The Still

Chapter 6

For two days I waited for Rustin, rage battling resignation.

Uncle Mar returned from Verein in full retinue. Alerted with the rest of the household by the hornsmen, I hurriedly donned formal garments and was poised on the steps to receive him, much as he’d greeted me.

I nodded my head in a gesture of courtesy; he did likewise, not even offering the trifling incline of the house bow. I pretended not to notice. He responded affably to my words of welcome; we played out the charade until we were within the keep, and went our separate ways.

By evening of the second day, Rustin had still not come. Nearly deranged from dallying in wait, I had a horse saddled, rode to the gate, where unfamiliar faces stood guard. They wouldn’t let me through. Stymied, I sought out Uncle Mar to ask his leave, but I couldn’t get past the anteroom. I had to beg my uncle’s leave secondhand, through the guardsman Fostrow on duty outside his door.

The man returned in moments. “No, he says. It’s too late of the evening.”

“But it’s only to ride down the hill. To Rustin.”

“Don’t whine at me, Prince; it’s the Duke’s word.”

“Let me speak to him!”

“He’s occupied. Try tomorrow.”

I couldn’t bandy words with this-this hireling; I dreaded his contempt, though he might not show it openly. With what dignity I could summon, I left. In my room, I threw myself on my bed.

Our Power wasn’t worth the cost. I’d renounced my manhood for a crown that might never be mine, for a Still I’d never wield against dangers I might never face. Chela would lie with me, or some housegirl of our own. It was time my imaginings were supplanted by the intimacy my friend Rustin, Mar’s son Bayard, perhaps even Elryc had already savored.

Moreover, if I gave up the Still, Uncle Mar wouldn’t see me as a threat. Perhaps then he’d allow me my crown. Soon or late, he’d go the way of all flesh, and I could reign in earnest. The only part I couldn’t fathom was how to assure him I’d become a man. Even if he provided the girl, Mar wouldn’t take my word for it; in our family we were realists. But I couldn’t very well let him watch. That was unthinkable.

What if I got him to supply a virgin? One of the household churls, or a field hand’s whelp. After, he could have her examined. Surely, that would satisfy even a suspicious man like Uncle.

I wondered what she’d look like. After a time, my thoughts became less coherent. I fought the urge, found myself outmatched, chose surrender. At the end, lying inert, covers thrown back to evaporate my sweat, I fought back tears.

Then, at last, I slept

In the sweltering morn I lay drowsing beyond my usual hour, until roused by a persistent knock. I covered myself with a sheet before I unbarred.

Rustin waited, wearing only a light, loose-fitting robe.

My breath hissed. “Where have you been?”

“I couldn’t come.”

“Rutting with your kitchen girl, were you? She means more than our friendship.” I kicked at a chair.

For answer, he untied his loose belt, shrugged off his robe.

“Lord of Nature!” My breath hissed. His back and rump were a mass of fading red welts. “Who did that?”

“My father.” His voice was almost inaudible.

“Couldn’t you free yourself? You’re bigger than he. Didn’t you call for help, take away the stick-”

“I let him.” Rust’s misery extinguished the embers of my rage. He picked up the robe, wincing.

I laid it carefully across his bare shoulders. “Why, Rust?”

“Because I rode with you up the hill.”

“Didn’t you explain? I couldn’t have faced the lords without you.”

“That, he understood. But I’d defied him before his-no, don’t shake your head, it does matter. I was too impetuous to go back to the keep and explain; I spurned his order in sight of his guards. That, he couldn’t forgive.”

“Still, how could you let him beat you so?”

His tone sharpened. “Would you I challenged him twice in two days, and be known through Caledon as unruly and willful? Whose gate would open to me then?”

“Better that than have the skin flayed from your back!”

“His hurt had to be assuaged, and the welts will fade. Next time I’ll be more cautious.” He grinned, with little mirth.

I found clothes, threw them on. “Uncle Mar is back.”

“We saw his procession.” The road from Verein intersected the descent from our hill, at Llewelyn’s keep. “He must have emptied his castle. Fully two hundred horse.”

“They’re posted everywhere. I couldn’t slip out last night. How’d you get in?”

“The gate’s open for tradesmen. I went round to the kitchen, where everyone knows me.” He perched on my bed. “Throw open your window; the room’s musty.”

It wasn’t his place to tell me so, but I did as bidden. Then, beckoning him close, I told him of Pytor, and how I hid Elryc.

“Where is he?”

I splashed water on my face, wiped it dry. It would do for ablutions. “A good day to talk outside.”

We strolled out to the dusty courtyard, round the foundation walls of the keep, to the orchard that, along with outbuildings, stables, smithies and fruit cellars, surrounded Stryx Castle. All were enclosed by the stronghold’s massive outer walls. On three sides, jagged rock and plunging ravines made assault hopeless. The battlements on the fourth wall, facing the road from Stryx, were bristling with round stones, spears, arrows. Guardhouses every hundred paces overlooked the winding Castle Way.

Now, the ramparts were guarded as if for war. Torches pierced the night shadows; sentries patrolled each catwalk. Even the high tower was manned. Thank Lord of Nature we’d moved Elryc in time.

We went to the orchard, where under welcome shade and safe from prying ears, I finished my story. “The only ones who know are old Griswold and Garmond, the stable-boy.”

“A dung beetle.” He laughed softly.

“It was all I could think of.”

“Might we smuggle Elryc to your room?”

“Stire may search again.” I shifted out of the advancing sun. “What about your father’s keep?”

“No.” A tone of finality.

“Not for Elryc’s sake, for mine.”

“I won’t ask it.” He leaned forward, spoke to my frown. “Roddy, it would mean Father’s death. Mother’s too.”

“Uncle Mar may be spiteful, but he doesn’t go about slaughtering-”

“He’s not had need. Would you he set an example?”

I had no answer. I recalled Uncle Mar’s glance of hatred as I’d barred him from Mother’s door.

From the courtyard, trumpets.

Rustin glanced about. “Now what?”

I shrugged. Perhaps Uncle Mar was leaving again for Verein. Good riddance. “Rust, I’ve been thinking about giving up the Power.”

He sucked in a breath, then busied himself with a blade of grass. Finally he said, “Not yet.” He licked his lips, as if nervous. “When it’s time, you’ll know.”

He got carefully to his feet, favoring his welts.

We roamed the grounds of Castle Stryx. Tents had been set up near the scullery for the extra men from Verein. Boys of the town and castle jostled to watch the soldiers clean and arrange their gear; I tugged Rustin’s arm and made him come away, lest we appeared to be mixing with such riffraff.

In the kitchen, Kerwyn looked up from his meal. “The Duke’s men seek you.”

“Why?”

He snorted. “Lord Mar doesn’t consult me, sire.”

I retreated with Rustin to the sultry daylight. “Should I go?”

“Three days ago you were anxious enough to see him.”

True, but Uncle Mar had taken on aspects of Mother at her most imperious. He wasn’t my parent, nor my liege lord; I owed him nothing. Reluctantly, I trudged along the massive inner wall of the keep itself, toward the front entrance.

I ran my hand across the rough stones as we approached the corner. “How does it look, that I come crawling to his summons?”

“Stuff and nonsense. If I called, wouldn’t you come?”

“That’s diff-”

A figure cannoned round the corner, knocked me to the turf. I lay stunned, breathless.

With a roar Rustin hurled the intruder off my chest, flung him aside. His dagger unsheathed, he whirled, searching for more attackers.

I croaked, “It’s only Garrand.”

The stableboy scrambled to his feet, rubbing his forehead. He circled me warily, keeping my supine form between himself and Rustin. “It’s Genard, m’lord. Did you hear the crier?”

I struggled to draw breath. My sore rib, recovering from my fall down the steps, gave notice of misery to come. “Hear what, you misbegotten oaf?” I stumbled to my feet, braced myself against the rock wall. “Rust, I think he broke-”

“They’ve proclaimed Elryc!”

My mouth worked like a goldfish in the pond. It could not be so.

“You lie!” Rustin cornered the urchin stableboy against the stones.

“It’s true! The crier was on the very steps of the castle. He said-”

“They proclaimed Elryc King.” I slid to the ground, clutching my aches. I’d never trusted the scheming foul-minded little goblin. Here I’d risked life and station to protect him, and behind my back he’d made treaty with the Duke.

“Not King, outlaw!” Genard was beside himself. “The crier called him traitor, said that you were rightful heir, that your brother plotted against you. Twenty gold pieces to any man who found him.”

“Rust, what’s Uncle up to?”

The stableboy danced from toe to toe. “Twenty goldens!”

I cuffed him across the mouth. “Villain, I’ll wear your skin for a jerkin, if you but breathe a word …”

“I won’t!”

“I heard your greed.” I twisted his hair, flung him to the ground. “Don’t let the thought cross your pea brain!”

“Easy, Roddy.”

“You too, Rust? Would you betray us for twenty goldens? Or perhaps you’d bargain for-Ow!”

Rustin stood over me, fists ready. “You call me traitor?”

From the turf, the stableboy watched, jaw agape, a tear drying on his cheek.

I rubbed my chin, half-dazed from Rustin’s blow, wondered if I was in position to kick his legs from under him. Then, despite my fury, a smile twitched. My head lay no more than a foot from Genard’s. As I had done, Rustin had done to me.

“Oh, stop!” Grumbling, I got to my feet, waving away the threat of his blow. “I didn’t mean it.”

Rustin’s passion was aflame. “You’re a lout and a bully!”

“And your liege.”

“True. My liege lord, you’re a lout and a bully!”

“Some vassal you.” I winced, offered a hand to the stableboy. “Up. My temper got the better of me.”

“Should he think that an apology?” Rust’s tone was acid.

“Need I apologize to a churl?” Preposterous. I pulled the urchin to his feet.

The boy’s lip quivered, much as Elryc’s had, in his terror atop the tower. Well, I could have regrets, and speak them, with honor. “I wish I hadn’t lost my temper.”

The boy nodded, eyes downcast. Somehow, it didn’t seem enough.

I hoped I wouldn’t ruin him for service. “I hope you’re not much hurt, Garmond.”

“Genard.” His eyes rose shyly. “I’m all right, m’lord.”

Rustin thrust a warning finger at me, spoke to the urchin. “His brother’s life is in your hands, stableboy. Only a fool would betray it for a mere twenty goldens. When Rodrigo’s King, your loyalty will reap a fortune.” Genard’s eyes grew round.

Now Rust was raiding my treasury before I’d secured it. After a moment my frown relaxed. It was he who’d made the promise. Let him pay the stableboy his ransom.

“Satisfied, Rust? Or must I apologize to you, for knocking me down?”

“A lout and a bully.” But his anger was fading.

“What’s Uncle Mar up to?”

“You’re the one to be King. Think.”

Sometimes he was beyond bearing. I sighed. “Mar hopes to unearth Elryc. But a reward would do that by itself. Why talk of treason?” I leaned against the wall, dabbed again at my lip.

Uncle Mar wanted all three of us under his control. Elryc loose was a danger, however ill-defined. By proclaiming him traitor, he would separate my adherents from Elryc’s, and neutralize them as players in the game of state. And also …

My eyes went up. “He’s raising the stakes.”

Rust asked quietly, “How so?”

The stableboy swiveled between us.

“Mar suspects I’ve helped hide my brother, despite my denial. Condemning Elryc is a warning to me, not to cross him further.”

“But if they find him-” Genard.

“Did we ask you?” The boy wilted under my glare.

“No, sire. I’ll go now.” He sidled away.

“Hold! Where are you off to?” Hester was right; the only safe mouth was one closed by death.

“To warn him, m’lord! The stable’s not safe, with everyone looking. If someone from kitchen or the smith’s boy recognizes him …” He seemed about to bolt.

“Rustin, he’s right. We have to move him.”

“Where?”

“The winery? A toolshed?”

Genard blurted, “He isn’t safe at the castle. Outside.”

I glowered. “You’re not safe. Begone, and we’ll stir our stew without your nose in the pot.”

“No, stay,” said Rustin. “Roddy, we have few enough allies.”

“Him? A simpering fool who knows not who his father is? A peasant?”

“As always, your grace is inspiring.” Rust’s tone turned colder. “Roddy, I do think I’m about to feed you grass, until you come to your senses.”

Hastily I backed away, desperate to avoid humiliation in the sight of a stableboy. “Don’t you dare-”

Rustin rolled up his sleeves. “You can’t treat folk like-”

“All right, I’m sorry!” I flushed crimson. “Both of you! Garmand, I didn’t mean any insult.”

“My father was a singer of lays!” The boy’s face was red. “He sang his tales for your mother the Queen. My ma told me ofttimes!”

“I said I’m-”

He squalled, “And my name is Genard! Not Garmand, or Garron, or any of the stupid things you call me!”

I looked with disgust to Rustin. “See what you made of him?” How dare a churl shout at a prince? Even if my temper was undone, I’d been gracious enough to apologize. As soon as we got to the stable, I’d have Griswold lay a stick to the young lout’s back.

Rust seemed less put out than I. “Lower your voice, Genard. I accept your apology, Prince Rodrigo.” He bowed.

“Arghh.” I should have stayed under my covers, and ignored Rustin’s knock. “It’s too hot to fight.” I sat, leaned against the wall, waited until the throbbing of my ribs subsided. “Genard of the stables, sit over here.” I patted the grass. “Rust, we’d better think quickly. Where can we move Elryc?”

“Have you coin for a bed at the Thorn and Briar?”

“He couldn’t sit to eat in the public-”

Rust said, “I could bring him food, in his room. If not me, Chela.”

“The inn’s too crowded.” Someone would spot him, soon or late. “Nowhere in the city. Too many greedy folk prowl the streets.” Once, when I’d been nine, my purse had been cut from my belt, and I’d never known ’til I dug for a copper.

“What, then?”

“Hester.” The word thrust from my throat, unbidden. “She’ll know.”

“Can we trust her?”

“Don’t ask it to her face, Rust. Pytor was her life. Second to him, Elryc.”

“Let’s go, then.”

“Genard, tell my brother to hide as deep in the stables as he might. In the loft, behind the hay. It’ll be hot.” I fumbled for a coin. “Bring him mulled wine, dilute and cold. We’ll decide our course.”

After all I’d done for him, the stableboy seemed sullen. “You’d trust me, then? What if I run to the Duke?”

“Well, there’s always life as a dung beetle. Besides, have I choice but to trust you?” I frowned; it hadn’t come out the way I’d wished. “Garm-Genard, will you pledge to serve me, for the House of Caledon? Serve me personally, that is?”

“As your sworn man?”

I pondered. Only the well-born might take an oath of loyalty to a particular noble. Rustin had done so, on my behalf. But an unwashed bumpkin such as Genard? Ridiculous, but I had little choice.

“Yes. My sworn man.”

He hesitated a long moment. Then, “No, m’lord.”

As I turned molten he blurted, “I’ll serve Elryc, if he’ll have me.”

“You-what?”

“I’d be his liegeman.” He drew himself up to his small stature. To my stunned silence he said, “I’ll tell him.”

Genard stalked toward the stable. I watched with grudging eye. His bearing had, for the first time, dignity.

Rustin and I hurried round the foundation wall of the castle. “I imagine she’ll be in the nursery.” We passed through the entry to the great stone stairs. The vaulted ceiling of the hall offered cool relief from the relentless sun.

“Ah, there you are!” Stire, the Duke’s man. “Where go you?”

My shirt hung damp, my lip had begun to swell; I’d narrowly avoided a mouthful of grass from my lunatic vassal, and I’d had altogether enough. “I don’t answer to you!”

An elaborate bow, suffused with sarcasm. “Perhaps not, my prince. But Margenthar of Stryx, Duke and Regent, my master, asks you to remain in your chambers until he speaks with you.”

“I’ll consider it.” I started up the stairs, Rustin in tow.

“Consider it well. I’ll post guards if you don’t cooperate.”

I stopped short. “You’d make me prisoner, Stire?”

“I’d do worse were it up to me.” His face made clear his inclination. “Be in your rooms, youngsire, when your uncle comes to visit. Your playmate”-a contemptuous gesture at Rustin-“may keep you company.”

I nodded, too enraged to speak. We disappeared from his sight; I stalked past the entry to my chambers, galloped up to the third-floor nursery.

I knocked. “Hester?” Last time I’d visited, she’d sat despondent at her table. “Are you in?” No answer; I opened the unlocked door and went in. “Rust, if she’s out, go-Lord of Nature!” An apparition lunged across the chamber, jagged blade clenched tight in hand.

“Come you again, demons of the lake?”

I cowered against the wall opposite. Her eyes half-mad, Hester bore an ancient notch-edged knife she used to slice our bread and cheese. A whirl sent Rustin dancing to safety. A jab in my direction; I sucked in my stomach, avoided by a whisker the spill of my guts. “Lord’s love, Hester! It’s me, Roddy!”

A snarl, to Rustin. “Get away, you!” Her lip curled. “Where’s my boy?”

I tensed at each flick of her blade. “Hester, don’t you know me?”

“Think ye I’m daft, arrogant Princeling? You were to inform me day by day: I had your word! Where’s my Elryc?”

“That’s what we-”

“Tell me this moment, or I’ll gut you like a trout!” The point of her blade pressed at my navel. Rustin, dagger drawn, circled behind. “This instant!”

A pinprick, on my tensed belly. I yelped. “In the stables!”

She swung to Rustin. “Is it true, whelp?”

“Put down the knife, grandmother. If you harm my prince-”

“Faugh. Call off your watchpuppy, Roddy.” Blade still in hand, she brushed past Rustin as if he didn’t exist. Rust’s jaw dropped.

“Sit, both of you. I’ll bar the door.”

I rolled up my shirt, peered, wiped a droplet of blood from my navel. I took a long, slow breath to slow my heart’s pounding. “See what I’ve put up with?” I shoved Rustin to a bench.

“She tried to kill us!”

“No, I’d be gawping my life out, if she so intended. Think ye Mother trusted just anyone, with her cubs?”

“But she’s so old, so bent. How can she …”

“Sit.” I pushed him down. “She’s a tad irate.” Not to say deranged. On the other hand, she was firmly on our side.

“Why the stables?” With a sigh, Hester lowered herself to the bench opposite, absently fingering the point of her blade.

“He’s made friends with the stableboy. The boy brings him food and drink.”

“Elryc’s had nothing but that slop? Arr.” She lay aside the blade, flexed her withered fingers. “You, Llewelyn’s boy, see if the tea on the hearth is warm.” A moment’s reflection. “Griswold’s a good man, I judge. The reward won’t bend him.” Her eyes shot up. “Your precious uncle put a bounty on Elryc’s head. Called him a traitor.”

“I heard, Nurse.” My tone was meek.

“That shrew Rowena came running, delighted with the news. A goodly while you took, before you came to me.” She brooded while Rustin poured steaming tea into her well-used cup. I wondered how she could stand the heat of it. She sighed. “Where shall we take him?”

“We?”

“I might need your help, to fetch and carry. My bones are old. Lord of Nature knows you can’t be trusted alone to watch a foal in a stall, lest some butterfly float past and you-”

“Please!” Perhaps some hint of my anguish reached her, for she fell silent.

I swallowed a lump in my throat. Mother had kept me at heel in matters that concerned her, but otherwise I’d done as I pleased. I thought nothing of roaming off to see Rustin, or galloping through the fields with Griswold. As long as I appeared at my lessons, and promptly answered Mother’s summons, my days had been my own. Now I was fenced on all sides, by Mar’s scheming, the Chamberlain’s uncertainty, Stire’s contempt.

“Faugh.” Hester sipped at her tea. “Feeling sorry for yourself? A habit you’d best outgrow if you’d be King. Think instead of poor Elryc, alone and terrified.” Another sip. “I have a sister, Tarana. Had. Three years now she’s gone. But her cottage remains, and it’s mine. The millkeeper tends it for me.”

“Where?”

“In the hills south of Cumber.”

Almost two days hard ride. For us younger ones, that was. Even if Hester could still sit a horse, she couldn’t possibly ride at such a pace. She’d either dash her bones to splinters at her mount’s first shy, or drop from exhaustion before the day was out.

“Rust and I will take him. Just tell us the way.”

“Goatbabble. Think you I’d leave a helpless child to your notion of-”

“Nurse, would you risk his life by slowing us?”

“Bah.” She eyed her tea with distaste. “Time was when you and that brute stallion of yours couldn’t catch me on my mare, if your life itself lay in balance.” A sigh. “I’ll ride, if I must, though my saddlebags will be packed with liniment.” She gestured to the pot. “Heat it well, this time.”

Obediently, Rustin tossed the dregs of her cup in the slop bucket, put the kettle back on the embers.

“Besides, lad, there’s not such haste. Margenthar has no need of a nurse; I’ll tell him I’ve retired to my demesne. My gear will fill a wagon, and its pace will befit an old lady.”

“That’s ridiculous. Once they know you’ve sneaked Elryc away, mounted soldiers could ride in an hour what you’d manage in a day.”

“Why would they?”

“And you can’t drive out the gate with my brother sitting at your side. No matter where you hide him, knowing your feelings they’ll search every inch-”

Her hand cracked down on the table, and made me jump. “He’ll leave Stryx unharmed, if I have to turn him into a sparrow and fly him over the wall. Leave you that to me.”

Rustin coughed. “Think, Roddy. Nurse can get a day’s start; we can ride after, to meet her. Else we’d all troop through the gate like-”

“Oh!” I’d forgotten. I couldn’t troop through the gate, with Elryc or alone. Uncle Mar had restricted my movement. Somehow, I’d have to break my chains. “We can’t separate; what if out paths fail to cross? I won’t leave Elryc.”

Hester’s fingers made a mysterious sign at my eyes. I snapped shut my mouth, ice chilling my spine. When I’d been small she’d shushed me so, warning me she had the Black Way. I’d never dared test her of it. “Elryc and I leave together, my young Prince Roddy. We’ll wait for you outside the town. If you break free, you may ride with us.”

“How kind of you.” But my sarcasm seemed lost on her.

“And one other matter. Pytor.”

I swallowed. In our concern for Elryc, I’d almost forgotten.

“When you pry him from Margenthar’s grip, I will raise him, to finish the work your mother set me. If you are King, then here at the castle. Else, in my cottage.”

“Hester, you’re getting on in years …”

“Your word, prince. Or I’ll stay to find Pytor, and let Elryc look after himself.”

Protecting Elryc was my immediate task; I’d deal later with the complication of Pytor. I nodded. “My word.”

“Then go about your business, you two. I’ll demand my wages, tell the Duke I’m done with the House of Caledon. We’ll leave on the morrow.”

My lips were dry. “What of Elryc, tonight?”

“I’ll see to him.”

I protested, but she gave no ground. Eventually, tiring of my urging, she shooed us from the room, slammed the door in our faces.

We walked slowly down the stairs. I asked, “Can she-”

“Not another word about your imp-ridden housegirl!”

I gaped, but, finally understanding, kept shut until we’d reached my chamber. No guards were posted; at least I’d been spared that humiliation. Inside, I barred the door. I led him to my oaken wardrobe, stepped inside, slid shut the curtain. We’d be hot, but if we whispered, safe.

He asked, “Can Hester accomplish all that? Is her mind well?”

I shrugged; realized he couldn’t see me in the dark. “I’m not sure. What choice have we?”

“How will we get you out of Stryx?”

I wiped my damp forehead. “I’m not sure. We’ll figure a way.”

“And what when you return?”

Abruptly my voice was unsteady. “I face Uncle Mar.” He asked all the wrong questions.

Fingers felt for my shoulder, squeezed. “Have courage, my liege.”

I knocked away his hand. “I’ll be all right.” From somewhere, a scent of cinnamon mixed with the acrid aroma of my fear. “It’s an oven in here.” I threw open the curtain, climbed out into the welcome air. Curiously, I flicked a row of cloaks. “What was that spice? Did someone put a sachet in my clothes?”

Rustin blushed. “Chela gave me scented soap from the market. Is it too strong?”

“No.” Just unmanly. I took some comfort in that. Rustin was older, bigger, stronger; if it weren’t for his flaws I’d loathe him.

After the wardrobe, even my room had seemed cool, but the heat of the day rapidly asserted itself. Eventually we settled on the floor, cross-legged, and played listlessly at dice.

It was two hours before a knock came, during which I’d managed to lose three silver pence to my supposed friend.

Uncle Mar, with an armed henchman. “Fostrow, retire to the bench by the stairs; I’ll speak with my nephew alone.”

“Aye, sire.” The guard gave Rustin a dubious eye, departed.

Rust came to his feet, with courtesy. “Shall I leave you, my lord?”

“No need.” Mar sauntered into my room, glanced about, wrinkled his nose, but said nothing. He toyed with my slate, plucked it from its hook near the window.

I composed myself, waited.

“This matter of Elryc.” His glance flickered to mine, back to the slate. “If he’s been taken by some foe, my proclamation will neutralize his value to them. If he’s hiding for some boyish motive beyond our ken, this will flush him out.”

“By branding him traitor, you risk his life.”

“My prince, consider whether in fact he is not precisely such.” He set down the slate. “You are firstborn, therefore heir. Think how that makes him feel. But for the fluke of birth, he would enjoy the fruits of office, the riches, the honors, the majesty that will be yours.”

I shivered. Of whom was he speaking? Elryc … or himself?

“Remember what you said yourself. Elryc’s a calculating little soul, isn’t he? He may have left the castle entirely, to make union with an enemy, that they might secure your throne.”

“Uncle, you could put a stop to that, by having me crowned.”

“Which will be done. Didn’t I give you my word?” No, he had not, but he left me no time to answer. “Think you that a coronation guarantees a kingdom? The crown is more than that bauble that sits in the vault. A diadem won’t maintain a state.”

“If it’s so worthless, then give it-”

“Your crowning must be an affair of splendor, held when Caledon stands secure. Else it will seem-and be-a sham.” He took up the slate, licked his fingers, drew idly in the dust. “Tantroth comes.”

“What?” My voice came hoarse.

“Uncle Cumber sent scouts to probe the high passes. Tantroth of Eiber gathers his troops, and they take boats toward the bay.”

“He’s always holding maneuvers, of one sort or another.” I swallowed, nonetheless. The castle of Eiber stood secure in the Hadriad Mountains, but from the foothills, streams poured into the River Eibe, a wide road that chuckled its way to the sea. In a following wind, tall ships from Tantroth’s port could dash from Inlet Eibe down to Stryx in little more than a day.

“Tantroth’s always wanted our lands, Roddy. Now, it’s pressing that we know Elryc’s whereabouts. For the sake of Caledon, will you help?”

I shook my head. “I wish I could.”

Rustin stirred. “You have my oath, my lord, that Roddy has no idea where Elryc is headed. We spent the morning worrying over him, and gave it up.”

“So I see.” The Duke eyed our dice, smiled, again turned serious. “Roddy, I must ask you to stay close, until Tantroth’s intentions are known. You’re too valuable to risk, running about.”

“Even down the hill? There’s no danger in the market, or the inn, if-”

“Even so. Remain in the castle, where we can guard you. This must be.” To Rustin, “Help him pass the time. You’re welcome in Stryx Castle, son of Llewelyn.”

“Why, thank you, sire.” Rustin’s courtesy was such that even I couldn’t detect a hint of irony. “If my father permits, I’ll be happy to come. Perhaps I can shop at the docks for Roddy, bring him what trifles he would buy.”

“You see?” said Uncle Mar. “It all works out.” He crossed to the door. “You’ll know, the moment we find Elryc. In the meantime, be at ease.” A friendly nod, and he was gone.

I paced the room, while Rustin tossed dice to no purpose. “I shouldn’t have let that old witch take care of, um, the bundle for the night. If she fails, Uncle will have an unexpected gift.”

“The same as if you failed.”

“At least I can trust my judgment.” He snorted; I flicked him an annoyed glance. “Besides, it’s my promise.”

“Calm yourself.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” I paced anew.

“Try a bath. I’m serious; it will do you good in other respects.” Languidly, he got to his feet. “Who draws your water?”

“A footman, but I don’t have time. We have to plan.”

“Is there a bellpull?”

“Rustin, leave it be!” My face was hot with embarrassment. “I’m not a baby, to-”

“But you’ve had a lot of worry, you’ve been running about under that blazing sun, and I had to climb in the closet with you.”

To end the mortification, I let him persuade me. The water, I had to admit, was pleasantly cool. I began slowly to relax.

“What will happen to us, Rust?”

“We’ll settle Elr-the bundle with its, uh, keeper, and come back to Stryx.”

“What will Uncle do?” I was sure our absence would send him into paroxysms of rage.

“He won’t be happy.”

A stab of fear chilled me. “I want to dress.” I climbed to my knees.

“I’ll be with you, my prince.”

Why did I gulp back tears? I took slow, deep breaths, willed away my panic as I groped for a robe. “Will Llewelyn beat you again, if you leave with me?”

“I think not.” He turned me around, fastened my sash. Then, unexpectedly, he drew my face close, kissed me softly on the forehead.

I froze. He gave sort of an embarrassed cough, turned to the window, hands clasped behind him.

I dressed quickly, wishing Rust would leave, answering his queries with little more than grunts, hoping he’d sense my unease. But his conversation was so casual, so natural, that slowly I began to relax.

At any rate, we had pressing business. In low tones we planned our journey. Rustin would go home for the night, satisfy his father as to his forthcoming absence. He’d pack saddlebags with gear for the two of us, leave them at Llewelyn’s keep, come back to the castle to be with me when Hester took Elryc. I knew I could never face that spectacle alone; my nerves were already at the point of breaking.

We’d wait, until that evening or the next day, so as not to throw suspicion on Hester by our sudden absence. Then we’d gallop after.

On our trip I’d have to wear Rust’s hand-me-downs; I wasn’t sure whether I’d gain permission to ride a horse down the hill, or have somehow to jump the wall under the noses of the guards, and either way, I couldn’t carry about conspicuous changes of clothing.

As evening approached I grew ever more nervous. “Must you go?”

“It would be best.” His calm licked me like a mother cat her kitten.

“What if your father doesn’t let you return?”

“He will. I’ll explain in private, and humor his needs.”

Reluctantly, I let him leave. As an afterthought, I gave him my purse, with most of the year’s stipend Willem had given me. Best Rust should have it, lest I lose it to Mar’s guards.

“You trust me with your coin?”

I grimaced. “You already have the key-” He clapped his hand over my mouth. I gulped, nodded. Instead of releasing me, he squeezed my lips into a fish’s gawp. “Do demons have your mind? Think before you speak!”

I pushed his hand away, without rancor. “Yes, Father.” It was an odd thing to say. My father, Josip, had died when I was nine, and I’d been raised without. Until now, I’d not felt the lack.

“Hah. Were I your father, I’d set you across …” He shook his head. “Until tomorrow, my prince.” Impulsively, I squeezed his hand, brought it to my cheek. To my astonishment, his eyes teared, but he turned away before I could ask the matter.