Reader and Raelynx (16 page)

He said nothing.

“Exactly. That’s the sort of behavior that creates a certain—emotional intimacy. Yes, you have to attend Amalie when she requests it. No, you certainly don’t want to make your liege angry. But you appear to be on the road to becoming Amalie’s primary confidante. And that is a very tricky road.”

“How stupid do you think I am?” he burst out. “Do you think I’m crazy enough to think that—that—Amalie could fall in love with me? It didn’t even cross my mind till Valri said it! I
still
don’t think it’s possible! But if you keep going on about it—”

“Cammon. You’re a delightful young man and all of your friends love you very much. But it has always been clear that you don’t really have a sense of boundaries. You’ve always treated everyone as your equal. And that just won’t do when it comes to Amalie. You simply can’t be yourself around the princess. You have to be someone else.”

He shrugged and looked away. She didn’t have to hear the thought in his head to know what he was thinking.
I don’t know how to be anyone else.
“I’ll try,” he said. “But I think you’re all overreacting just a little.”

“No more secret silent conversations with the princess?”

“All right.”

“And no more long days spent roaming the palace grounds with no one to supervise you?”

“I can’t imagine Valri would let that happen, anyway.”

“That didn’t sound like a promise.”

“All
right.
”

She climbed to her feet and he scrambled up beside her. “You’ll have a chance to prove just how good you can be when I’m not watching over you,” she said. “I’m leaving for Carrebos in a couple of days. And taking Tayse and Kirra and Donnal as well.”

He frowned. “But Justin just got back!”

She was amused. “And how does that have anything to do with this trip?”

“Well, because! We haven’t even been together for two weeks!”

Now she was laughing. “I thought sure you’d be relieved to see me go.”

He grinned. “I am, of course. I was trying to conceal it.”

She laughed, too, and they left the cabin together in perfect amity. But later she thought over this part of the conversation and wondered if she had been duped. True, Cammon was never so happy as when the six of them—the seven of them—were together. And true, for Cammon, a period of ten or fourteen days was not enough time to satisfy his craving for that close connection.

He had showed distress at the thought that four of them were leaving. But had the emotion been genuine? Or had Cammon—the most artless person she’d ever met—had Cammon learned to lie?

C
AMMON
was miserable for a whole week. Everyone was angry at him, and then everyone was
gone
, and if Justin and Ellynor hadn’t been around he would have felt completely lost.

Nominally, he was back on good terms with both Valri and Amalie, and he joined them a couple of mornings in the parlor. But Valri watched him with a darkling expression and—at least for those first two days—Amalie treated him with a brittle coolness. He was tempted more than once to renew his silent diatribes, and now and then he caught a look on her face that made him think she was puzzled that he had not.

But he had promised Senneth that he would be good, and he had decided he would at least
try
to keep his promise. So he was friendly but not intrusive, ran errands when Amalie asked, played card games with the princess and the queen, and was generally unhappy.

He had told Tayse that Amalie wanted to get to know the Riders better, which Tayse thought was a very good idea. The best parts of that week came as the Riders arrived by ones and twos to visit with Amalie. The older ones, like Tir and Hammond, were respectful but hardly loquacious and tended not to stay long. The younger ones were a little more cocky, a little more talkative, and just as curious about the princess as she was about them.

“I’ve never handled a sword,” Amalie confessed when Wen came calling. She was accompanied by Janni, a compact, dark-haired, and infectiously happy young Rider who was Wen’s best friend. “Not even a knife, except a dinner knife.”

Janni’s dagger was in her hand even though she scarcely appeared to move. “Well,
that
we ought to do something about! It’s good for everyone to know how to handle a weapon. You never know when you might be required to defend yourself.”

Amalie’s eyes sparkled. “I agree! What can you show me?”

Cammon glanced at Valri, thinking the queen might not endorse the notion of royalty receiving weapons training, but Valri’s face was inscrutable. Janni and Wen gathered around the princess, let her hold their various blades, explained the basic mechanics of edge and weight and reach.

Wen stepped back and eyed Amalie’s clothing with disfavor. “You can’t really fight when you’re wearing a gown,” she said. “You see how we’re dressed? In trousers and boots? Anything else just gets in the way.”

“I don’t think anyone would find such attire appropriate for me,” Amalie said.

Janni shrugged. “Well, just for an afternoon, maybe. We could come back and show you a few fencing moves.”

Amalie was instantly taken with the notion. “Yes! What a wonderful idea! Valri, you don’t disapprove, do you?”

Valri shook her head. “No, I think it’s a good idea. Not tomorrow, perhaps, because we have a visitor coming, but after that.”

“And you ought to have a knife,” Wen said. “Something you always carry.”

“Sleep with it,” Janni said. “I do.”

Amalie laughed and gestured down at her skirts. “A weapons belt and a scabbard would look very odd with most of my dresses.”

“You need a sheath you can buckle onto your leg,” Wen said. “Under your clothes. Thigh or calf. I prefer to have my spare knife right above my ankle, but if you’re wearing a dress, it’s more likely to be seen.”

Amalie’s lips parted; Cammon could see she absolutely loved this idea. “Could I wear it while I was dancing?”

“You’d probably have to practice a little so you were used to the way it felt—make sure the buckle didn’t rub against your other leg,” Janni said. “But once you’ve worn it for a while, you’ll forget it’s there.”

“And you’ll feel strange when you’re
not
wearing it,” Wen added.

“Where can I get a sheath like this? And a knife? I mean a real weapon.”

Wen was grinning. “There’re all sorts of spare blades down by the training yard. We’ll go through the lot and bring up something good for you.” She lifted her hand and spread her fingers. “Here. Show me how big your hand is.” Amalie laid her palm against the Rider’s and Wen nodded. “All right. I’ll find something that’ll suit you.”

So, that was enjoyable, but those hours were too brief, and some days Valri banished him from the room altogether. Cammon found himself completely at loose ends, particularly once Senneth, Tayse, Kirra, and Donnal rode out. Senneth and Tayse promised to be back in about two weeks, but Cammon felt adrift and abandoned the very first day. If he hadn’t been pledged to watch Amalie, he would have insisted on riding out to visit the village of mystics. What could be more fascinating? And wouldn’t Cammon be valuable as they met a whole town of people with unpredictable and wondrous powers?

But no. He must remain in Ghosenhall to guard the princess.

Which he would have been more than happy to do if the princess had seemed to care at all that he had stayed behind to serve her.

On days Cammon wasn’t needed at all, he hiked into the city to spend time with Jerril. They practiced more tricks to build up mental strength, and these were so exhausting that those nights Cammon tumbled into bed and slept without dreaming. Or maybe he’d been tired out by the labor, since he spent some time chopping wood and clearing out the garden and doing the heavier chores that really required a young body and a strong back. Lynnette fussed over him, making his favorite meals and trimming his hair, which, of course, looked ragged again. Areel drew him aside one day and quizzed him on some of the objects that had been making their way to the palace—jewels and vases and small polished tables—all gifts to Amalie from her various suitors.

“Well, I can take you to the palace someday if you just want to walk around and see things,” Cammon offered, and Areel looked as if he’d been offered a gift directly from the Bright Mother herself.

So the next day, Cammon gave him a tour of some of the areas of the palace that weren’t generally open to guests, though Milo watched them closely to make sure they didn’t disturb anything. Areel seemed more than ordinarily dazed, pausing now and then to lay his hand on a marble bowl or a wooden frame and closing his eyes as if the sensation was almost too great to bear. When Cammon took him home, the old mystic staggered as if he was drunk, but he glowed with glutted satisfaction, so Cammon knew he had enjoyed the outing.

In the evenings, there were invariably guests at the palace, so Cammon always stood watch over the meals. No one showed any inclination to attack the king, and Amalie never summoned Cammon to her side to send him on manufactured errands. Nor did he engage in one-sided debates with her, or make any special effort to communicate. All in all, the meals were long and dull, as the days were long and dull, and life in general was pointless and miserable.

By contrast, the late evenings spent with Ellynor and Justin were a balm to his soul. Justin, who could be so wary and abrasive, was utterly relaxed around Ellynor, even expansive. Ellynor herself was a restful woman, Cammon thought—usually engaged in some small task, but in a serene, methodical way. She often seemed lost in her own thoughts, but always had a smile ready for him and would gladly answer his hundreds of questions about life across the Lireth Mountains.

“You miss it,” he said to her once, and she nodded and then she shook her head.

“I miss my family, but I’m happy to be away from them, too,” she said. “They’re very protective! And I’m too curious about the rest of the world. I spent the past two days in Ghosenhall, just wandering around with my mouth hanging open. What a beautiful city! I love being here—and that makes it easier not to miss my family.”

“I’ve told her she needs to go visit one of the Twelve Houses,” Justin said. “If she wants to see wealth and opulence.”

“How much time have you spent with the queen?” Cammon asked her.

“A few hours here and there. I think she’s more homesick than I am.”

“How well did you know her?”

Ellynor glanced at Justin and clearly decided not to say something. “Well enough. She wasn’t born to my
sebahta-ris
, but her family had always been on good terms with mine. If there had been a clan war, our
sebahtas
would have been allies.”

Obviously there was more to this story and obviously she wasn’t going to tell it. “Well, I’m sure she’s happy you’re here,” he said.

In fact, a few days later, Valri got a chance to be extremely grateful for Ellynor’s presence. Cammon arrived at the cottage to find Justin alone and Ellynor up at the palace, tending the queen through a nasty stomach ailment.

“So, we’re on our own,” Justin said. “Want to go into town and get a drink?”

They had more than one drink, as it turned out, at more than one tavern, and enjoyed themselves hugely. Justin wasn’t wearing Rider regalia, but all the barkeepers made it a point to recognize the king’s most elite fighters, and they weren’t allowed to pay for a beer all night. No fewer than five women approached Justin before the evening was over, hinting in ways that ranged from subtle to blatant that they thought the Rider was enormously attractive. Justin, of course, was oblivious.

“What do you mean you didn’t
notice
what she was wearing?” Cammon asked in disbelief. “I watched her unlace the front of her gown before she came over to talk to you!”

“She was wearing a moonstone bracelet. I noticed
that
,” Justin said. “And her hands were too soft, no calluses, so I’m pretty sure she hasn’t been handling any weapons lately. She was short, heavyset, probably easy to put down in a fight. What else am I supposed to notice?”

Cammon laughed into his beer. “It’s a mystery to me how you ever managed to realize Ellynor was in the world.”

Justin grinned. “Well, I got into a brawl on her behalf. You know me. If it involves fighting, I’m more likely to pay attention.” He sipped from his glass. “But feel free to make friends with any of these women who are coming up to the table. Maybe they’re really coming over to talk to
you.
”

“I don’t think so.”

“Senneth says you’re lovesick over the princess,” Justin said with his customary lack of tact.

“Oh, so now she wants
you
to lecture me while she’s gone?”

Justin shook his head. “I’m just wondering if it’s true.”

Cammon used his fingernail to pick at a drop of gravy crusted on the table. “We’re a lot alike.”

“You and the
princess
?”

“We are. We grew up lonely. We’re happiest when there are people around us—some activity going on. You know I hate to be by myself. So does she, except there’s no one she can make friends with, so she
is
by herself a lot of the time. It makes me want to—It just makes me want to spend time with her. Chase away the loneliness.”

Justin nodded. “You could probably do that, you know, despite what Senneth says. You could be her friend. Maybe she’d turn you into her steward someday. You could be like Milo, always around the palace, someone she could rely on completely. It wouldn’t be a bad life.”

Cammon felt a sharp well of dissatisfaction at the picture, but couldn’t exactly say why. “I
hate
Milo!”

Justin grinned. “He does his job. And Baryn trusts him absolutely. And if the princess trusts you—well, it might be a good fit.”

Cammon shrugged, then nodded. It was hard to imagine wanting to hold any position at the palace once Amalie was married. Why would she need him? Why would he want to stay?

“So where are they now?” Justin asked, changing the subject without a transition. But Cammon was used to the question, since Justin had asked it daily. “Are they still in Carrebos?”

“I think so. They seem to be staying put at the moment.” He sipped his beer. “And they seem to be pleased with whatever they’re doing.”

Justin stretched out his long legs and shook back his sandy hair. He looked utterly at ease, almost sleepy. Cammon felt someone in the bar gaze over at them with sharpened attention.

“You haven’t had too much to drink, have you?” he asked softly.

Justin gave him a slow grin. “Why? Some hot-blooded young kid with a sword thinking he wants to start a fight with a drunken Rider?”

“Something like that.”

Justin seemed to relax even more. “That won’t go so well. But thanks for the warning.”

“Thoughts of violence are like shouts in my head. I can block out almost everything else, but those always come through.”

“What I find interesting is that you always know where we are.” Justin never specified “we.” It was always clear whom he meant. “Without even thinking about it. We’re just there, in your head, all the time.”

Cammon nodded. “Pretty much.”

“What about Ellynor? Does she register with you the same way?”

Cammon leaned forward and used his finger to make a circle on the table from a few spilled drops of beer. “I can only sense Ellynor when you’re with her—and then only because I can feel her effect on you. It’s like she pulls part of your attention in her direction.” He drew his thumb through the circle to create a short streak of wetness. “So, I can tell if she’s with you, but that’s the best I can do.”

“Still. That’s not bad,” Justin said. “Who else? Your tutor friend, what’s his name?”

“Jerril? I can find him right away if I look for him but he’s not always there in my mind like the rest of you are.”

“The king?”

“Same.”

“The princess?”

Cammon opened his mouth to answer and then jerked his head back and stared at Justin—who stared right back at him, his expression just slightly edged with malice. A trap, and Cammon had fallen into it. Cammon hadn’t even realized it, hadn’t thought about it, hadn’t examined it. But there she was, Amalie, a faint and flickering light on the border of his consciousness. Cammon could leave this bar, head back to the palace, climb any set of stairs, traverse any corridor, and go directly to whatever room held Amalie. He knew where she was, he could
feel
her, she had become one of his constant internal beacons, part of the ordinary and familiar texture of his life.