The Sword-Edged blonde (32 page)

I walked out of the woods and down the path to the cottage door. No lights showed behind any of the curtains. I knocked like I really meant business. “Hey! Open up!”

A lamp blazed in a window, and somewhere a baby started crying. I knocked again, and used the same voice that once sent tough mercenaries into battle. “No bullshit, open up! I mean it!”

The door opened, and royal game warden Terry Vint appeared. He held up the lamp to verify my identity. “Eddie?” he said sleepily. “What the hell—”

“I’m here for Pridiri, Terry,” I said. “His mom’s down the road, and she’ll be here in about five minutes. I don’t want any trouble.”

Shana Vint appeared behind him, holding a fidgety baby. Two other small children clung to her nightgown skirt. “Terry? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Terry said, but I saw the flash of genuine terror in his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“Just tell me if I’ve got this right. The night Queen Rhiannon supposedly murdered her son, a scary blond guy showed up here with a baby. He figured one more face in this brood wouldn’t be noticed. He wouldn’t tell you who the baby was, but he told you to keep him, and threatened your own kids if you let anybody know. You’re a good judge of people, Terry, and you could tell he was for real. Once word got out of what happened at the castle, though, you knew who he’d given
you. Hiding him right under the king’s nose was brilliant. When the crisis started, Phil had no spare time for hunting, so nobody came out here. And you kept quiet, just like you promised.”

Terry swallowed hard. “I couldn’t risk my family, Eddie,” he finally choked out.

“I know. And you were right, the guy would’ve killed any of your kids without blinking. But not anymore.”

“How do you know?”

“I was there.”

He absorbed this for a moment. Then he sighed, with both relief and apprehension, and motioned Shana forward.

She disengaged from her own brood and stepped to the door, holding the same fat, dark-haired baby I’d seen in her arms weeks before. Tears ran down her face. “He already feels like one of mine.”

“Eddie, man, damn. How’d you
know?
” Terry asked.

“When I visited you, you told me you had five kids. Mentioned it a couple of times. I counted six, and since the baby doesn’t look a thing like either one of you, I could guess who he was.” Oh, if only I were so bright. It took weeks for that nagging detail to finally announce itself. But nobody else needed to know that.

Shana held Pridiri out to me. I shook my head, and whistled sharply to signal Anders. To Shana I said, “You can give him back to his mother.”

Rhiannon emerged from the woods like a ghost materializing from the darkness. Her pale skin and flaxen hair glowed bone-white in the moonlight. Shana gasped, for a moment actually convinced this was some ghoulish banshee. Then Anders appeared behind her, leading
the horses. I stepped aside so Rhiannon could see her son.

With a cry she ran forward, practically knocked me over and took the baby from Shana. She swayed as she clutched him, murmuring, “Pridiri, Pridiri, my baby.” Terry and Shana slowly knelt, and gestured at the rest of their now-awakened clan to do the same.

Rhiannon spun in place, laughing and crying. Finally she stopped, saw the Vints on their knees and wiped at her tears. “I don’t know why you hid him from me, Terry,” she said, torn between relief and anger, “but thank you for at least keeping him safe.”

“They’re not the bad guys,” I said. “They’re victims just like you.”

Rhiannon and Shana exchanged a significant, probably mother-exclusive look. Then the queen smiled. “Then I thank you even more for caring enough to protect him. Please, stand up. Under the circumstances it seems silly to be formal.”

“Would you like to come in?” Shana said, reflexively polite before she could stop herself. The thought that the queen might accept the invitation visibly terrified her.

Rhiannon looked at me over Pridiri’s fuzzy head. “I’d really just like to go home now.”

“Yeah,” I agreed.

T
he city gates were guarded and blocked by the time we returned, but of course they let us through when they saw Rhiannon and Pridiri. After conferring with Anders, the royal guard sent a messenger to the king and cleared a path all the way through town from the gate straight to the castle door. Some of the big, burly soldiers even visibly cried as the queen and crown prince passed them.

Word spread through Arentia City like the spring flood through Neceda, and the streets filled with citizens anxious to witness Rhiannon’s triumphal return. By the time we reached the steps that led up to the king’s great hall, the cheering had grown so loud it blocked out all other sound, like storm waves crashing on a beach.

Phil, Wentrobe and a dozen castle guards waited at the top of the stairs as our horses stopped at the bottom. The doors to the great hall stood open behind them, and I saw pages frantically lighting the chandeliers. Phil wore his crown and royal cape, and as I dismounted and helped Rhiannon to the ground, he swept down to meet her. I took Lola’s reins and pulled her
aside so nothing impeded this reunion. But when Phil at last stood before her, neither of them made any move. They faced each other in grim silence.

The cheers gradually faded as it dawned on the crowd that their king had imprisoned an innocent woman, who now stood ragged and filthy before him with the proof of her innocence squirming in her arms. Her feet were planted wide in a fighting stance, and I was near enough to see the fury blazing in her eyes.

Anders stood nearby, his hand casually on his sword hilt. We exchanged a guarded, uncertain look. Like everyone else, we wondered what Phil would do.

The king removed his crown and handed it to Anders. He draped his cape around Rhiannon’s shoulders. Formally, he knelt before her.

A gasp went through the crowd; the king of Arentia fell to his knees for
no one
.

Then Phil lowered himself all the way to the ground and publicly kissed his wife’s dirty feet.

I swear my hair blew back from the approving scream that erupted from the crowd. Phil stood and wrapped his family in a tight embrace. Our eyes met over the top of Rhiannon’s head and I saw the depths of his gratitude.

He retrieved his crown from Anders and placed it on Rhiannon’s head. It was too big, and so rode askew on her greasy locks. All of Arentia City laughed.

The rest of the evening—the entire night, in fact—was given over to a spontaneous celebration. It started after Phil and Rhiannon adjourned to their private quarters, where I’m sure the first thing she did was bathe. At least I hope it was. Wentrobe woke the kitchen staff and had them fire up the ovens, then led a raid on the wine
cellar. I never saw the old guy move so purposefully. By the time the king, his clean and slightly breathless queen, and their son returned to the great hall the party was in full swing. Someone dragged a band from a tavern and they played ragged, bawdy dancing songs that ordinarily would never have echoed in the palace, especially on Wentrobe’s watch.

I drank a little, thanked Anders for all his help, but really didn’t feel like joining the party. I was too tired, and too many things had happened that didn’t really merit celebrating. Ideally I would’ve just left, but Phil was no ordinary client and I really did want to see him one last time. So I slipped out and returned to the secret spot on the castle roof until the party died down.

I hadn’t noticed how clear the night was until I settled in against the chimney. The stars shone like frozen sparks thrown from lightning, and I easily picked out all the constellations I’d learned in school. The waning moon still provided plenty of illumination.

My attention stayed on the stars. Some believed that each one was the soul of the dead, and they shone more brightly when someone they loved thought of them. Were the two brightest stars that night the souls of Janet and Cathy? I hoped so, because in that glorious sky, I knew they’d found peace.

This high, even in the summer, the night wind grew chilly. Rhiannon still had my jacket, so I shifted to the chimney’s opposite side. Here I had a view across the moonlit city, fully alive at the news of the queen’s return. A soft rushing sound I attributed to wind at first grew louder until I recognized it as cheering. The
whole town
was still cheering. Wow.

I didn’t quite fall asleep, but my mind drifted until
I completely lost track of time. When I snapped back to the moment, I tried to quickly reorient myself by the changed position of the stars. Before I could, though, the rooftop door opened. I thought I’d have to explain that I wasn’t some burglar trying to get into the royal treasury, but when I peeked around the chimney, I saw Phil emerge and make his way across the slanted roof. He dropped wearily onto the shingles beside me and leaned back against the brick. “I’m exhausted,” he said.

“I bet.”

“There’ll be another big soiree tonight to officially welcome back the queen. We’d both really like you to stay.”

“Can’t say no to a king.”

He handed me a small flask from inside his jacket. I took a drink and passed it back. “I owe you one,” he said.

“Nah. Friends do this stuff.”

We sat silently for a while. Then he said, “Is there anything you need to tell me privately? About Ree?”

I slowly shook my head.

“So you didn’t find out anything about her past?” he pressed.

“That wasn’t what you asked me.”

“Come
on
, Eddie, I need to know.”

I turned to face him. “Phil, suppose I told you I found out the most horrible, repulsive thing about her? Something that would make you never want to be near her, let alone touch her, ever again. Would you want to know?”

He nodded.

“Now suppose I said I found out the most amazing, transcendent, beautiful thing imaginable about her? And
that knowing it would make you feel unworthy to even be in her presence. Would you want to know that?”

“What does
that
mean?”

“It means I don’t know who or what the hell she really was before, Phil. But now she’s your wife, your queen and the mother of your little boy. And man, does she love you. That’ll have to be enough.”

He scowled in frustration. “What if something like this happens again?”

“Not a chance,” I said with absolute certainty. I
wasn’t
that sure, of course, but I wanted Phil to be. And the relief in his eyes was payment enough.

We passed the flask and watched the eastern sky grow lighter until neither of us could keep our eyes open. We went inside, and I slept most of the day. If I dreamed, I don’t recall.

T
HE OFFICIAL PARTY
celebrating Rhiannon’s exoneration and Pridiri’s return from the dead was as big an affair as Wentrobe could organize in a little less than twelve hours. Anyone of note who could get to Arentia City was present, and the free food and liquor meant a lot of people came to town. Phil and Rhiannon held court seated on their matching thrones, each in their best official trimmings. I’d never seen either of them in their work clothes before, and the effect was suitably impressive. They passed Pridiri back and forth often, neither wanting anyone but the other to care for him.

For about ten seconds that evening, I’d considered wearing the LaCrosse crest on my dinner coat. One had mysteriously appeared in my closet, no doubt at Phil’s instruction. I tried it on and checked myself out
in the mirror; my father looked back at me. I returned it to the closet and dressed in nondescript, borrowed finery.

I lurked around the party’s sidelines, raiding the bar and buffet but avoiding anyone who looked like they might recognize me. I also couldn’t keep myself from scanning the crowd for ugly chimpanzees. Eventually the sound and noise got to me, and I eased out of the banquet hall. People milled about all areas of the castle, and I pretended to be taking in the wonders of the royal family’s art collection until, near midnight, I entered the dark Hall of Portraits. I startled one teenage couple necking in a corner, and they scurried away. It made me smile, though.

Again the big room was lit only by moonlight, only this time I wasn’t drunk, and the sounds of joy and life from the banquet soaked through the centuries-old stone walls. I looked up at Janet’s picture for a long time before I realized I wasn’t alone.

Rhiannon drifted from the shadows. Her golden hair shimmered, and her jewels twinkled like trails left by her mysterious birds. Her gown swished across the marble floor. “I hope I’m not intruding,” she said.

“It’s your castle.”

She laughed. “So why aren’t you with the rest of us? Dining on ashes?”

I shrugged. “Maybe. Better for you than crow.”

She stood beside me and looked up at the portrait. “Philip told me a lot about her. Sometimes when I look at that painting, I feel like I knew her, too. I feel the loss.”

“I’m sorry for that,” I said. I meant it.

She took my hand. I didn’t look at her. “I owe you more than I can ever repay,” she said. “All of us do.”

I shrugged. “It’s my job.”