Dragonfly (7 page)

"I'm sorry, Princess. I'm really, really sorry that this has happened," Ramil said sincerely.

Tashi turned her eyes on him briefly: he was staring at her. "Don't look at me," she said in a whiplash of a voice. The foreign Prince was seeing her without her robes of state, her hair uncovered; she felt practically naked.

"Isn't it enough that I'm suffering without you seeing me like this?"

Ramil looked away, unclasped his scarlet cloak and held it out to her.

"Take this. You must be cold."

Tashi took it warily from his hand, thinking this was all part of the plot and he was trying to win her over by his show of concern. But as she watched his face for some indication whether her guess was correct, some smug

expression or smile, she noticed that the Prince had a cut on his cheek, dried blood streaked on his skin. A doubt crept in. What if this was not some ill-judged plan of his? What if he was a victim too? That made their position far, far worse. There would be no

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grand rescue staged by the Prince to impress her, no triumphant return to the castle.

"I've got to know something, sir," Tashi began.

"I promise I'll tell you if I know the answer." Ramil was watching the tiger now that the Princess was out of bounds. The creature had eaten its fill, relieved its bladder in a powerful, stinking jet of urine, and now settled down to sleep. It seemed little bothered to be sharing its cage with two humans.

"Are you really not responsible for this? Swear on all that you hold sacred that you are not."

Ramil put his fist to his chest. "I swear on my mother's good name that I knew nothing of the abduction. But what about you? I thought at first that you had organized it."

"Me!" Tashi exclaimed. "What could I possibly gain from arranging for you to be ... to be caged?"

Ramil shrugged. "Revenge. Satisfaction for insults. I don't know--maybe you just find it funny."

Tashi looked horrified at the suggestion.

"It's all right, Your Highness, I do not need you to swear your innocence to me. I will not accuse the Blue Crescent Islands of an act of war. I have a higher opinion of your honor than you do of mine. No, I think responsibility lies elsewhere: we share a common enemy." Ramil lay back on the straw and closed his eyes. "Either that, or it's a joke in desperately bad taste by my friends to throw us together."

"You think this is possible?" asked Tashi, bewildered.

Ramil sighed. "No, that last suggestion was a joke of

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my own." Was he never going to find the right note of conversation for this girl? She took everything so seriously.

Then again, she is shut in a tiger's cage with you. Perhaps your joke was ill
timed,
grumbled his more regal side.

King Lagan spent the day in a pleasantly optimistic mood. Ramil had galloped off with his young guest and not returned--a sign that they must be getting on well enough to prolong the ride. He couldn't imagine Princess Taoshira staying more than a polite hour if she were not enjoying herself.

Walking through the corridors of his palace, Lagan began to whistle. He was remembering his own rides with Ramil's mother, Zarai, when he was that age. The forest had been magical, allowing them intimacy and informality away from the rigors of court life. It was a place where two young royals could remember that they were also girl and boy. There had been a

particularly comfortable bank of moss near the stream. He rather hoped Ramil had found it.

As evening approached, the chamberlain sought an audience with the King.

"Your Majesty, the Blue Crescent delegation is concerned that the Princess has not yet returned."

Lagan looked up from his pile of state papers. "Can they allow the child no privacy?"

The chamberlain decided not to answer that question.

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"It appears she has to fulfill an important religious ceremony every evening and her absence is regarded as most inauspicious."

Lagan threw aside his pen. "Inauspicious, eh? Well, perhaps we'd better send out the guard with some torches to search for them. Tell the delegation not to worry. I expect they got a little lost or forgot the time. Let me know when they get back." Lagan rather liked the idea of challenging the little Princess about her tardiness to see if he could raise a blush under all that silly white paint.

The guard returned at midnight, having found no trace of either Ramil or the Crown Princess. Lagan was forced to revise his opinion that their absence was innocent. He had a creeping conviction that his son had done

something extremely stupid. First time out of the castle: had Ramil bolted?

But then what of the Princess? Surely he would have returned her safely. It was common courtesy to do so. Ramil may have many faults, but Lagan did not think lack of chivalry to a lady in his charge was one of them.

He summoned the Blue Crescent delegation to the White Stone Council Chamber so it could witness and participate in the efforts to discover the young people. The Islanders sat ranged on the far side of the table from his ministers, their hostility and suspicion like a blistering heat in the room.

Lagan realized that they put the fault for whatever had happened squarely on the Prince's shoulders. He could hardly blame them; his son had done nothing to inspire their confidence,

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quite the contrary. Whatever the truth, it was the responsibility of Gerfal to sort it out.

The Chief Warden of the Forest was also present. He reported that the young Prince and Princess had been seen galloping into the forest that morning but his wardens had kept aloof as ordered. No one had noticed them after that.

"Why did no guard accompany the Princess?" snapped the senior priest in the Blue Crescent delegation.

Lagan wondered if he could explain to this hard-boiled old man the idea of a romantic ride for two under the greenwood boughs. He decided not to attempt it.

"Prince Ramil does not habitually take a guard when riding in the forest." Not least because no guard could keep up with him when he was in the saddle.

"He was following usual practice. The perimeter of the forest is patrolled by wardens and my own soldiers. It has always been regarded as safe

anywhere within five miles of Falburg."

" 'Usual practice'--'always regarded'--it appears to us that Your Majesty's judgment has been proved in error, "cut in the Etiquette Mistress, snapping her fan shut.

Lagan ignored the slight to his wisdom. "Such are our customs, madam.

However, this is getting us nowhere. We must send out all available men. I want the Royal Forest searched all the way to the mountain passes. Every village, every traveller, every cave, den or hiding place is to be examined."

He turned to the delegation. "Would you like to send your own men to participate?"

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The chief priest nodded. "I have five hundred sailors awaiting my orders."

"Good. Send them to the chief warden here and he will distribute them among the teams."

The council meeting broke up. Lagan retired to his private room and filled a wine glass with a shaking hand. He was hoping that his son had proved honorable and that none of this was his fault. Desertion now, coupled with losing the Princess, would mean war with Taoshira's people--there was no doubt about it. Twenty Crescent ships were in possession of his main harbor, in a prime position to bombard the city and destroy the capital. But if his hope proved to be correct, then that meant Ramil was detained against his will. His son was in danger.

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Many hours after nightfall, the door of the cage was opened and a tiny man appeared with a lantern. "You're to get out now if you want food and a wash," he announced in a squeaky voice.

With a glance at each other, Tashi and Ramil got up. The Prince jumped down first, then offered his hand to help Tashi to the ground. She let go quickly, wrapping his cloak more securely around her shoulders as she surveyed the scene before them.

An odd collection of some twenty people were eating a late supper around the campfire. A giant of a man with a big bushy beard was playing cards with three wiry-looking individuals; acrobats, Tashi guessed. An old woman sat by the pot, her hair in long grey ringlets. She had a scarlet scarf tied around her middle and gold rings in her ears. Her clothes were ancient and patched but she was in possession of a fine pair of new boots. Tashi's boots.

Sensing the Princess's scrutiny, the old woman gave her an implacable stare. She then tapped her pipe

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on the heel of her left boot and chuckled. Tashi dropped her gaze to her own bare feet.

A handsome man with long dark sideburns strode forward. He had a fur cape thrown carelessly over one shoulder, brilliant red tunic, and knee-length brown boots that had seen better days. Tashi glanced resentfully at Prince Ramil's footwear and wondered why he was still in ownership of them when hers had been taken.

"Prince Ramil, it is an honor to welcome you to our fireside," declared the man with a flourishing bow, ignoring Tashi. "I apologize for the abruptness of our invitation but my master said we were to bring you with all speed."

Ramil tapped his hands angrily by his sides. The man had a Brigardian accent and had already revealed that he knew full well who his prisoner was. Any hope that this was a mistake was extinguished.

"You will be hanged for your actions unless you release the Princess and myself immediately," Ramil said curtly.

The man put his hand to his brow. "It pains me to refuse a royal command but I am acting under orders from my superior. For the moment, I suggest you make the best of it and join me by the fire. You must be hungry--thirsty too, I expect. Come. It will be necessary to return you to your less than luxurious quarters in a short while, so make the most of this brief reprieve."

Seeing the sense of this, Ramil turned to allow the Princess to precede him to the fire. In the light, he saw

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for the first time that she had the most striking mane of long fair hair.

"Oh no, not her," the man said, taking a step to separate them. "I do not allow Western demons to sit with my people. She can eat on her own."

"Then I eat with her," announced Ramil, roused to anger on the Princess's behalf.

"No, you dine with me." The man produced a knife and felt its edge, drawing blood on his thumb. "A Gerfalian prince is a worthy companion but a Blue Crescent woman is hardly human. They feel nothing, have you not noticed?"

He waved at Tashi. "See, she says nothing--does nothing. We took her robes and she did not complain. We threw her in with Kosind and she did not scream. It's unnatural. Leave her."

The man hooked the Prince's arm in his and began to drag him away.

"I will stay with the Princess!" Ramil struggled to free himself.

Tashi turned her back on the fire, feeling so weary of these Easterners. She hardly cared for the man's insults. How could such a one understand her?

There was no need for the Prince to risk injury on her behalf. In any case, she preferred to eat alone.

"Go with him, Prince Ramil. I am content."

Tashi sat cross-legged on the ground, too far from the campfire to benefit from its warmth. Looking up at the stars, she realized how late it was and she had not yet said the evening service. The Mother would understand but Tashi knew she should delay no longer.

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Preparing herself, she rose to her knees and began quietly to say the words, miming the action of the ringing bell as none was available. At first, no one noticed her humble ceremony, but then the little man who had fetched them from their prison came over with a bowl of food. He put it down but she continued without a pause, her hands sketching circles in the air before her.

This amused him so he fetched some of his friends from the fireside: the strong man, Gordoc, and the tiger tamer, Pashvin. The tamer prodded Tashi with his whip but she did not break off her prayer.

"See, it's as Orboyd says, less than human." Pashvin chuckled, sitting down to watch.

The big man leant forward and fingered a strand of Tashi's long blonde hair.

"Pretty color," he murmured.

"See if you can make her squeal," suggested Tighe, the dwarf.

Gordoc grinned and put his mouth to the Princess's ear. "Boo!" he whispered.

Tashi closed her eyes. These men were no more than flies buzzing in a room, beneath her regard. She had to complete the last prayer or her people would suffer.

Pashvin lifted the heavy hank of hair from her back and blew on her neck.

Getting no response, he let go and shrugged.

"She's no flesh and blood woman," he concluded.

Tashi came to the final blessing, giving the response that usually fell to her attendants. "As the Goddess wills."

It was at that moment that Gordoc decided to stroke

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her hair. Tashi emerged from her prayer to feel a large hand on the back of her head. Without thinking, she swung round and slapped the big man hard on the side of his face, then jumped up and stalked away. Pashvin rolled around on the floor, howling with laughter.

"Maybe she's . . . half human," he said through gasps.

Gordoc set off in pursuit. "Aw, come back, my pretty one, I meant no harm."

The altercation caught the attention of Ramil, Orboyd, and the others by the fireside. Seeing Tashi pursued by the giant man, the Prince leapt up. Swiftly, Orboyd kicked Ramil's feet from under him and shifted the grip on his knife to prick him in the ribs.

"Settle down. He won't harm her. Let him have his fun," Orboyd ordered.

Ramil tried to get up a second time but the circus leader kicked him back again with an exasperated sigh.

"Anyway, why should you care? It was no secret that you didn't want her.

You've no liking for these Blue Crescent women any more than I have. I wager neither of us would say no to a handsome Eastern girl, but these fair-haired witches don't please a man."

Ramil rolled onto his knees.

"But I can't let you treat her like that. She's my guest. Any insult to her is an insult to the ac Burinholt royal family!"