The Rose Throne (10 page)

Ailsbet had to cover her mouth and pretend she was coughing to hide her laughter.

“And now, look, see how he dances, like one who is being fattened for the slaughter. But he does not know he is the pig. He does not see his butchers all around him.”

Ailsbet made a motion like a scythe cutting a throat, and only Lord Umber understood what it meant.

“Ah, there is your brother, Edik,” said Lord Umber a moment later. “He walks like a rabbit, sniffing about him, always expecting an attack.”

Ailsbet loved Edik, but he was like a rabbit, hesitating, turning this way and that. He knew the names and faces of the courtiers, but he did not understand the hidden meaning in their words or actions. He
had grown several inches recently and his voice had begun to change, squeaking at inopportune times and making him even more quiet at court than usual. He moved gawkily and often banged into people and walls, unused to his new size. His face had changed, as well, growing wider and becoming spotted.

Lord Umber wisely changed the subject. “See Lady Maj? She must have found a tentmaker to sew that gown for her. She moves like a teamster with a wagon, looking back before she nudges the horses forward.”

Lady Maj’s gowns were indeed of an old-fashioned style, with sleeves so long and belled her hands were hidden, and she wore her hair in an elaborate coif and then covered it with a gable hood that was as drab as her gown. She had a way of speaking about everything that made it clear how unhappy she was, how the world had been better in her youth.

There was no cruelty in her, and she was loyal to the queen, with whom she shared the same birth year, but she was ridiculous.

“And there, look at Lady Pippa,” said Lord Umber. “She leans toward your father, do you see that? Making sure that he has a good view down her bodice. She might as well be offering him two ripe melons. And will he refuse her? Though your father
pretends to power in his own court, who is it who rules here now?”

Lord Umber offered Ailsbet an arm and led her to the dance floor. He leaned in and whispered to her, “If you step on my toes, I shall take it as license for me to hold you in my arms and lift you above my feet. It will be a signal between us. Do you understand?”

“And what if I step on your feet because I am a bad dancer?” asked Ailsbet.

“Then you will have to bear my touch as your punishment.”

Ailsbet had tried to avoid dancing with Lord Umber, but it was inevitable. The danger was that to feel the beat of another heart, to be warmed by the breath of another in her ear, stirred her taweyr. She felt dangerously breathless around him. Yet she worked hard to keep herself guarded.

Lord Umber leaned into her hair, which had been curled into two big bows in front and left loose in the back. “Your own perfume is the scent of strength and youth and the dark forest, all combined. Did you know that?”

“I think you exaggerate,” said Ailsbet, fearing he was coming too close to the truth yet again.

“And why would I do that? What benefit for me
in flattering you? I should apply myself to your father instead.”

“Or to anyone else in the court. But you do not. I can only think it is because you have very poor taste.”

“Poor taste? You wound me. But in what other way would you prove that I have shown this terrible flaw? In my clothing? Perhaps my vest is too tight.”

“No,” she said, and felt her heart leap into her throat.

“Then my hose. They are too loose,” he suggested.

Ailsbet looked down at his strong legs. “No,” she said.

“My dancing? My strategy at court? My whispering to your father?”

“In me,” said Ailsbet, staring at him.

“And what is poor in my taste for you?” demanded Lord Umber. “You are everything that is spice and danger.”

“Everything?” said Ailsbet.

“Coriander, and turmeric and black pepper, cumin, and bay leaves and cloves, nutmeg and cardamom, and cinnamon,” said Lord Umber.

“Not cinnamon,” said Ailsbet. She thought it too sweet and too feminine.

“Not cinnamon, then,” said Lord Umber.

As for Lord Umber, Ailsbet thought he must be
more smelling salts than spice. With him next to her, she was always alert, always attentive. She could not nod off with boredom nor be content with what had always been. She wanted more, as dangerous as that was. If she was to be in Rurik, surrounded by taweyr, she wanted to feel Umber’s taweyr and to show her own.

K
ELLIN REMAINED IN THE PALACE
for more than a week after the betrothal had been agreed upon. It was early autumn, and as yet there had been no snow to block the roads south as there sometimes could be in Weirland, but Issa wondered how long Kellin would put off his return to Rurik. It would be a long journey home for him, and surely King Haikor was anxious for both his return and his news. And yet, Issa knew how much Kedor enjoyed his brother’s company, so she hated to bring up the topic of Kellin leaving with her father, fearing that would hasten the departure.

Furthermore, Kellin’s questions about the underground ekhono refuge had made Issa reconsider the simple answers her father had given her in the past. One morning, she asked King Jaap, “Why must the ekhono refugees from Rurik remain here so long? Why are they not immediately accepted into the larger kingdom?”

“Over the years, they have come in increasing numbers, and I have not found places for them all. There is nothing sinister in it,” said King Jaap.

“But they come here for freedom. Why must they be hidden underground? In Weirland, we know that the stories about ekhono tainting the two weyrs or stealing power are false.”

“Do we?” said King Jaap. He stopped and turned to her.

“Issa, you have lived in the castle all your life. You have been protected from the baser instincts of the people you are meant to rule over. Fear of the ekhono is deep-seated and part of the islands themselves, possibly as deep as the two weyrs. Those who are different are always a target of fear.”

Issa winced at the proof that she was as naïve as Duke Kellin had suggested. “But our own ekhono—” she started to say.

Her father shook his head. “When something goes
wrong, it is always the ones who are different who are blamed. And the ekhono from Rurik are doubly different here, foreigners as well as born with the wrong weyr. Some have been accused of being spies, others of ruining the weyrs of Weirland, as they have ruined Rurik.”

“Who would say such things?” Issa asked.

King Jaap shook his head. “The stories that are told in Rurik are told in Weirland as well, and they always have been. Fear of the ekhono crosses the border as often as the ekhono themselves. This very month, an ekhono woman whom I had placed five years ago with a smithy in the north was found dead, drowned in a small cavern. It was carefully done, well planned, and no one in the county will give a single name. They will not turn against one another, only against her.”

Issa held her breath. She had not imagined this, when she had asked her father to tell her the truth. “I am sorry,” she said at last. How horrible, to know such a thing, and to have to share it.

Her father continued, “I shall tell you another story, about a family who came from Rurik with two children, both ekhono. They were wheelwrights and lived not ten miles from here.

“Their house was burned, and their shop ruined
only this year,” said the king. “It seems that a group of local boys were angry that the girl was as strong in the taweyr as they were. They began to whisper that she had stolen their taweyr because she was ekhono.”

“What did you do?” asked Issa.

The king said, “I asked the boys’ parents to pay recompense as they could. They agreed to the plan, but I could not demand more than that or I would be in danger of a rebellion the like of which we have never seen in Weirland. It is King Haikor’s uniting of his people’s anger against the ekhono that has protected him from the rebellions his father faced. That and the way he taxes his lords in taweyr.”

Issa knew her father was right, but she did not like it. “And so the ekhono must stay here in the underground courtyard for years on end?” she asked.

“Only until I can find places for them that I trust.”

“How can you ever trust that there is safety again?” Issa asked.

“I must trust, both in myself and in my people. And I hope that when you are queen, you will find better solutions than I have.”

“This is why you look to the prophecy for a better future?” said Issa. “So that the weyrs are no longer separate and there are no ekhono, because
both men and women will have both magics?”

Her father nodded. “If the weyrs are drawn back together, then there can be no more divisions between the properly weyred and the ekhono. But perhaps it is a foolish dream.”

“Why is it the ekhono and not the unweyr who are attacked?” asked Issa.

Her father sighed. “Because there are so many ekhono here now in comparison to the unweyr. The unweyr do not challenge our assumptions of which magic should go to which person. And they are useful in trade with the continent.”

Issa had nothing more to say, and excused herself. Even if she did not believe in the prophecy, it seemed that marrying Edik was vital. What better way to help the ekhono and preserve peace than by going to Rurik?

Later that afternoon, Issa reached the Throne Room just as Duke Kellin was leaving it. He was dressed more ruggedly than yesterday, with long boots to the knee and a cloak made from the coarse wool of Weirland rather than the finer fabrics of the Rurese court.

“Your father has agreed already to my request to go out into the countryside with some of the members of the court,” he said. He paused. “I would be
pleased if you accompanied us, as well. I feel that I would be able to give Prince Edik a better picture of your kingdom if you were there to help me see it as you do.”

“I would love to accompany you,” said Issa eagerly. Then she reconsidered. “If my father agrees, of course.”

“You will be perfectly safe. I shall bring my own guards as well as your father’s, and it should be a large party of courtiers.”

“I was not worried about safety,” said Issa. “My own people are no threat to me.” What would it be like to live in a kingdom where the king himself had to bring guards to visit his own people, his own countryside?

“I would especially like to hear what you have to say about the neweyr here. I do not know much of it.”

“Because King Haikor has no interest in neweyr,” Issa said sharply.

“Yes, that is true. But it is Kedor’s magic, and I would like to know more of it. I cannot ask openly about it in Rurik.”

At that, Issa was embarrassed. She should have guessed what he meant. “I thank you for the chance. The weather has given us a mild autumn, and I
would like very much to see the countryside with you.” As soon as she said it, she wondered if he might think she was speaking out of turn. “I mean with Prince Edik’s emissary, not you personally—”

He held up a hand. “I know what you mean. It is quite clear how you feel about me. I should apologize for speaking so honestly to a princess. I would never have dared to do it in Rurik.”

“I do not mind honesty,” said Issa. “Why should you think that?”

“You enjoy being insulted, then?” said Kellin. “Being told that you are spoiled and ignorant?”

Issa looked away. “No, not that.”

“No, like any woman, you expect compliments.”

“I do not expect anything,” said Issa. “Least of all from you.”

She was about to stalk away when Kellin said, “I apologize. It is difficult for me to play two roles here. I am Kedor’s brother and protector on the one hand and Edik’s eyes and ears on the other.”

“I see,” said Issa. She did not know if she could believe the apology or not.

“Please tell me you will come with us to see the countryside,” said Kellin.

“It is my countryside,” said Issa, and went on her way.

She asked her father his opinion.

“Are you sure you wish to go? I had thought to keep you away from him. You do not seem to like him much.”

“It is my duty,” said Issa. “Is that not what you would tell me?”

“Your duty is to marry Edik, but you do not have to make friends with Duke Kellin.”

“Do I not? You said I must have allies in the court when I arrive next summer.”

“That is true,” said her father. “Then go with him and make him see Weirland as you see it. Make him understand why it is that you love your kingdom and will not give it up wholly when you are queen of Rurik.”

Issa nodded to him and went back to her own rooms, wondering why it was that Duke Kellin’s disapproval bothered her so much, and what it was she hoped to gain in showing him around her countryside.