Wolf's Head, Wolf's Heart (28 page)

"We had long known that humans possessed magic. Indeed, that was one reason we had treated with them as equals rather than dismissing them as Cousins, for one of the things that separates the Royal Beasts from the lesser Cousins are the magical gifts that occur from time to time.

"Among the first humans to come there had been those who could communicate with us—not as freely as you do, Firekeeper, but in a halting fashion. Almost every ship that had made the long voyage across the oceans had carried someone who could whistle up a wind. Early in our meetings, their healers used their talents for our good rather than reserving them for their people alone.

"But when the humans began to war among themselves, there came from the Old Country those who were gifted beyond some talent. These sorcerers came in many varieties, but one and all they possessed an ability we did not have—the ability to channel power in multiple ways, not merely one, as with a talent. Through rotes and rituals, they shaped the magical force. The greatest among them not only used these spells, they could enchant objects so that the least talented among them became suddenly sorcerous."

The kite spoke from her high perch.

"At first they directed these powers against each other, but when they had resolved their wars, the sorcerers acted against us. No talon is so sharp as to cut fire that explodes out of empty air, no bite tears so deeply as to seize lightning from the skies. And our tales tell of other things—of magics that warned of our approach so that even the stealthiest were detected, of invisible shields that wrapped the humans' limbs so that they were unbiteable.

"Eventually, solemn counsel was held among the Royal Beasts. There was much land east of the Iron Mountains, so much that the humans would be many years filling the space. We resolved to flee—flock and pack and herd—to make those mountains our stronghold.

"We had learned that iron weakened the sorcerers' power, though it did not appreciably weaken the abilities of those with inborn talents. We had noticed that the sorcerers were reluctant to chase us into the mountains and wondered if the very iron ore so plentiful in some of the mountains' rock caused them discomfort. And we had learned that humans were lazy. Surely they would not pursue us if there was no need and room enough east of the Iron Mountains for them to spread."

In a sharp voice, like but unlike the barking of a dog, the vixen spoke on, "It was a well-thought-out plan, yet not all the Royal Beasts chose to abide by the decision of the council and no one forced them to do so.

"Initially, those who remained behind found it easier to hide themselves, for they were few and more careful not to confront the humans. Even so, within a few generations none of the larger Royal-kind remained alive east of the Iron Mountains. Some of the wingéd folk did go east, but these did not do so out of stubbornness or stupidity. They went—even as the peregrine Elation has so recently done—to spy out human doings.

"As Royal-kind passed into human legend, any humans who might chance upon an unusually large hawk or an especially brilliant jay dismissed the evidence of their own eyes—an easy thing to do, for it is hard to judge the true size of a flying creature."

The sun had risen high during the deliberations and the tale-telling that followed. When the fox paused and a crow was about to take up the telling, the kestrel Bee Biter interrupted:

"Much time has passed and I am hungry, yet I would not miss the smallest part of this story, for it is rare to hear it told in full. Let us pause and hunt… and graze," he added with a glance at the herbivores among the gathering. "I suspect that Firekeeper would like time to think on all she has heard."

The raven glanced around the circle and saw that many were in agreement with the kestrel.

"Then we shall adjourn," he squawked, "until evening time brings the sun low."

The Royal Beasts melted into the forest or soared into the air until Firekeeper stood alone but for Blind Seer and Elation, looking around in wonder at what had been a crowded glade.

E
lise awoke on the morning of the wedding day oppressed by a feeling of nightmare.

She shifted into a sitting position within her curtained bed, burying her hands deeply in her golden hair and pushing her fingers against her scalp as if in that way to banish a vague sense of wrongness. All she succeeded in doing was bringing it into focus.

The ball the evening before… Accepting an offer to dance from the large man with the roll to his walk and the Islander accent. Prancing up and down the line, trying to be polite to her partner, yet acutely aware that Sir Jared danced a few couples away, that his set would intersect with hers.

Glancing toward Sir Jared during one exchange and seeing what she intuitively knew she was not meant to see: Her partner, Baron Endbrook, tucking something into Lady Melina Shield's glove. The movement had been smoothly done, so neatly managed that it could have been a part of the dance. Indeed, flirtation was a recognized element of the fun.

But Elise felt certain that Baron Endbrook had not been flirting with Lady Melina. He had made no effort to seek her out before this; after the dance ended he made no effort to ask her to dance.

Guardedly, not certain why she was so suspicious, Elise had kept an eye on the two, helped by the fact that Baron Endbrook was quite tall and that Lady Melina, clad as she was all in black, made her soft-footed and mostly silent way among the more gaily clothed guests like a black cat in a cage of songbirds.

Elise had nearly given up her vigil when she saw that Lady Melina's course as she strolled about the room on arm of one of her brothers would take her quite close to Baron Endbrook. As they had stayed almost conspicuously apart since the note was passed, this seemed significant.

When Lady Melina had dropped her fan where Baron Endbrook could retrieve it for her, Elise nearly cheered with delight. This was too much to be insignificant. She couldn't tell for certain if Baron Endbrook removed anything from the fan before returning it to the lady, but he certainly had the opportunity.

Lady Melina had departed soon thereafter and Baron End-brook invited a new partner to dance. He was still dancing when Elise's parents suggested that the family depart for home and Elise was forced to give up her vigil.

Yet once she was out in the family carriage, Elise had found herself doubting that she had actually seen anything important. Perhaps Baron Endbrook truly
had
been flirting with Lady Melina.

Lady Melina was not an unattractive woman for the mother of five, and she was now widowed. Her family connections were irreproachable—if one could leave out her traitor brother, and such a brother might make her more interesting to an Islander. If Baron Endbrook was unmarried, he might wish to raise his status by wedding her.

A casual question to Lady Aurella—easily enough asked, as all were gossiping about the other guests—had brought Elise the information that Baron Endbrook was indeed married and the father of three. That ruled out a marriage alliance, unless he intended a divorce, or was thinking about a marriage for his children rather than himself…

Elise had bit her lower lip in frustration, glad that the darkness within the carriage granted her a measure of privacy. She longed to ask what her mother thought, but that would mean explaining just why Elise had such a great dislike of Lady Melina—a thing Elise had sworn to keep secret.

Nor could she confide in Ninette. The events of last summer had left her lady companion no less afraid of the reputed sorceress.

At that moment, more than ever, Elise had wished for the freedom of the military camp. If only she could talk with Firekeeper or Derian or Doc! Firekeeper, however, was gone, apparently in answer to a summons from the wolves—an odd thought Elise shied from thinking about too much, for it threatened her sense of the natural order of things.

Then Elise had felt happier when she recalled that both Derian and Doc would be attending the wedding. They were not in the wedding party, but surely she could speak to them at the reception, alert them to her suspicions—vague as they were—and ask them to help her keep an eye on Lady Melina.

Now, with the coming of morning, anticipation chased away the nightmare. Elise swung her long legs to the cold floor, grateful for the fire already burning on the hearth.

She rung for her maid, eager to start dressing, as if preparing for the event could make it come the sooner.

K
ing Allister stood thinking about the arrangements that had been made for wedding security, fidgeting slightly as his body servant brushed his trousers and put a final polish on his boots. In the next room he could hear Pearl talking to the twins as they prepared for the wedding—an intricate waltz involving not only the three participants but what seemed to be a small army of maids and seamstresses.

The little girls were caught up in an emotional whirl that was half-fear, half-excitement. They had spent all morning the day before being fitted for their new gowns, had attended the banquet, and then had insisted on attending much of the ball. Consequently, they were now overtired and edgy.

They were also nervous about how they would measure up when compared with the—to them—sophisticated Shield sisters. Citrine was close enough to their own age not to worry them much. She was also a sweet child. Ruby and Opal, however, awed them from the heights of fourteen and seventeen years.

It didn't help matters that only the previous afternoon Lady Melina had finally given her word that Ruby and Opal would winter in Revelation Point Castle along with—at their mother Zorana's insistence—their cousins Deste and Nydia Trueheart.

Allister didn't quite understand why Minnow and Anemone were so anxious about processing in company with the three Shield sisters. After all, the twins could claim experience the others could not.

Pearl had laughed indulgently when he asked her what was the source of the problem.

"Minnow and Anemone knew then that no one would compare them to Lady Elise—she's a young lady of eighteen while they are only twelve. Lady Blysse is closer to their age but still enough older to be in another class."

"And," Allister had chuckled, "she is Lady Blysse. But," he added, remembering, "though Ruby is just a couple years older than our girls, Opal is nearly the same age as Elise."

"True." Pearl sighed. "Age is only part of the problem. Lady Elise is as unaffected as one could hope—especially given that she is heir apparent to a barony. Oh, she has her flighty moments, but most of the time, she's a reasonable girl. Probably that same frequent access to the king's castle that her cousins twit her about gave Elise a realistic sense of her own importance.

"Opal and Ruby, however, are quite affected. They are polished dancers and trained courtiers. Their mother made certain that if they couldn't haunt their great-uncle's castle, they would be frequent guests at the Gyrfalcon ducal residence. They at least pretend to a solid sense of their own importance—so much so that the pretense has become a part of them."

"Snobs," Allister said.

"Snobs," Pearl agreed, "without a real reason to be snobbish. All their claim to importance rests on relationships—and perhaps a touch of the not completely wholesome aura that clings to their mother."

After hearing this, Allister resolved to make a great fuss over the twins when they emerged from the ladies' bower and, indeed, it was not difficult to do so.

Although originally, the bridal party was to wear the same gowns to both weddings, the assassination attempt had made this impossible. Sapphire's gown had been completely ruined, as had Lady Elise's. Even the twins' gowns had been spattered with blood.

This led to a difficulty, for the augmented bridal party already had gowns made to match that made for Lady Elise. Fast post-riders had confirmed that enough of the expensive material remained to make a new gown on a similar pattern for Elise, but not for the twins—even if wearing Hawk Haven's colors would have been appropriate.

There simply had not been sufficient of the gold-hued silk for the underdress left to duplicate the twins' original gowns; the material had been imported from New Kelvin by Valora when she was still Gustin IV and forgotten when she had departed. Nor would the strongly patterned green brocade look as elegant without the gold silk to balance it.

Pearl had gone into conference with her favorite dressmaker and they had worked out a compromise. The underdress was to be made of a pale yellow fabric onto which were appliquéd wherever the underdress would show fantastical sea creatures cut from the original gold silk. With something to balance the sea-green brocade, the rest of the bolt could be put to use—although Allister understood that it had taken some clever cutting on the part of the seamstresses to eke out enough fabric.

"I like these dresses so much better," he said, beaming at the girls. "The softer yellow brings out the roses in your cheeks."

Minnow tried to maintain her dignity, spinning so he could see the whimsical creatures decorating the undercoat. Anemone was less concerned about such things. She hugged him, causing his body servant to swallow a sigh as she crushed the king's own elegant attire.

Pearl joined them last, allowing the girls an uninterrupted moment with their father while her maid carefully set her crown in place among her elegantly styled tresses.

Although her gown had been ruined as well, Pearl, at least, had not needed to match anyone. A court gown from her existing wardrobe sufficed, but determined not to have Bright Bay look poor in Hawk Haven's eyes, the queen had spent much of the journey out stitching tiny pearls onto the chosen gown's bodice and skirt. Her hours of labor in the jolting carriage had resulted in a shimmering confection of white over rose that enhanced her own warm coloring.

Allister felt unreasonably proud of his family—unreasonable because he knew better than anyone that gem-encrusted gowns and crowns did not make queens and princesses, but proud because these honors were gracing his women.

A bell chiming summons as his valet set his own crown in place saved the king from saying anything embarrassingly sentimental.