Tricksters Queen (28 page)

Nuritin's brittle voice cut the air. "Sarai! You forget yourself! Are you a lady or a shrieking Dockmarket trollop?"

"Neither, apparently, according to the regents!" Sarai replied, her voice a little quieter. "And it's sad when people who are related to the royal family aren't allowed to express opinions! In Tortall the monarchs
must
listen to the Councils of Lords and of Commoners. In Carthak the emperor has created an assembly of nobles. Landholders matter there, but not here. We are just going to rot from within."

The family was at supper when a Crown messenger arrived. Word spread through the house that Princess Imajane had requested Duchess Balitang's company the next morning when Elsren went to join the king. Winnamine accepted, puzzled. "Unless she wants to press her case to have you join her ladies-in-waiting," she remarked to Sarai as the ladies, children, and maids whiled the stormy evening away in their sitting room. Elsren squeaked each time lightning flashed and thunder boomed, and Petranne giggled.

"If she does," Winnamine continued, nudging Petranne and Elsren with a slippered toe, "I shall tell her I cannot allow you to join her at present, for the sake of the family's honor. You're not fit to serve in polite company anymore, Sarai."

"Because I'm not blind and complacent?" demanded Sarai bitterly. "Because I get angry when common people are treated badly and no one of our class tries to help? Or because I resent being pushed around by a bully in armor? A girl wanted to give me a flower on our way back, and a soldier shoved her away. He knocked her down! Zaimid cared for her—while Ferdy and the others looked on—but still, Winna, how can we stay in such a place? No one can live a decent life here anymore. Look what happened to Topabaw. He gave a lifetime of service, and they made an Example of him."

"Definitely
not fit for polite society," Nuritin commented, her voice dry as she pushed a needle through silk.

The duchess, accompanied by Pembery and Yoyox, who looked most respectable in a footman's livery, joined Elsren and his escorts from the King's Guard on their morning ride to the palace. A squad of household men-at-arms fell in step behind the guards, the duchess's protection when she chose to return.

Dove waved goodbye until the house gate closed behind them, then turned to Ulasim. "I think I'll go visit Herbrand Edgecliff," she told Ulasim firmly. Looking at Aly, she added, "I had better request an escort of men-at-arms before it’s forced on me."

Ulasim smiled at her as he might at a favorite niece. "If Lady Nuritin says you may," he replied. Dove scowled at him, for the moment an ordinary girl deprived of an amusement, then flounced into the library. She knew that Nuritin would not allow her out of the house with a hundred guards, not so soon after the prison break.

Aly watched her go. "You might want to put watchers on all the tunnels out of the grounds," she suggested.

"I shall," Ulasim answered, "but Lady Dove is too wise to try it. Lady Sarai I would have to shackle to a post. Lucky for us that it takes until noon for Lady Sarai to wake up all the way." He rested a hand on Aly's shoulder. "I received a communication this morning. It sits on your desk."

Aly, curious, went to see what had come. She found a grubby note, written by Nawat.

/
am busy but I did good on Tongkang. Now I am at Imahyn. There is war smoke almost everywhere we fly over. Our cousins the raka are mobbing the soldiers everywhere. The sparkly is for you.

Aly looked. Beside the note was a small, many-colored piece of glittering rock. She held it in her hand as she reread the note, then kissed the paper and tucked it into her sash. She kept the stone in hand as she began to read her usual stack of reports.

The duchess returned at noon. She found Nuritin, her daughters, their maids, Petranne, and Rihani in the courtyard, mending clothes or reading. All but Nuritin rose as Winnamine hurried toward them. Her face was bone white.

"Aunt, Sarai, Dove, let's go to our sitting room. We will have lunch there, Boulaj, if you will tell Chenaol and the maids." Rihani was already taking Petranne inside, though she had to stop so the girl could give her mother a kiss. At a nod from Nuritin, Dorilize gathered all of her things and left. Boulaj, too, went to execute her orders. Only Aly remained.

"Are you still the god's messenger?" Winnamine asked.

Aly was worried. The duchess was trembling from top to toe. "I have always been, Your Grace," she replied, though she knew Winnamine thought she was Mithros's messenger, not Kyprioth's.

"Then come with me," said the duchess. She looked around the pool courtyard, distracted, then strode into the house, Aly trotting to keep up.

Once inside the ladies' sitting room, they spoke of Lord Matfrid's birthday. It was simply a way to pass time. The day was already so hot that the duchess closed and locked the shutters to provide shadowy coolness. No one touched their food, though they continued to talk as the maids left. The duchess locked the door behind them.

"Why does
she
remain?" demanded Nuritin, pointing a bony finger at Aly.

"It's a long story, Aunt," said Winnamine, taking a seat. She began to twist her handkerchief in her hands. "I haven't time to tell it at present. Just accept that I trust Aly as if she were family."

"Goddess bless, Winna, what did Imajane
say
to you?" demanded Sarai, resting a hand on her stepmother's arm. "You're shaking!"

The others waited, their eyes on the duchess.

"I met with the regents." Winnamine spoke slowly. "In their personal quarters . . ." She looked up at them and took a deep breath. "They have noticed—they've been told—how much attention you girls receive from people in the street," she said. "How they like to do things for you. They believe it is because you are half raka and yet close to the throne. They have made us a proposal. I said we need time to think. We have until the kings birthday." She turned to Sarai. "The regents propose a marriage between you and Dunevon," she explained. "The contracts are to be signed quickly, 'to give the people confidence in the Crown’ Rubinyan told me. I protested; I reminded them you were cousins. They reminded
me
you were second cousins, which is not as serious. There are precedents, in Carthaki, even in Kyprin history. The royal line of Siraj came from marriages between siblings or half siblings. They would ask you to move to the palace when the contract is signed, to convince the people of their sincerity. But they say it would bring peace and hope to the raka. And, when Dunevon comes of age, the Copper Isles would have a queen again."

Nuritin struggled with a lifetime of caution and lost. "Are they
mad?"

"They are worried," said Winnamine, without taking her eyes from her stepdaughter. "The country must seem unstable, between the rebellions on the other islands and the escape from Kanodang. I think they want more support in case Nomru rebels. They know they will have serious problems if he does so, but if they can set your marriage against that, they might be able to preserve order."

"You
approve?"
Sarai asked, her voice tiny.

"I understand their reasons. I did not say I approve." Winnamine grasped Sarai's arm. "I can advise you, but the choice must be yours," she told Sarai earnestly. "Marriage to a child is no guarantee of stability. It does not comfort me that Imajane refers to him as 'the brat.' Rubinyan is an honorable man, and he loved your father. That does not mean he would hesitate to take the throne himself, if he thought the nation required a strong adult king."

"I cannot imagine that Imajane has ever forgotten that under the old laws of the country,
she
would have inherited when Hazarin died," Nuritin added. "She would have her own reasons to advise Rubinyan that the country would be stronger with them on the throne."

"Don't give them an answer yet," Dove advised. "Let them think you're considering it, but you can’t decide. Find reasons to put them off until after the king's birthday—that's two weeks from now. They offer the Crown like a bauble— play with it, and with them."

"Buy time," Nuritin advised, nodding. "Dove is right. Promise nothing."

"Things change so fast," Dove went on. "Look at just this last week. And Sarai, once they get you in the Gray Palace, you won't ever be able to escape."

"But you all think I should do it," whispered Sarai.

"We didn't say that," Winnamine told her. "We present our ideas, and you consider them. You make the choice." She looked up at Aly, eyes pleading. "What do you say?"

Aly admired the regents' boldness. There were so many different ways this plan could be changed. It gave them a hundred options, some of which might even work. At the very least, if Sarai accepted, the people might well think it was a sign that a raka queen would reign again. Plenty of queens had seized power from much younger kings, and not just in the Isles or Carthak.

"I can say nothing, Your Grace," Aly remarked slowly. "I have no guidance in this."

"What?" demanded Nuritin with a frown.

"We'll explain later," Dove said hurriedly. "Sarai,
think.
We can
use
this. There are so many ways to manage it. All you have to do is pretend."

Sarai got to her feet. "I need time," she said quietly, not looking at them. "At least give me until after Grandfathers birthday to give
you
my decision. And ask them to wait until after the king's birthday for a reply, please." She looked at the duchess. "You must see that I can't possibly answer, not right away. Who would have imagined they'd make such an offer? I'll tell you by the end of the week."

Everyone nodded.

"After we come home from Grandfather's," Sarai told them. "I promise I won't discuss it with anyone but you." She left the room.

The raka conspirators were not happy when Aly and Dove told them of the regents' latest move. Even Ulasim lost his temper and shouted that the raka would fight in the streets before they allowed such a thing. It took Dove and Aly hours to calm them down. It was not official, the girls reminded the conspirators. It might never
be
official. All anyone could do until she reached her decision was to keep the rebellion going forward. They were due to leave for the three-day celebration of Matfrid's sixtieth birthday. Sarai wouldn't voice a decision until they returned.

"Things could change," Dove and Aly’said over and over. "Things are changing already."

Two days later word came of a fresh uprising on Ikang Isle. The Crown sent a division of soldiers to crush it. Nawat wrote that he would go there with his crows and see what they might do. To Aly he sent a griffin feather. She kept it on her desk. She also reminded herself to tell the truth in her workroom, in case one feather had the same effect as an entire griffin, in whose vicinity no one could lie.

That night Aly was just going to sleep when a familiar, glowing shape knelt beside her pallet. Junai and Dove slept on, oblivious to Kyprioth's blaze in this form.

"I have an idea," he told Aly, "something to distract my brother and sister for a time. They really shouldn't have left their sun shield and moon shield in the Divine Realms, where some dishonest person might stumble across them."

"Perhaps they thought the Divine Realms wouldn't have that many dishonest people running about," Aly said with a yawn. It seemed Dove and Junai couldn't hear her, either. If they could, Junai would have been on her feet with weapons in her hands. "Except for you, of course."

"You wrong me," Kyprioth said in hurt tones, pressing a bright hand to the glowing area that was roughly the spot where a heart might be. "I am crushed. You think me no more than a low creature, and I a god. See what
you
get for your Midwinter's present from me! Besides, they would know I'd been there. I did, however, find myself a most enterprising young thief among the horse nomads east of Port Udayapur. He'll collect the shields if I guide him. There's an elemental who owes my beloved brother an ill turn or two. She will hide them well."

Aly yawned again. "Is this going to be a legend, or a hero tale, or something?"

"It's a diversion," said Kyprioth. "My brother and sister are about to return from the other side of the world. This will keep them busy for a time, though not forever. Tell Sarai that I have said she will never marry any Rittevon or Jimajen."

"If I get the chance," Aly said. "She's always with her friends, or her maids, or the family. And I think she ought to at least pretend she'll do it for the moment..."

Kyprioth vanished.

"I've known mayflies better able to pay attention," Aly mumbled as her eyes closed.

The next morning the servants packed for the three-day celebration of Matfrid Fonfala's birthday, at his estates on the other side of the harbors southern ridge. All of the Balitangs were going, which meant trunk after trunk went into the wagons.

Boulaj nearly went mad as Sarai dithered over what she would take. "She gets fussier every day," Boulaj confided, packing nearly everything Sarai owned. "And when she doesn't keep changing her mind about what to bring, she broods. I'm always relieved when her friends come—let
them
put up with her moods for an afternoon!"

Aly was preoccupied with a series of reports she had gotten about troop and ship numbers around the capital. She only nodded in response to Boulaj's complaint.

Dove shook her head. "It's this marriage thing," she told Boulaj. "She doesn't seem to realize that it's not real until the vows have been made. I keep telling her, there's no reason why she can't say yes and hold them off until something happens, but she's not listening to me." She smiled wryly. "Not a very good omen of my influence with her as a counselor when the time comes."

All three of them knew what "the time" was.

"She'll calm down," Aly murmured. "She's not a fool."

The afternoon was perfect for riding, the recent heat broken in a storm that had lasted all night. For once the air was warm and only slightly humid. The sole blot on the ride was the soldiers at various checkpoints who searched their wagons three times before they had left the city. Sarai was rude, despite warnings from Winnamine and Dove. It took a flat order from Fesgao to silence her.