The Still

Chapter 25

In the morn, Tresa knocked while rust and I were still abed. I hastily threw on a robe.

She asked, “Did you bleed in the night?”

“No.”

“What troubles me,” Rust said, “is who could have known the candles might gutter, and be prepared.”

“Oh, anyone. It’s a failing of Grandfather’s, and well known.” I waited, and she colored slightly. “I call it that, though he makes light of his Power. His, ah, moods are unpredictable.”

My tone was cross. “Why are your words so opaque? Speak plainly!”

“I-well, all right. Grandfather is a passionate man. When his passions are … inflamed, the Power is likely to be present.”

I tasted the words. “‘Passions inflamed’? I don’t-Oh!” I felt myself blush furiously. “Lord of Nature!” With difficulty I met her eye. “You mean, he was … but for whom?”

She made no reply.

“He was staring at me, while speaking of my father.”

“Yes.”

Desperate to change the subject, I tried to stand too fast, and gasped as something pulled at my side.

“Move slowly! Here, let me adjust the bindings.”

“Rust will do it.”

“But I’m versed-”

I snapped, “It’s not for you to help. You’re only a woman.”

Rust said swiftly, “I’ll apologize on his behalf, since he hasn’t the wit to know he’s offensive.”

“Rust!”

“You, be quiet. Accept my regrets, my lady.” He bowed. “Prince Rodrigo is valiant and at times even kind, but he was raised in a stable, free of manners.”

It brought a smile to her lips, though mine were set in a snarl. “Don’t make him angry,” she said. “His chest will throb. I take no offense, Rodrigo.”

“None was meant.” My words came grudgingly.

“May I see you this afternoon?” She stood.

“If you wish.” I was carefully indifferent.

“Perhaps, then.” A quick curtsy, and she was gone.

Rust dropped onto the bed, took my mouth in his hand, squeezed until I gawped like a fish and could say naught. His voice low but steady, he said many things, that after a time made me squirm in discomfort. Only when my eyes began to glisten did his tirade wind to a halt. He patted my cheek absently, went downstairs while I sorted myself out. In the hall, Fostrow said nothing. I hoped he hadn’t heard.

At noon Rustin appeared, with the Earl and two servants.

“May we come in?” Uncle Raeth swept past, without waiting for an answer. “How do you feel, Rodrigo?”

“Sore. But we must leave, lest they make another attempt on my life.”

“Sadly, I must agree. Oh, we can guard you, but for politics’ sake I must have you gone. In the meanwhile …” His face brightened. “I brought a meal for the two of you.” He gestured to the footmen. “And my own, if I might join you.”

I had little choice. “As you wish, Uncle.”

“Mushroom soup to start, trout almandine, and greens. Wine and bread, of course, and a few pastries for dessert. I thought it best you dine lightly. You’ll forgive the omission of a few courses?”

In moments Uncle Raeth’s portable meal was set up and ready. He and Rust gathered round the bed, and we set to.

For a while, as we ate, the Earl made small talk. At length, his eyes fixed on mine. “So, youngsire, what would you do, as King?”

A jest formed on my lips, died stillborn. “First, restore the realm. It’s outrageous that Tantroth holds Stryx unchecked, even for a day.”

“How would you dislodge him?”

“I’d raise a force.”

“Paying them how?”

“Were Uncle Mar loyal, from the treasury.”

“And if it’s barred to you?”

“Taxes.”

Uncle frowned. “And after you’ve driven out the invader?”

“I haven’t thought that far.” He raised an eyebrow, and even Rust rolled his eyes. “Well, would you have me lie? Mother died suddenly, and since then I’ve had to flee Stryx, find Hester, ride to a forsaken patch of weeds, fight fires, and argue myself into your castle. When was I to plan my realm?” My cheeks had color, from the force of my assertion.

“See, Rustin, how he protests. Well, young Prince, I’ll give you time. Think, and tell me what you’d do, crowned and safe in Stryx.”

I sought some grandiose plan that would please him, but could find none. “I don’t know, my lord. Once, I thought the crown meant freedom to do as I wanted. Now I see it isn’t so. And besides …” I bit it off, but was forced by his silence to continue. “I no longer trust my impulses. I’ve been wrong too often.”

He raised an eyebrow.

An unexpected urgency hurried my words. “I know this costs me your support, but I value the True, and will not speak falsely. I’ve learned that in some things I’m ignorant, and”-I swallowed a lump-“I may never have wisdom. I have too strong a temper, too little control of my tongue. Mother failed to teach me better. Perhaps she should have sent me more often to the Chamberlain.”

Silence permeated our chamber. My voice was husky. “I’ll do my best, but I admit that so far, my best hasn’t been much. At least I’ll have Rustin to help, until I irk him beyond his bearing.”

The Earl studied me without expression for a long while. Abruptly he rose. “Good day.” He hurried to the door.

I buried my face in my hands. “What have I done?”

Rust sat beside me, stroked me gently. “I don’t know, my prince. Whatever it brings, I fault you not.”

For some hours Earl Cumber made himself unavailable. Rust went to see Chela.

Having little better to do, I gave myself over to fantasies that I’d achieved the crown, and set about my rule. Where before in my dreams I forced my cousins to heel, made them pay me exaggerated gestures of respect, I thought now of what I’d do, day to day, on the throne of Caledon.

My travel had taught me that the realm was not well knit. Our roads were atrocious, especially in the back country. I’d do well to repair them. I wasn’t quite sure of the mechanism that governed their payment, and amused myself inventing new ones. Perhaps that was just as well; whatever system was in place seemed not to work.

The simplest way was to force the Lord who held the place under my liege to pay for the roads’ upkeep, but it occurred to me that some, at least, might raise objection to a new and considerable expense. How much did it cost to repair a road? I made a note to ask Rust.

In midafternoon Tresa knocked at my room.

Unbidden, she threw open my windows. “It’s stuffy in here. You’ll get a headache, or worse.”

“I had none.” My voice was some smidgeon less than cold.

“Close them; it matters not.” Her manner matched mine. “Grandfather wants me to examine your cut.”

“No!” I couldn’t let her handle me unclothed.

“As you wish, then.” That small curtsy, a gesture more of dismissal than subservience. “If there’s no other service …” She glanced at the door.

“Oh, stay awhile if you’d like. Rustin’s gone.”

“A charming invitation, my lord Prince.” Her tone was cold. “Yet I fear I must go.”

“How direct you’ve become, my lady.”

She hesitated. “I would leave, as my lord seems blind to the need of courtesy.”

It was what Rustin told me, oft enough. I sighed. “I’ve offended you.”

“Not at-”

“I always do.” It didn’t seem sufficient. “It’s a clumsiness I have.”

“I’ve noticed.” Her words struck like a glove on the face.

For a moment fury flamed, but, manfully, I swallowed it. “I’ve had my way a great deal, you see. Until recently.” Carefully, I stood. “If I’m to be King, I’ll have to learn better.”

“I agree, my lord. If I may bid you farewell …”

“But I apologized! Didn’t you hear?”

She paused at the door. “It was no apology, Prince Rodrigo. Merely an explanation. Good day.” And she was gone.

“Foolish, ignorant woman!” I spoke to the empty doorway.

Fostrow looked in, came to pull up a chair. “It was no apology, sire. You might like to know.”

“Keep your opinions to yourself!”

He scratched his head. “If you were my son,” he said solemnly, “I’d thrash you. I thought you’d like to know that too.” He set aside his chair, wandered to the window, looked out with hands folded behind him.

I fumed, knotting the covers in my hands. They all took advantage of me. Tresa vented her spleen; Fostrow took unwarranted liberties. His son? Bah. Were I King, I might hang him for such insolence.

After a time Rustin returned from town. “Chela looks to recover,” he said. “How go things here?”

“No surprises,” said Fostrow. “Rodrigo is his usual self.”

When he left, I called for parchment, wrote out two notes, laboriously copied them over until I was satisfied. To please Rust, I showed him them before sending Genard with the first.

He folded the scroll, handed it back. “Flowery and pretty, but far better to have no need.”

“I know.” My tone was humble. “I’ll really try, Rust.” I glanced outside, at the advancing day. “Send Genard to gather the horses, and tell Hester. We must be gone. I’ll say goodbye to Uncle Raeth.”

“What of his support you seek?”

“It’s lost, I assume. I’ve begged enough.”

Holding my side, Rustin hovering, I negotiated the two flights to the walled veranda wherein my uncle tended his flowers.

Garden blooms attracted me not at all, but I was so glad to be in sunlight I examined each blossom as if it held significance for me.

“They droop, now that autumn is on us.” The Earl, behind us, his hands and arms brown from the earth.

I turned, made the bow of courtesy.

“Ah, Rustin, he’s healing. We’re overjoyed, of course.” His pinched face gave no support to his words. “Mar’s courier made fast his journey home, I’m sure, with news of your presence.”

I asked, “And you’ve sent along your own word?”

“Not yet. What would you advise?”

“That you help me. Can I have horses, and men-at-arms?”

“To go against our colleague Margenthar? To tackle Eiber’s mighty army before the walls of Stryx?”

“To be a magnet, to which others might adhere, that I might have my throne.”

“He flies to the heart of the matter, eh, Rustin? Tell me, Roddy of Caledon, why should I help you?”

“The throne is rightfully mine. Mother-”

“No, no. You’re telling me why you want the crown. Tell me why I should want you to have it.”

“Does justice not move you?”

“Not a whit, lad.”

I looked for aid to Rustin, but he’d stepped back to let us have at it.

I took a deep breath. “What would move you, Uncle?”

“Mundane matters. Remission of taxes for ten years, for a start.”

“Is there more?”

He threw up his hands. “Aiyee, how can I support you unless you act like a king? You’re supposed to go choleric with rage at the very notion.”

“Inwardly, I seethe. What else do you demand?”

“Nothing that would trouble you.” His manner was offhand. “A few parcels of land in dispute with the Warthen. A barony for my friend Imbar, that sort of thing.”

I tried not to let my lip curl. “Imbar is but a commoner, and a servant at that.”

“That’s why it wants the King to ennoble him,” Raeth said agreeably. “Else, no need to ask.”

Rustin cleared his throat. “The Prince will think on it.”

I shook my head apologetically. “No need, Rust. May we sit, Uncle? I tire.”

The Earl snapped his fingers, and servants materialized. “Chairs, at once, and hot chocolate. Pastries too, while you’re at it.”

In a few moments we were seated. I leaned forward. “As to the borderlands you covet from the Warthen, don’t be too greedy in their choosing, and you may have them. I’ll reimburse him somehow.

“The taxes I won’t remit. It’s not that I don’t cherish your counsel and assistance”-I bowed, and he back-“but I can’t very well tax the rest of the realm and exempt you. Folk would be outraged, and I’d end up collecting nothing. On the other hand, I could assist you in building the new roads we’ll require, where others might have to provide for themselves.”

“A pity, young Rodrigo. Were it not for such harsh edicts I might have supported your-”

“The barony flies against decency and convention, but you may have it, the day after I’m crowned. That’s my concession, Lord Cumber. Were I you I’d prize it, for what other contender would consider such a thing? Lord Mar?”

The Earl’s sardonic manner faltered. “He speaks like … a king, does he not, Rustin? How odd. I thought him a mere boy.”

I blurted, “I am a boy, and want so to be a man. Will you not help me, instead of casting follies in my path?”

His face grew stiff. “I must go. Affairs bid our attention.” He got swiftly to his feet, strode away.

Dismayed, I watched him depart, thinking I’d lost all. But at the entranceway he paused, bowed formally. “My lord Rodrigo. Until tonight.”

“We must leave, Uncle.”

“Tarry until morn. You’ll be well protected.” He disappeared.

Rustin bent over, kissed me once on each cheek. “How can you act such a fool, and be so magnificent scant hours after?” His eyes glistened. He walked away to examine vines hung artfully from a trellis.

I idled away the final hours of the afternoon, playing chess with Elryc, chatting with Fostrow as an added gesture of amends. He’d said nothing of the note I handed him.

Rustin was absent through the long evening. When the sky darkened I was concerned. When I got ready for bed, Fostrow sitting quietly in the corner, I was most anxious, lest some ill had befallen him.

Rust’s knock came at last, as the candle dripped past the tenth hour. I threw open the door. “Why do you go off without telling us? Where have you-”

“Enough.” He brushed past.

“We’ve been all day without word-”

He spun, his eyes blazing. “Will you be silent? I don’t answer to you!”

I couldn’t help a sneer. “Was she so good you had to run back to her?”

He took my shoulders, backed me to the wall. I winced as the jar pervaded my knitting wound. “Where I’ve been is my business. Ask not.”

“Why do you anger so?”

“You’re a stupid boy, and demanding. Why do I follow you, when I esteem you not?”

I framed a mean reply, but abruptly his eyes filled, and my harsh response died unuttered. He fled to his adjoining room.

“He’s moody,” I told Fostrow. “Pay no heed.”

The soldier yawned. “Bar the door, my lord. I’ll sleep on the bench.” He departed.

I tried the door between our chambers. It was barred, from Rust’s side.

The Earl of Cumber requested our company at his breakfast table. Rustin and I dressed with trepidation. This morning his mood was civil, but distant. I wore the fine new robe Rust had bought me, over my best clothes. We debated whether I should bear the crown, and decided not.

“My lords.” The Earl rose. His table was set for an elegant repast, but for once his shadow Imbar was absent. He said, “Shall we have at it, Lord Rustin? Tresa tells me our prince believes in forthright discourse.”

With a weak smile, I poured my tea. I’d heard nothing from Lady Tresa since my apology.

“I’ll be frank: I believe the lad would be a decent king. Imbar was dubious, at first, but this morning he agrees. Of course, one must doubt what Rodrigo could accomplish without the Still of Caledon.”

I said, “The Vessels haven’t been swallowed in the earth.”

“But you don’t have them.”

“I’ll find them, if I have to rack Uncle Mar. But their loss isn’t as bad as it might seem; they can’t be used against me, if I’m crowned.”

Raeth snorted. “I find that less than reassuring. Even if you’re crowned, will you have the strength to hold your realm without the Still?”

My voice was heated. “Long enough to find my Power.” I rested my arms on the breakfast table, leaned close to him. “Uncle Raeth, I will do what I must to become King. Your support will make it easier, but I’ll go where I must. I’ll raise armies, best my foes, even …” I faltered.

“Say on, lad.” He was attentive.

“Even conquer myself.” I hadn’t meant to speak of what it cost to preserve myself for the Still, or admit I needed Rustin’s help to become a man. But, speak I did, of these things, and more.

When I stumbled to a halt, Raeth raised an eyebrow, addressed Rustin. “As we agreed, Imbar and I. The boy would make a good king.”

I said eagerly, “Then you’ll support-”

“He’s a bit too impetuous, of course. As you see.”

I colored at the rebuke.

“Shall I support you, young Rodrigo? No.”

My heart plunged.

“Not openly. I can’t afford a rift with Mar while he’s regent, and won’t countenance one. But between us …” He toyed with his napkin.

I gritted my teeth, determined to wait him out.

“It would depend on certain assurances.” His eyes met mine. “I would have to know, you see, that the promises you gave could never be treated lightly.”

“You’d have surety for my word?” A repugnant concept. “You’d doubt a nobleman’s-”

“Oh, don’t take it personally. We who hold power lie routinely. Perhaps churls do as well. But lords of Caledon have an advantage in dealing with our sovereign; his lie costs him dear.” A pause, for emphasis. “I’d have you swear on the True. An oath of my own devising, that assures me you’ll have no reservations, play no tricks, that your intent and meaning is identical to mine.”

I found it hard to keep my voice from trembling. “And the content?”

“Certain lands of Cumber, occupied these many years by the Warthen of the Sands.” A scroll appeared from under the table, with a map drawn. “The barony of which we spoke, and at least partial remission of taxes, for five years. I’m firm on the point.”

I waved assent to the scroll, wondering what I was giving away. “And I agree to the barony. All except the taxes. I won’t begin my reign by fomenting civil war.”

“Then we have no agreement.”

I stood. “I’m sorry, Uncle.” I moved toward the door. “We’ll avail ourselves of the safe-conduct you offered, as soon as we’re packed. I bid you-”

“Confound it, sit, and stop routing me at my own game. What would Imbar think if he saw me bested by a mere boy? Faugh!” A wave of disgust. “These pastries are specially made by a most talented baker. I taught him myself. I’ll live with your demon-inspired taxation.” He bit into a sweet.

I gaped. “You’ll support me?”

“Try the ones with cherry filling; they’re especially good. Not openly. You’ll flee Cumber, with a few of my troops in somewhat lazy pursuit. I’ll loan you funds, at a rewarding rate of interest, and a small complement of guards.”

“How many?”

“Say, five hundred men-at-arms.”

I sat stunned.

“I can’t raise more without being too obvious. A few personal servants, to do your cooking and the like. Twenty goldens a month will pay their expenses, and leave enough for you to progress in style.”

I managed, “We’ll make do.” Five hundred men were a force to be reckoned with. A glance at Rustin. His eyes showed triumph, but also pain. Puzzled, I set it aside for later. “I must have your vote in Council to put aside the regency and ratify my crown.”

“Name three firm votes, and mine will be fourth. For less, I dare not risk war with Mar.”

Rustin said, “He’ll need the promise of your vote to convince the others.”

“Then he won’t be King. I like the lad, but I won’t risk Cumber for him. How many votes have you?”

“I’ve one-”

“Two.” Rustin, too late.

“One firm, and perhaps others. May I at least tell Soushire?”

“No one. Especially not her; the woman eats garlic cloves whole. How can I have faith in her judgment?” The Earl wiped his mouth. “Are you prepared to swear now?”

“Yes.” I took a deep breath, and sat straighter. “Raeth, Lord of Cumber, I do promise by the True of Caledon that I shall uphold fully and without deceit this vow: that as King I shall grant the petition you present me today-”

“Promptly grant.”

“Promptly grant, to redress inequities in lands heretofore divided between Cumber and the Sands. Further, that I shall, the day after my coronation, ennoble and make Baron your counselor Imbar.”

“That there is no trick or deceit, or hidden meaning, or attempt to cavil or avoid these commitments fully.”

“All of that I swear, by the True.” My hands shook; I steadied them over my tea.

“That you will keep secret every aspect of my support, until revealing it shall do me and Cumber no harm.”

“By the True I so swear.” My palms lay flat over the cup, as if it were the Chalice.

“And one other thing; you’ll take my granddaughter to live at Stryx. Cumber’s too small a place for her.”

I frowned, before I considered the insult he’d see in it.

His lips turned upward. “She’s a decent sort. A pity you don’t like each other.”

“It’s not that …” I ran aground.

“Well.” He pushed away his plate. “Now I’ve an investment in you, Tresa’s to see your wound. I won’t have you suppurate and die filled with pus.” He wrinkled his nose. “Upstairs with you, as soon as we’re finished.”

I acknowledged his orders with a nod.

“Now, as to your brother.” He raised an eyebrow. “He’s welcome to our hospitality, while you go about seeking your crown.”

“It’s best if we’re together.”

“Best he have a clean bed and decent food, which you can’t provide. We’ll keep good eye on him.”

“Thank you, but Dame Hester has the care of him. She’ll want-”

“The boy stays here. Damn, Rodrigo, why do you force my fist from its velvet glove? Won’t you allow me a touch of subtlety?”

My lip curled. “Oh, no, Uncle, too many candles will gutter if he stays.”

It took him effort, but the Earl kept a firm check on his temper. Eventually he said quietly, “It has nothing to do with passion, you twit. Lord Rustin, explain to our prince that I’m tending my self-interest.”

“You’d control me through my brother? That’s more vile yet.” I was too angry to care what havoc my words caused, until Rust scraped back his chair, wandered around the table, rested a gentle hand on my shoulder, squeezed a warning. Slightly calmed, I added, “What control would you gain, Uncle? Is not Elryc my rival? Would it not be a service to find him no more?”

“Odd.” Uncle Raeth stroked his chin, a sardonic smile playing about his lips. “You showed no disaffection while you played chess with him last afternoon.”

“Perhaps I dissembled.”

“Then leave him with me, and remember the favor you’ll owe should you be rid of him. Ah, that displeases you? Then perhaps I gain power over you after all, by requiring his presence.”

Again I stood. “Sir, your games are too subtle for my untutored mind. Elryc travels with our party, or there’s no arrangement for me to honor.”

“I but said-”

“If you seek hostage to my word, you err on three counts: to doubt my given pledge, to doubt that I treasure the True, and to doubt that I’d cast aside kingdom and life itself before allowing my brother harm. Come, Rustin.” As best I could with side throbbing, I strode to the door.

From Uncle Raeth, a sigh. “How can a man negotiate, with you stalking off every time you’re thwarted? After a time it grows stale. Sit, Rodrigo.”

“Not this time, my lord. Know thee that I take offense at thy conduct. We’ll pack, and be gone. Now, Rust.” My voice snapped like a whip.

Together, Fostrow in tow, we mounted the stairs.

In our chamber Rust sealed the door, put his lips to my ears. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“He wants the barony.”

“Not so loud. He told you openly you’re watched.” Rust glanced about, as if in search of the spyhole. “You may have thrown away-”

“Do you not listen? He wants the barony for Imbar above all things. As I told him, Elryc makes a poor hostage because my interests aren’t well served by keeping him alive. Don’t give me that look; I speak impersonally, as others would see it. Think you I’d betray my own brother, and my oath?”

By way of answer, Rust dug into his purse, found a coin to flip. I put my hands around his throat, squeezed in sham fury. “About this, don’t jest. I want the crown, but I’m not afraid to lose it. I’ll certainly not have it by betraying my blood.”

Rustin tickled me under my outstretched arms, and I leaped clear. “Roddy, I find it amazing that you’re two distinct people. In matters of statecraft, you’re mature. I hate to say it, but … wise too. In personal affairs, you’re-”

“I know. A dunce. But I try to be less duncelike each day. Fostrow, did I do right apologizing to you?”

The soldier grunted. “The note was pretty enough.”

“You mean I’m still in your bad graces. How do I get out?”

“A serious query?” Fostrow studied my face. At last, satisfied, he said, “You’re Prince of the realm and I but a weary old guardsman. I accept that. But, laddie, I’m old enough to be your father twice over. Think you not every youngsire owes some courtesy to those who’ve aged before them? Is it not possible we ancients have yet some wisdom to impart?”

I sat on the bed, unlaced my boots. “Very well, I’ll try to show your gray hairs more respect, since you have so many of them.” I lay back. “Rust, I’m glad you’re in better humor than last night. What was bothering you?”

It was as if Rust’s mood were a delicate crystal I’d tapped too hard. His face clouded over, and he strode to the interconnecting door, passed through into his own room. “Leave me be, Roddy.” The bolt slid closed.

I sighed. “What makes Rust so moody?”

“What makes any of us what we are?” With a grunt of effort Fostrow rose, took his place in the hall.

I sent for Hester and Elryc, to tell them of our debacle. We’d have to hurry our exit, before Uncle Raeth decided to deliver me to Mar. My faith in his promise of safe-conduct was less than I might like.

Our next aim would be Soushire, where I’d attempt to persuade the fat old Duchess to support my cause.

Hester, for once, listened without complaint of my behavior. “A difficult man. Always was.”

“Even if he spoke in jest I couldn’t-”

“Your mother never knew what to do with him. Glad she was he lived in the windswept hills of Cumber, and not under her nose. She was always polite to him, for Josip’s sake.”

I put finger to my lips, to indicate listeners.

Perverse, she raised her voice. “A difficult man, I said. He swore fealty to Elena, but toys with the ruin of her son.” She glared at my discomfort. “There is a time for candor.”

“Thank you, Milady Chancellor.” My tone was dry.

A knock. I opened, to Imbar, in a flowing multicolored robe.

“Prince Rodrigo.” A formal bow, with a flourish. “Lord Elryc. My lord Earl is indisposed, and bids me convey his regrets.”

Rustin peered through our connecting door. Frowning, stiff, he took his place at my side. Imbar patted his shoulder indulgently. I waited for Rust to whirl, draw sword, and strike off the lowborn’s hand, but he fastened his eyes on the far wall and said nothing.

“Rae’s sent me to arrange details of your convoy.”

“Convoy!” My heart pounded. “What about Elryc?”

“He assumes you’ll want your brother along.” Imbar’s face was expressionless. “I’ll show you the captain who’ll have charge of our men.”

“If they go with me, I’ll have charge.”

“He’ll have charge of our troop, and carry out your orders.”

I sighed. “Very well. Rust, let’s go.” I took a cloak against the still wind.

Elryc demanded, “Let me meet him.”

“No, you stay-”

“Promises.” Just one word.

I clenched my teeth, swallowed my ire. “Very well. Do we go outside, Imbar? Elryc, bring your cape.”

Hester made a sound, almost a growl. Her rheumy eyes fixed Imbar, and held something sharp. “Tamper not with honor, or the lives of my boys, or I’ll rot the skin off your bones while you scream in your bed.” That odd gesture, she’d made once before. Involuntarily, I recoiled.

Imbar seemed unmoved, though he licked his lips. “My lord Earl gave his safe-conduct. Besides, I’m among you. Would I risk my own life for so little gain?”

A sentry came to arms as we neared. I wasn’t sure if he gave honor to the valet, or me. Surely, even Uncle Raeth wouldn’t have his men present arms to a valet. Yet Imbar comported himself as co-master of the house, which perhaps he was. He’d even laid hand on Rust’s shoulder as if they were equals.

A grand stone edifice housed the Earl’s officers. In Stryx, soldiers lived in outbuildings, in the castle warrens, or in tents. Even officers lived so; to provide them better was to suggest they were the equal of their masters, and how then could they be asked to die for us?

Imbar asked the sentry, “Is Tursel within?”

“At the common room, sir.”

Indoors, I blinked, waiting for my eyes to accustom. Even the trappings were above the station we accorded to our officers; well-made hangings, sturdy tables with extra touches of grace, comfortable chairs. It would cost Lord Cumber a pretty penny to maintain a troop to this standard, and I wondered why he’d do it.

A door opened. A short man, hair close-cropped, a wide nose. “I’m Tursel. This way, my lords.” I studied him as we passed his extended hand. Younger than Fostrow-what soldier wasn’t? — but still old, at least twice my age.

Imbar said with proper formality, “My lord Prince, may I present Tursel, formerly captain of the second household troop of Cumber.”

“Formerly?”

“He was dismissed as of last night, and his oath of loyalty dissolved. He seeks a new master. Tursel, this is Rodrigo of Caledon, Prince and heir.”

From Tursel, a formal bow, with due acknowledgment of rank. “My lord.”

Elryc tugged insistently on my arm, and I turned aside while he whispered. “He’ll always be Uncle’s man, no matter what he swears.”

“I know, but-”

“If you put us into their hands, they’ll guard us from escape as well as from enemies!”

I said gently, “We’re already in their hands.” Then, to Tursel, “How would you serve us?”

“I’d escort you whither you would go, sire.”

“Why would you serve us?”

“For pay, and-”

My lip curled in disgust. “You’re a mercenary?”

He drew himself up. “My life has been in allegiance to my lord Earl. I would be so today, but for his request I serve you.”

“You’d give me loyalty?”

“I’d swear an oath so.”

“And when my interests diverge from his, what then?”

“I-” His eyes flickered, and fell. “I know not, my lord.”

All at once, I liked him. Honesty was a quality rarely found in the halls of nobility. As must be; it was too dangerous to be bandied about without constraint. “Tell me this much: If the Earl and I become enemies, would you leave me, or destroy me on his behalf?”

Tursel’s manner seemed to relax. “Leave, my lord. It would be the honorable path.”

“You concern yourself with honor? Good. Know men that to betray me to my enemies, to Margenthar of Stryx, would be to destroy me utterly.”

“If I enter your service I won’t do that, sire. Even at the Earl’s bidding.”

“Imbar, does your patron know he’s unleashed a man of honor in our mutual service? Lord of Nature knows where it will lead.” I smiled for an instant, then squared my shoulders. “Tursel, I offer you service to my person and in my domains, as captain of my troop, as my principal lieutenant in matters of arms, upon your vow of loyalty to me and mine, until the death of one of us. Accept you this commission?”

“I do.”

Swiftly we went through the ritual of loyalty, in which he bound himself to me and I vowed to look after his material needs, as spelled out in the vows. A sordid bit of oath-taking, I’d always thought, but necessary, given man’s lust for material goods.

When we were done, I asked, “Now, as to the men. Who picked them?”

“They’re mostly from my old troop, sire. I know them well.”

“Troublemakers?”

“A few, but they know me well, also. If I may have a free hand, you’ll have no problems.”

Should I involve myself, or leave all to him? “Elryc?”

He nodded.

“Done.” I turned to Imbar. “What next?”

“Leave Cumber quickly. My lord Earl sends his regrets that it must be so, but we can’t appear to be in collusion with you. And you can’t depart openly; it would expose the pretense that you’ve evaded us. We’ll first send Tursel and his troop on some mission, then you’ll leave quietly, to meet them in the hills. A squad of our guardsmen will pursue you with full hue and cry. That should be theater enough.”

“It’s complicated.”

“But necessary, if Mar is to be assuaged.” His voice was smooth. “Don’t concern yourself; I’ll set up the details with Lord Rustin. Duke Margenthar will suspect, but he’ll have no proof, so we’ll be free to carry on relations. Diplomatic niceties will be observed.”

I muttered, “They make me sick.”

“Then don’t seek to be King, my lord.”

To that, I had no answer. We returned to the donjon.

We were packed, and waiting for servants to haul our gear down the winding stairs, when Tresa appeared once more. Her tone was businesslike. “Let me inspect your cut.”

“I don’t need-”

“Grandfather said I must.”

Stifling my objections, I dropped my cloak on my bed, fumbled with the strings of the jerkin I’d managed to slide over my bandages. Tresa brushed my fingers aside, adroitly undid the crude knots while I stood uncomfortable, hoping yesterday’s bath was still of benefit.

The bandages were wrapped tight about my incision, knotted on my good side. She untied them with cold fingers that made me flinch. The innermost cloth stuck to my side; she poured water on a fresh cloth, dabbed at the bandage until it came away.

“Raise your arm.”

I was fully conscious how much more manly Rustin’s chest was than mine. Never had the difference seemed greater than now. Where he was muscular, with fine strands of soft hair from neck to groin, I looked almost a baby, and was hairless but for tufts under my arms. I tensed my upper arms to show more muscle, but if she noticed she gave no sign.

“Does that hurt?” She prodded.

I recoiled. “Yes!”

She ran deft fingers across the well-formed scab. “No infection. That’s good.”

I longed for my jerkin. “I’m cold.”

She finished reapplying the bandage. “Dress, then. Shall I help you?”

“No!” I turned away, to hide the flush of my cheeks. Gritting my teeth, I recalled kneeling by the stream at Hester’s cottage. No humiliation could match what I’d already survived. I need not berate myself, for such a little thing as this.

When I looked back at Tresa, my tone was light, though the effort it cost was dear. “Thank you, my lady.” I eased the jerkin over my wound. “I know it must have been unpleasant for you.” Almost I’d added, “as well,” but caught myself in time.

“Not really. I’ve grown used to it.” Her mouth twitched with what might have been mischief. “And you’re more handsome than most I’ve tended.”

My tone went hard. “Don’t mock me.”

It was her turn to color. “I didn’t, my lord.” A curtsy. “I’ll leave you now.”

“No, stay.” My words came before thought, and I was astounded. Whatever had made me say such a thing? Now I’d have to entertain her, and hadn’t the slightest idea how it was done.

I sat, feeling an awkward child. Silence lengthened. Desperate for something to say, I blurted, “I don’t know how to talk to a woman.”

“A mere woman, you mean?”

I colored. “It was boorish, and I’m sorry. I haven’t much practice at civility.”

“Why not, my lord?”

“You might as well call me Roddy; everyone does. Perhaps because Mother made me show her courtesy, but didn’t much care how I treated others.”

“You’re not the first arrogant Lord that lived.” She sounded curious. “But how came you to be aware of it?”

I felt giddy, as from too much wine. “By making a fool of myself over and again, until even I couldn’t ignore it.”

“We all feel we’ve done that, at times.” She looked to the window. “At the banquet.”

“Don’t remind me. I’m sor-”

“No, I meant myself. For supposing you recalled when we’d met.” For a moment she blushed, but then it faded, and all that was left was an inexplicable lump in my throat. “I felt all the more foolish for knowing I made you feel the same.”

Our eyes met.

Not knowing what else to do, I smiled. “Does it matter, in the great scheme of things?”

“Perhaps not.” Tentative, her smile blossomed in answer.

I cleared my throat, searching for something to say. “Your grandfather wants you settled at Stryx, to find a husband.”

Her face hardened. “He means well, of course.”

“You find Stryx so distasteful?”

“I found it quite beautiful, when wind and tide raised the waves below.”

“Yet you sounded displeased.”

“At forced marriage.”

“Arranged, for your benefit.”

“Have I a choice?”

“Relatives could hardly arrange it properly if the woman could refuse-”

“The mere woman.”

“I never said that.”

“You had no need.”

“How like your sex, to quibble.”

“Good day, my lord.” Her cheeks glowed color, but her face was stony.

“Wait, my lady.”

I winced at the slam of the oaken door. After a while, I wandered to the window, stared down at the courtyard. “Women! Creatures of whim. Brainless hares, the lot of them.”

“Does that include my lady Elena?” Hester, in a growl.

I jumped. “Who let you in?”

“Fostrow said you were alone.” She glanced about, chose a stiff chair, eased herself into it, put her stick across her lap. “Will Elryc stay at Cumber?”

“It gives the Earl too much power over us.” Even if his spies overheard, I said nothing we didn’t all know.

“Then he’ll come with me, regardless of where you jaunt with your borrowed troops.”

“But you’ll travel with us.”

“I go to Verein, for Pytor.” Her tone was blunt. “Do you?”

“I need Soushire’s vote, or the Warthen’s, to undo Mar. After that …”

“Mar taunts us that Pytor’s dying. We’ll leave tonight, Elryc and I.” She made ready to stand. “Cumber’s stipend will buy servants, to make our travel easier.”

“I can’t let you haul my brother on a wild chase to Verein.”

She struggled to her feet, approached me with a look I cared not for. “Let, Princeling?”

“Hester, be reasonable!” I backed away.

She waved her stick. “Let events be reasonable! Your mother entrusted your life to me, but you grow too willful for me to help. I can’t protect Elryc by leaving him here; even you agree on that, and how can I leave him in the care of two brainless boys in the fever of a quest?”

“That’s not fair.”

“Pytor needs rescue. How can I choose twixt him and Elryc? The only way’s to bring Elryc along.”

“Verein lies past Uncle Mar’s troops at Stryx, and past Tantroth’s besieging army. To which of them would you give Elryc?”

“I’ll find a way.” Her face was troubled. “I know not what else to-”

“Verein and Soushire both lie to the south. Ride with us until our trails must diverge. By then, I’ll decide.”

“Pytor is eight!” For a moment her voice trembled. “And helpless. His succor cannot wait!”

I walked softly to the window, leaned on the sill, head in hands. Mother, pass me your wisdom. I beg you.

But there was only the cool wind.