I was still unconscious. As soon as he was gone I wriggled all over that damned cellar, found a chip of stone and frayed the rope to where I could break it. After that I waited. They went off somewhere to check if I’d been missed and left the door at the top of the cellar stairs unlocked. I didn’t waste time, I can tell you. I got out of there and made a run for it. Bumped into the duke’s guards almost at once.”

Aisling clasped her hands. “Thanks be that our duke cares for his people. And they brought you back. Did they find your prison or any of the wicked men who had attacked you?”

Keelan nodded, then yelped and held his head. “Ow. I must remember not to do that for a while. Yes, they found the cellar. No trace of the men though, but the duke will search. What an insult to him that a member of his court should be kidnapped in the duke’s own city. And do you know, I really couldn’t swear to it, but I thought one of those I heard had the merest trace of a mountain accent.”

His voice became self-righteous. “I didn’t mention it. After all, I’m not certain. It could have been one of those mush mouths from the very far South. But he didn’t speak in quite the way of the city. Of that I am sure.” He ducked down and continued to scrub. Aisling was listening. After a minute she grinned.

“He’s gone. It’s a nuisance that passage is there, but they can only listen to what’s said in this room.” She stared at her brother, ran her fingers through his hair to feel the lump. “Hold on and I’ll do something for that. I can’t fix it completely in case Shastro has the court healer check, but I can take most of the pain.” She did so, and Keelan sighed in relief.

“Thanks be. That headache was killing me.”

“Right. Now that you can think clearly, how much of that tale is the whole truth?” Hadrann queried.

“Most of it. I omitted that I think the whole house was a nest of spies. The leader was furious with whoever hauled me in. I gather I was a mistake on the part of some overzealous idiot who thought I was snooping. And,” he paused teasingly, “they weren’t Estcarp either. I recognized a voice. Remember Duke Pagar?”

“We’re hardly likely to forget him.” Aisling’s tone was dry. “He got the whole Karsten army killed and our great-grandfather. Why? You aren’t saying that it was Pagar’s ghost returned?”

“No, I’m saying that Pagar married into a powerful clan who lost most of what they had when Pagar failed and would like to have it back. They weren’t at all happy when the other lords chose to skip two previous ducal lines and accept Shastro as duke. That was the voice I heard: Lord Sarnor or one of his sons. They all sound alike.”

Hadrann whistled softly. “Now that could send the hunter out. We must see Shastro gets the message. Set him against Sarnor’s clan, and they’ll keep each other occupied while we follow our own road.” He lounged back against the wall. “This could be very very useful!”