Through Wolf's Eyes (23 page)

A hubbub arose at these words. Again Derian was
forced to admire the king. He had given a name to the foundling, the
same name as was borne by his granddaughter, but he had done so in such
a fashion that left open to doubt whether or not he acknowledged the
young woman as that granddaughter.

Only Grand Duke Gadman and Grand Duchess Rosene dared to address the king directly, and Gadman's querulous voice was loudest.

"Tedric," he said without formality, "are you saying that this wild-eyed creature is Barden's daughter?"

Grand Duke Gadman was a bent-over, bent-nosed parody
of his brother's regal aquilinity. Gossip said, and Derian could well
believe it, that the grand duke had been soured by holding no greater
honor than that of standby heir for something like seventy years.
Unlike Tedric, who had fairly earned his people's respect in battle,
Gadman never ventured farther than the fringes of armed conflict,
risking his reputation but not his hide.

Yet Derian did not underestimate Grand Duke Gadman as
a mere blowhard. By chance, his own brother, Brock, and Grand Duke
Gadman were both members of the Bear Society. From the tales that Brock
had brought home, Grand Duke Gadman was shrewd, intelligent, and, in a
fashion quite different from his brother, charismatic.

"I have said," Tedric replied, a faint smile playing about his lips, "precisely what I have said."

"You say that this girl is Eirene Norwood's
daughter," Gadman pressed. "Eirene was wed to Barden. Do you mean to
imply that this 'Blysse' is Barden's daughter?"

"Or," Grand Duchess Rosene added stridently, "do you not?"

King Tedric looked at each of his siblings with a weary tolerance that was not without affection.

"I have said what I have said. However, I will now
add that because I wish to get to know Lady Blysse better, I am
inviting her to dwell in the castle with my family. Earl Kestrel may,
of course, take a suite here himself."

Derian's knees weakened. If Kestrel accepted, as he
undoubtedly would, then Derian knew perfectly well where he himself was
going to be staying. He had thought himself equal to anything, but this
was beyond the ambitions of a carter's son. Any thoughts he had of
retreating, of making excuses, of risking both parents and patron's
ire, vanished as Firekeeper glanced up at him, her dark eyes anxious.

"King say we come here," she said softly. "Blind Seer, too?"

"Blind Seer, too," Derian promised, knowing he would keep his word even if he must smuggle the wolf in some dark night.

The rest of the banquet went much as could be
expected. Although Firekeeper's table manners had improved so greatly
that Derian had flattered himself that she could pass in polite
company—and Earl Kestrel had agreed—the real test cast bright sunlight
on their illusions.

The noble company gathered along the tables either
turned politely away or openly sniggered. That most of the mockery came
from those too young to have polished social skills— young Kenre
Trueheart and Citrine Shield, most notably— didn't offer much comfort.

Firekeeper still ate more like a wolf than like a woman and seemed less like a noblewoman than ever.

Of course, Derian thought unhappily as he surveyed
this august company from the invisibility of servitude, rumor said that
the Princess Lovella had arranged her brother Chalmer's death. Mere
acknowledgment would not make Firekeeper safe.

Far from it. If the king acknowledged her, she might be in greater danger than she ever had been in the wilds.

"T
HAT BANQUET
,"
announced Grand Duchess Rosene when the family had retired to the suite
which had been hers since as a young bride she brought her husband home
to her father's castle, "was a nightmare!"

Ostensibly, her audience was restricted to her son
and daughter and their spouses. Lady Elise, bearing tea and honeycakes
into her grandmother's parlor, retired to a corner after setting down
the tray, picked up her embroidery hoop, and was tacitly suffered to
remain.

"Whatever does that brother of mine intend!" the old
woman huffed, all offended privilege and suspicion. Without a word,
Aksel Trueheart leaned forward and began pouring tea, knowing that an
in-law's comments would not be appreciated at this moment.

"Precisely what he has achieved, good Mother,"
replied Ivon Archer, nursing his pipe to life between sheltering hands,
"to unsettle us all."

His sister Zorana nodded. "Yes. He has not
acknowledged that wild thing as Barden's daughter, but he holds the
possibility over us like a whip. Now, we dare not press him to name an
heir for fear that he will choose her over one better suited."

Unsaid but trembling in the air was that here, seated opposite each other, brother and sister, were rival claimants.

Grand Duchess Rosene shook her head despairingly.

"Simpletons!" she chided her children scathingly.
"Tedric's plan would never be anything so obvious. Already Gadman and I
have pressed him as hard as we dare. No, I fear he plays some deeper
game."

What? Ivon and Zorana spoke as one, their rivalry for the throne temporarily set aside.

"Well," Grand Duchess Rosene said, accepting a cup of
tea and stirring honey into it, "some say he intends to put aside Elexa
and wed another. Why not this girl? Norvin Norwood may claim her for
the Kestrel line, but I see nothing of either Eirene or Barden in this
stranger's face. She is too dark for one."

"Certainly he could not wed her!" Lady Aurella,
Elise's mother, said shocked. "Queen Elexa is Wellward born, my own
mother's sister. The king would not dare put her off in favor of a
commoner!"

"Not quite a commoner," Rosene reminded, "for Duchess
Kestrel has accepted this 'Blysse' into her household. By adoption, if
not by blood, she is Kestrel."

"King Tedric did seem to favor her." Ivon puffed on
his pipe, as if reluctant to say more. "I noted how frequently the
king's eyes strayed to the stranger. And he did have her seated at his
own right hand—far above her station, even if she was a granddaughter."

"Not if that granddaughter is his heir," Rosene said acidly sweet.

Watching her elders, Elise wondered if Grand Duchess
Rosene was enjoying stirring up her son and daughter. The old woman's
next speech confirmed her suspicions.

"But perhaps you are right, Aurella," Rosene said.
"Perhaps it is too much like a storyteller's romance to believe that an
old king would shed his barren wife to father a son on a common girl
young enough to be his granddaughter. What other use might he have for
her?"

"He could," said Aksel Trueheart, "mean to use her to learn our own closest wishes."

Lady Zorana's husband spoke hesitantly, as if uncertain
precisely
how to phrase his thoughts. Although he was a handsome man and strong,
no one held any illusions who was the dominant partner in this
marriage. Some went so far as to jest that Zorana married Aksel simply
as a properly pedigreed stud for her brood. Elise, who had often found
Uncle Aksel in the castle library poring over old parchments from the
days before the Plague, knew him to be more, a self-taught scholar and
a bit of a poet.

"Our closest wishes?" Zorana said, her tones no gentler than her mother's. "What do you mean?"

"Forget I said anything," Aksel replied. "A fleeting thought, one I must consider further."

Grand Duchess Rosene, however, would not let the point drop.

"I believe I seized the heel of your thought as it
fled, son-in-law," she said. "Think, fools! What better thing to bring
us all behind one candidate than to threaten us with a new player whom
we desire less? Haven't we all said that we would rather see Rolfston
Redbriar crowned king than have Allister Seagleam of Bright Bay
elevated above us?"

Murmurs of agreement answered her. The grand duchess
continued, setting her cup and saucer down with a rattle as her hands
suddenly trembled with excitement.

"Now Tedric has in his own castle one who he can use
in much the same fashion without raising the hopes of those who would
see a scion of our enemies on the throne!"

"That must be it, Mother!" Ivon agreed. "Blysse
Norwood can serve as King Tedric's prod, a reminder of what we get if
we do not dance to his tune. My guess is that soon enough we will hear
hints of who is her best 'rival' for the throne."

"And if we still resist," Zorana asked, her question
less a question than the voicing of a fear, "will he make this newcomer
queen simply to spite us?"

"That," Grand Duchess Rosene said, "is completely within the reach of my brother's perversity. I would not tempt him to try it."

"And," added Aksel Trueheart, heartened some by the grand duchess's expansion on his vague idea, "the girl could
still
be useful to him, even if he does not name her crown princess. He could
offer her in marriage to someone—perhaps to his heir, if the heir was
unwed, perhaps to the heir's heir, if that one was male and unwed."

"Like our son, Purcel," said Zorana thoughtfully.
"Yes. Even if Blysse is never officially named Prince Barden's
daughter, some trace of his noble aura will cling to her. There will
always be those who will respect her as an unacknowledged daughter of
the royal house."

Elise noted with a small smile how Aunt Zorana had
shown that her house, rather than her brother's, would be best suited
to win the king's favor. She didn't doubt that, beneath his apparent
vagueness, Uncle Aksel had entertained similar thoughts.

Certainly, her own father and mother didn't look
terribly pleased. Their only child was a daughter, unsuited for a match
with the newcomer.

"Would the king," said Ivon, trying to salvage what
was beginning to look like a bad situation, "elevate an unknown
woman—quite possibly not born from one of the Great Houses—to such
heights?"

"Don't be an idiot," Grand Duchess Rosene said
impatiently. "If we can seriously consider Tedric capable of making her
queen in her own right, certainly we can consider him elevating her to
queen by marriage. My dear husband Purcel was common born—though proven
hero. My own mother, Queen Rose, was not born of a Great House. My
father, King Chalmer, married for love, quite against the wishes of his
advisors."

"And that's what worries me the most," Rosene
continued after a thoughtful pause. "My brother has ample examples from
our own immediate history of kings acting against what their advisors
wish."

"Then this time," Zorana put in fiercely, "we must make certain that the king does nothing of the sort."

There was that in her aunt's tone that made Elise
shudder and hope that Lady Blysse, now housed somewhere within the
castle's walls, locked her doors securely.

E
ARL
K
ESTREL'S PARTY
was given rooms within the section of the castle normally reserved for
the king's immediate family. Since the death of Princess Lovella two
years before, this wing had been largely vacant and that vacancy was
ostensibly the reason for Kestrel's party being housed there.
Firekeeper could see that Earl Kestrel was delighted by this mark of
favor.

"The tower in which your rooms will be," the
silver-haired steward explained to the earl, "is furnished with its own
door out into the castle grounds. The king said that all your party is
to have freedom of the parks and gardens."

Earl Kestrel nodded. "That is thoughtful of His Majesty. My ward is not accustomed to remaining indoors all the time."

The steward managed a dry smile. "The king expressed
confidence that Lady Blysse would be able to control her pet if she
took him with her into public areas."

Firekeeper decided that the time had come to speak for herself.

"Blind Seer not a pet."

Derian put a hand on her arm.

"Firekeeper," he warned.

"Well, isn't," she persisted.

Derian shrugged and made some explanation to Steward
Silver, using language so complicated that Firekeeper could only catch
the gist of his argument. She did learn, however, that the falcon
Elation would be welcome at the castle and so went to sleep well
content.