Daughter of the Disgraced King (28 page)

“Hmm.” Mayra decided to let that pass without further
comment. Reminding him that he’d done precisely that wouldn’t help matters
right now. “That’s not the way my older brothers behave if they even just
like
a girl.” She grinned briefly. “Kind of refreshing, actually. So what is it
about Ailsa that made you decide that you love her? I know she’s beautiful. And
smart. A lot of girls are. So what’s special about Ailsa for you?” She almost
held her breath as she waited for the answer.

Savyon was quiet for a long time. “It’s her . . . her calm.
The way she makes
me
feel calm, even in a crowd.” He looked up and
grinned sheepishly. “I’m not very comfortable in crowds. Ailsa made it easier.
So do you.”

“Hmm. That doesn’t seem like quite enough for a life
together. Or even unique. What else?”

Savyon looked down at his hands. “I don’t know. I just feel
good when I’m with her. Sometimes it seems like every other girl in Far Terra
wants to trap me, like some kind of wild animal. Half the time, my father is
pushing me back toward the traps. Ailsa’s not like that.” He looked up. “I
guess that sounds pretty shallow.”

Mayra smiled. “I actually understand that one. I have
something of a similar problem, you know. Except that Father isn’t pushing me.”
Her smile faded a little. “Yet. Sometimes I think he just hasn’t worked his way
down to me. Artair’s betrothal is settled, though I think he and Lara suit each
other very well. It’s not like Father had to force him. I think Rish has taken
the hint and started scouting for himself. All those diplomatic visits for
Father give him ample opportunity.” One side of her mouth turned up more than
the other. “Arrigo is going to pose a particular problem, I think.”

Savyon huffed a laugh at that.

“On the whole, I think I’d prefer to follow Jathan’s example
and find my own match before Father gets around to planning for me.” Mayra
leaned back on her bench and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “So, to
boil it down, it sounds like you like Ailsa, her presence helps make your
duties as prince more palatable, and you’re comfortable with her. That’s not a
bad basis for a royal marriage, I guess. But it’s not exactly hopeless love,
either. I think, for example, Jathan would be a lot more eloquent if I asked
him why he loves Ailsa.”

Savyon clasped his hands between his knees. “But I
need
Ailsa.”

Mayra’s eyes narrowed. “No, you don’t. You need someone who
can do the same things for you that Ailsa can. Love—the real thing—would be a
bonus, all ‘round. But Ailsa can’t possibly be the only girl out there who
could be the kind of helpmeet you’ll need. Possibly, not even the best, all
things considered. Even if you could get her back, which I very much doubt. I
think it’s time you resigned yourself to looking a little farther afield.”

Savyon hunched slightly. “You’re the only other girl I feel
really comfortable with.”

Mayra suppressed a much wider smile down to a mere lip
twitch. “Well, that’s a start. Why don’t we go back and dance some more?”

~

Savyon looked across at Mayra and his shoulders sagged. He
couldn’t really argue with her reasoning. He hadn’t treated Ailsa as if he
loved her for
her.
“I’m not even a very good dancer. Why do you bother
with me?”

Mayra shook her head. “Actually, once you relax a little,
you’re not a bad dancer at all. Arrigo is much worse.”

Savyon chuckled at that. He’d never had the opportunity to
watch Arrigo dance, but he could imagine it—all bounce and movement with very
little finesse. Probably even he wouldn’t look so awkward next to Arrigo.

He stood up and offered his arm to Mayra. They climbed the
short flight of steps up to the balcony. As they arrived at the archway, Perion
danced by with Lady Aleonor. Odd, now that he thought about it. That last ball
in Far Terra, when he’d been planning to propose, he hadn’t been as disturbed
by all the barons’ sons who’d wanted to dance with Ailsa as he had been by
seeing Mayra dance with Perion. Savyon paused in mid-step.
When had he
gotten jealous of Mayra?
The full import of that struck him.
Oh.

Mayra looked up at him. “Sav?”

Savyon drew in a deep breath and looked down at her. Really
looked. “Mayra. I’ve been an idiot. Will you forgive me and . . . and allow me
to start over?”

Mayra smiled. “Gladly.”

Ailsa wasn’t too disappointed to find that the next phase of
their plan was delayed the following morning. They were supposed to go out to
Papa’s estates to create a showcase of just what two powerful green mages,
assisted by a water mage like Aunt Izbel, could really do. A monument to serve
as a reminder while Ailsa and Jathan were safely back in Terranion.

Papa’s estates were just on the edge of the Far Terran
heartland, right where most of the barons would pass by them on their way to
and from the capitol. They wouldn’t actually have to cross the desert. Still,
Ailsa was just as glad to let Jathan have a little more rest before working
more magic. Last night had been more than she really thought he should do so
soon, but there hadn’t been any way to avoid that.

The trip was postponed by an overwhelming succession of
visits by barons. Most of them had never visited their home in Ailsa’s memory.
Now, all of a sudden, they couldn’t be friendly enough, though it was obvious
what they most wanted was to make sure that they were on Ailsa’s and Jathan’s
list of future customers.

Ailsa and Jathan met with them in the garden.
On our
turf,
Ailsa couldn’t help thinking. For some, the ones Papa or Mama
identified as likely to be the best to work with, she allowed a small amount of
magic to leak out—opening a bloom here or accelerating growth there.

“I suppose we should have foreseen this,” Papa said during a
brief lull. “At least it seems you did make quite an impression on them.”

Jathan grabbed her hand. “That we did. And you seem to have
gotten over your terror of being the center of attention, Ailsa.”

Ailsa shrugged. “I guess I can handle it—for the right
cause.” She grinned. “I have to admit. Last night was kind of fun. Maybe you’re
rubbing off on me.”

Jathan laughed at that.

“We’ll plan to get an early start tomorrow. You still need
to leave a lasting statement to remind the barons what you have to offer them.”

Jathan’s smile glinted mischievously. “Those holly trees
aren’t going anywhere. They’ll be reminded every time King Ewart holds a ball
in that room.” He subsided at Papa’s glare. “But you’re right. We should leave
something a little more constructive for them to ponder over, too.”

Ailsa was a lot less comfortable when Baron Mikel came
through to the garden to pay his respects.

He bowed, somewhat grudgingly she thought, more to Jathan
than to her. “I’m somewhat surprised to find you both here.”

“Where else would we be?” Ailsa asked coldly.

Baron Mikel’s smile was more like baring his teeth. “Why,
from your talk last night, I would have thought you’d be eager to be out using
your magic for the good of Far Terra.”

“Haven’t you ever heard of the concept of a day of rest?”
Ailsa asked. “Or is it just that you don’t believe
mages
deserve a rest
now and then?”

Baron Mikel’s smiled thinned noticeably.

“In point of fact,” Papa interrupted. “That’s precisely what
they would be doing—on my estates—if we hadn’t been delayed by a number of your
colleagues.”

“Ah,” Baron Mikel sighed. “I’m relieved to hear that. When I
saw the signs that you were prepared to travel, I was worried that Ailsa and
Prince Jathan would be leaving us so soon. Glad to hear you’re not headed all
the way across the desert yet. It’s so hard on certain mages—or so I’ve been
told.”

Ailsa shrugged casually. “It didn’t seem that bad to me.”
She wasn’t about to tell Baron Mikel how hard it had been for Jathan.

Baron Mikel turned directly to her. “So, how long will you
be at your father’s estates? I might have to make an opportunity to see you
work again.”

“Several days,” Papa answered, eyes narrowed. “The exact
schedule is still flexible at this point.”

“Ah. I’d better make my opportunity sooner rather than
later, then. I’ll take my leave now and let you get back to your preparations.”
Baron Mikel bowed slightly to the company in general and left.

Ailsa let out her breath explosively. “What was that all
about? I don’t trust him.”

Papa shook his head. “Neither do I. Not for a moment.” He
turned from watching the doorway where Baron Mikel had disappeared and drew in
a breath. “Jathan, I think I need to ask you to go talk to your brothers. Tell
them we’ll be leaving
early
tomorrow morning. And we’ll be wanting a
guard, just in case.”

Jathan sprang up from his chair. “Right away.”

Papa caught his arm as Jathan started for the door. “Not
that way. The back way, through the garden. Ailsa can show you.”

Ailsa took Jathan’s hand. “I’ll do better. I’ll go with him.”

Papa’s eyes narrowed again. “No. I don’t think that would be
a good idea. Show him where to get over the wall and tell him how to get to the
east entrance.”

“What are you worried about, Papa?”

“I don’t know. But Baron Mikel and King Ewart are thick as
thieves. Best to go wide around both of them for now.”

Ailsa nodded understanding of that. “In that case, send Rog
by the same route with a message for Rish. Someone’s likely to wonder why
Jathan is sneaking around. They’re used to seeing Rog carrying messages, so no
one will bat an eye.”

“Who’s Rog?” Jathan asked.

“He’s the son of Papa’s steward. I used to slip him a few
coins to carry messages to Sav or Cergio—or Perion—when we were younger and
trying to set up an outing the adults hadn’t exactly said was allowed. If Rish
can find him, Etan would be the one to carry messages back this way. He works
in the stables.”

On side of Papa’s mouth quirked up. “I knew you had someone
to carry messages for you. I didn’t know who.” He rang the bell and sent for
Rog.

~

With Papa hurrying them along, they were well on their way
an hour before dawn. As the sun came up, Ailsa breathed out a sigh of relief,
sure that they’d gotten clean away and would be at Papa’s estates before anyone
knew they’d left the capitol.

Then she noticed that Captain Damek kept looking over to the
low rise on their left. She followed his gaze. A single rider watched them from
the top of the hill. Odd. Anyone up and about at this ungodly time of day ought
to be too busy about their own business to stop and watch them pass. She drew
in her breath sharply. Unless watching them
was
his business. Watching
and reporting back to . . . who? Baron Mikel? King Ewart himself? And for what
purpose?

She pushed Pearl to a place a little closer to the dozen
guards Arrigo had assigned them. Without questioning her, Jathan maintained his
place at her side. At Captain Damek’s gesture, the guards closed in, keeping the
group together.

“What’s up?” Jathan asked, noticing the change.

“Someone’s watching us,” Ailsa replied in a low voice.
Though, really, there was no way the lone rider, whoever he was, could possibly
hear her.

“So?”

“So, at this hour, normal people are either still eating
their breakfast or hurrying to finish up whatever chore is keeping them from
it.”

Jathan turned to look up the hill. “Ah. Want to place a bet
on whether he belongs to the king or that slithery baron who visited us
yesterday?”

Ailsa shook her head. “No. Could be either. Or somebody else
altogether. The only bet I’ll place is that it’s not intended as a friendly
gesture.”

“No takers on that one.” Jathan’s smile glinted
mischievously. “Unless you want to wager a kiss, that is.”

Ailsa smiled and shook her head. “How would we know who won?”

“Why would it matter?”

“Keep up, you two,” Papa said. “We’ll be safe when we get to
the estates, but we’re exposed here.”

Ailsa would have been more reassured if she hadn’t overheard
Captain Damek add to himself, “Until we want to leave again, anyway.”

~

Ailsa’s fingers fairly itched to get to work as Aunt Izbel
led them out to look over the sites she’d selected for their work.

The first site was a woodlot Ailsa remembered fondly as one
of her favorite childhood playgrounds. Ailsa let her magic reach out to the
young trees. They were growing well, healthy but for a minor infestation of
leaf-curlers, which she and Jathan could address in the same way they had the
rose garden aphids. It’d be the work of a couple of hours. “What little this
needs wouldn’t be much of showcase.”

“Ah,” Aunt Izbel said. “There’s water underground just here.
Not very far underground, either. If you could funnel your green magic to me, I
could bring it up in a spring. The water would drain off over that way,” she
gestured downhill, “in a little stream. Probably form a small pond in that
hollow. Then it’d be up to you two to bring out appropriate vegetation.”

Ailsa could see it. A singing little creek, bordered by
berry bushes. She knew just where they could get the cuttings. And a few lilies
for the pond, too. She even imagined a family of ducks paddling around the
pond. It would be both beautiful and productive.

“It’s near the road, too,” Aunt Izbel went on. “So it’ll be
easy for the other barons to see as they ride past.”

Ailsa grinned. “I like it.”

Papa’s brow furrowed. “Do you think it’ll be enough of a
testimonial to your
green
magic?”

“When we’re done. What we can do along the banks of the
stream and around the pond, yes,” Jathan said. “Definitely.”

“Plus, the water will impress the barons almost as much as
the plants,” Ailsa added.

Jathan swung out of the saddle of his horse. “Let’s get
started.”

For the first part of the task, bringing the water out of
the ground, they stood close together. Necessarily, Aunt Izbel must lead this
circle because she was the only water mage. But Aunt Izbel was also the weakest
mage of the three of them. Ailsa held back and only released a portion of her magic
to her aunt. She could feel the same restraint from Jathan.

It was actually pretty boring, since she couldn’t follow
what Aunt Izbel was doing with the magic they gave her. Well, then, this part
obviously required no concentration on their part, other than to feed a bit of
magic to Aunt Izbel. “I think we could do more than one thing here. Jathan and
I could also address the infestation of leaf-curlers at the same time. That
way, we’d be less likely to feed Aunt Izbel more magic than she can handle.”

“Great idea!” Jathan said. “You stay here, where you can
make sure we don’t overload Princess Izbel. I’ll go around to the other side.”

Ailsa smiled. Obviously, Jathan had been at least as bored
as she was. “All right.”

Aunt Izbel nodded, keeping her concentration on the water
she was slowly drawing to the surface.

Ailsa waited until she was reasonably sure Jathan had
reached a position opposite her and then she let her magic rise. She continued
to send a trickle to Aunt Izbel, but most of her magic reached across the
grove, boosting the natural defenses of the young trees. It was easier, this
way, to keep from overloading the water mage. Jathan’s magic joined hers like a
caress. Ailsa drew a deep breath and reveled in the exultation of their
combined magic. She floated in a little bubble of bliss, working with Jathan.
This
is what she wanted to do for the rest of her life.

With no warning, Jathan’s magic just . . . stopped flowing
to her. What—?

~

Jathan almost lost himself to the euphoria of working green
magic with Ailsa again. It had been too long since they’d done sustained work
together like this. With Ailsa feeding a portion of their magic through to
Princess Izbel, for him it was almost like working with her alone, like they’d
done over the burned area. Intoxicating. The tingling touch of her magic was
almost erotic.

He couldn’t help grinning. They’d be working like this for
the rest of their lives—if you called this delight work. Even Far Terra wasn’t
nearly as bad as he’d expected. Once you got here, anyway. Well, the crossing
would only be a couple of times a year. If that was the worst, their lives
would truly be blessed.

He was jerked back to reality by a pair of hands gripping
him from behind, forcing his arms tight to his sides. Being one of four
brothers, Jathan reacted instinctively. His magic recoiled back to him. He
lowered his head and drove his hip backward at the same time he twisted his
upper body hard to the side. The grip loosened.

Jathan tucked into the twist, breaking free. He rolled as
the movement took him to the ground and came up facing his opponent. Opponents.
There were three of them. And a nasty looking lot they were, too. This wasn’t
going to be like wrestling with Arrigo or Rish. On the other hand, he didn’t
have to fight them alone—or fight fair, for that matter.

Jathan retreated into the copse and brought his magic back
up around him. At the same time, he filled his lungs to shout. Captain Damek
and his troops were just on the other side of the trees. His shout was lost in
an uproar from the far side of the woodlot. Jathan’s lips thinned and his heart
sped up. Either Captain Damek and his troops were already aware of the attack or
. . . or there were others of these thugs going after Ailsa. That thought was
like fire in Jathan’s chest. He needed to deal with these ruffians quickly and
get across to protect Ailsa.