The Mirror of Her Dreams (61 page)

Terisa did the best she could to help. Slowly, she said, 'When he first appeared, he nearly killed me. But he stopped himself. He said, 'I don't shoot women.''

Myste smiled like a beam of sunshine through the storm piling snow over Orison.

The snowfall began to lessen shortly after sunset. Because she didn't want to risk departing Orison under an open sky and a clear moon, across an expanse of new snow in which she would leave obvious tracks, Myste left Terisa's room promptly. Her supplies over her shoulder under her cloak, a small oil lamp in one hand, she opened the hidden door and clambered through the wardrobe into the passage.

'Be careful,' Terisa whispered after her. 'If you get lost, and Castellan Lebbick has to send a search party down there to find you, we're both going to look pretty silly.'

'Do not let him bully you,' replied the lady almost gaily. 'He only does it because he loves my father. I thank you with all my heart. I think I have not been this happy for years.'

As an afterthought, Terisa asked, 'What shall I tell Elega?'

With the lamp in front of her, Myste seemed to be standing on the lip of a well of darkness. Tell her nothing.' Her voice carried a hollow sound like an echo. 'Watch her. If she truly means to betray the King, stop her.'

How do you expect me to do that? Terisa demanded. But she didn't speak aloud. Myste was already gone.

Oh, well. Terisa closed the passage and got out of the wardrobe. Tomorrow she would have to go looking for Master Eremis. He needed to know how he had been betrayed. For some reason, the prospect of talking to him didn't appeal to her. She preferred to think about Myste.

She wanted to believe that someday she would have as much courage as the King's daughter.

As soon as she went to bed, she slept like a dead woman all night.

She was awakened early the next morning by the sound of horns.

It snatched her out of bed as if it were the call from her dreams, the distant appeal and ache of music or hunting. In too much of a hurry to notice that her fires had almost died out and the air was chilly, she strode naked out of the bedroom, looking for the source of what she had heard.

It came again.

It wasn't the call she remembered. It was the blare of a trumpet, the same solitary fanfare which had greeted the arrival of the lords of the Cares to Orison.

Now she recollected herself enough to feel the cold. Nevertheless she went to the window and looked out over the muddy courtyard.

The trumpet winded again. Apparently, each of the departing lords was being given a personal salutation: she saw the Fayle and his entourage emerge from the gate with the Perdon behind him while the Termigan turned his horse away from the guards ranked formally behind Castellan Lebbick. Then came the Armigite, accompanied by his guards and courtiers-and by two or three women. Perhaps they were his mistresses or courtesans.

Last was Prince Kragen.

So he was leaving also. Apparently he-like the lords-had decided to remain only long enough to assess the consequences of what the Congery had done. Were they all abandoning Orison now because it was no longer safe, no longer proof against siege-or even against weather? Did Prince Kragen intend to bring down the war which the lords of the Cares fled?

How much was the translation of the champion going to cost Mordant in the end?

The cold of the stone against her arms and breasts made her shiver. The tempo of events was accelerating. She thought she heard a wild note of warning in the way the trumpeter blew his salute as Prince Kragen received his abrupt farewell from Lebbick and turned towards the gate, surrounded by his coterie of bodyguards.

Shivering violently, she left the window.

First she retrieved her robe and sashed it tightly; then she worked on her fires, stoking them with fresh kindling, blowing on the coals until the kindling caught flame, feeding the flames with generous quantities of wood. After a while, she began to feel warmer.

She had become surprisingly hungry during the night. But Saddith didn't usually bring her breakfast quite this early. When she had completely stopped shivering, she decided that she would get dressed, then ask one of her guards to call for the maid and a tray.

She wanted to wear her own clothes: she had had enough of gowns for the time being. To her bafflement, however, she couldn't find her moccasins. That was strange. When had she last worn them? The night before last, to the meeting of the lords. Where were they?

Had Saddith taken them for some reason?

Frowning, she finished dressing, put on the delicate buskins again, then went to the door and unbolted it.

The guards outside looked vaguely familiar: they must have had this duty sometime recently. They saluted her, and one of them asked if she needed anything.

'Can you call my maid?' she asked. 'I want breakfast.'

'Of course, my lady.' A moment later, the man added, 'Apt Geraden was here earlier, asking if you're all right. I won't be surprised if I see him again soon.' He grinned. 'Should I tell him you're ready for visitors?'

'Yes, thank you.'

Smiling because Geraden must be well if his brother and the physician were willing to let him worry about others, she closed the door and returned to her windows to watch people-guards on duty, servants carrying supplies, men and women who had business with the few shops already open in the northwest end -watch them slogging through the cold and mud of the courtyard while she waited for Saddith or the Apt.

Soon there was a knock at her door. Before she could answer it, Castellan Lebbick stalked into the room and slammed the door behind him.

In the centre of the rug, he stopped to face her. He had one arm clamped at his back, the other cocked on his hip. His jaws chewed anger; his shoulders were stiff with it.

Nevertheless he was smiling.

'My lady'-his tone was practically cheerful-'you are done lying to me.'

To her surprise and relief, she didn't cringe. She had already outfaced him once: she could do it again.

'I would have come sooner,' he commented in a conversational way, 'but I've been busy. I'm sure you don't want to hear about it, but I'll tell you anyway.

'I was on my way to confront you again yesterday when the Fayle found me and told me what those pigshit Imagers were doing. After that, of course, I had to organize my men to help dig you and Geraden out of the rubble. I had to provide protection for the lords of the Cares and'-his mouth sneered-'Prince Kragen as well as King Joyse, in case that
champion
turned to attack us. I had to arrange to follow and trap him, so that he wouldn't do any more damage. Since I knew where Eremis was, I didn't have to worry about him. But I had to spend hours and good men searching for Gilbur.

'
I suspect you already know the outcome. I'm going to tell you anyway.

'Gilbur is gone. Vanished as completely as if he's mad and can use any flat glass he wants. The lords are gone. Since they think the Masters are insane, they aren't willing to stay and stand by their King. I had to let Prince Kragen go. He's an
ambassador.'
He grinned as though considering the prospect of tearing into her with his teeth. 'In addition, the champion is free.'

Tree?' The Castellan had made no mention of Myste. He wasn't saying the things Terisa expected. It was happening too fast. Why did he want to 'confront' her? How could Master Gilbur have vanished? 'What do you mean?'

'
l mean, my lady,' he replied like the edge of an axe, 'that my men failed. Of course, I only sent fifty-but two hundred might have done no better.

'
Oh, they found him easily enough. That strange armour of his doesn't include wings. In any case, I think he's wounded. So they should have been able to keep him. I didn't tell them to fight. I didn't want him provoked. I just wanted him to stay in one place until we had a chance to decide what to do with him.

'But his translation was planned well. Gilbur and Eremis must have been working on this for a long time.' Now the fury in his grin couldn't be mistaken. 'My men succeeded. They made him stop. But before they could do anything more than send a rider back to me, they were attacked. The air in front of them opened, and a cat the size of a small
horse
jumped out.'

In some strange way, the Castellan's ire sustained him, as if it were the food on which he lived.

'A beast that large would have been formidable under any circumstances. But this one, my lady-
this
one set fire to everything it touched. Flesh and iron were tinder for it, and it butchered my men like cattle. Only two escaped. They left it feeding on charred carcasses. I'm lucky I didn't send two hundred men. I can't afford to lose two hundred men.

'Since then,' he went on more quietly, 'I've been out there. The snow makes it easy to see that the champion and that firecat left in different directions. Clearly, they didn't do us the courtesy of destroying each other. Now we have two abominations on our hands, instead of one.'

Terisa shuddered involuntarily. Fifty men-! And that was where Myste had gone-She nearly groaned aloud,
That's where Myste went!

But all this had happened yesterday; and Myste hadn't left Orison until last night. The odds were great that both the champion and the firecat were so long gone that she would never catch up with them.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Terisa said, 'That's terrible. I just don't understand what it has to do with me.'

'My lady,' he replied like a blade, 'in some way you are responsible.'

She started to protest, but he cut her off. 'Yesterday morning, right after you left here with Eremis and Geraden, I took your advice. I did 'a little work'. I searched your room.'

For some reason, she found that she had to brace herself against the wall to keep her knees from folding.

'I discovered a chair in your wardrobe.' His satisfaction was as keen as his anger. 'And I found these.'

From behind his back, he produced her moccasins.

While she stared at them, he said, 'You were able to wash the blood out of your clothes. But these are leather. You couldn't do anything about the bloodstains on the soles.'

At that moment, a knock on the door interrupted him.

'Come in!' he snapped harshly.

The door opened, and Geraden entered the room.

Her attention jumped to him like a leap of the heart. For an instant, she saw his ready smile and the light of pleasure in his eyes, and she felt that she was already rescued, that his mere presence would be enough to save her He was loyal to King Joyse-therefore logically on the Castellan's side against her. But she was confident that he would stand by her, whatever happened.

The next instant, however, his pleasure vanished in alarm as he grasped what was going on. Warily, he inquired, 'Castellan Lebbick? My lady?'

Lebbick nodded in recognition. 'Geraden, Is this an accident, or are you intruding on purpose? Are you in this with her?'

'In what?' asked Geraden,

For a moment, the Castellan studied him. Then Lebbick said sourly, almost bitterly, as though he were disappointed, 'No, I don't believe it. You're capable of almost anything misguided or blind. But you know better than to betray your King. The Domne would birchwhip you to ribbons if you tried it.'

'Are you accusing the lady Terisa of treason?' Geraden sounded a little frightened by his own temerity, but determined nonetheless. 'Isn't that awkward? I mean, she isn't one of his subjects. He has no claim on her. How can she commit treason?'

Castellan Lebbick returned his gaze to Terisa. She met it so that she wouldn't look at Geraden, wouldn't let her need for him show in her face.

Softly, her accuser growled, 'Why are you here, boy?'

This morning,' replied Geraden promptly, 'the Congery will hold a funerary commemoration for the two Masters who died yesterday. The lady Terisa is asked to attend.'