A Posse Of Princesses Part 11

Oh, wouldn't that make things much better! Remembering with painful clarity what she had said to Lios the last time she saw him, Rhis felt the tears burn down her cheeks as she was marched away.

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CHAPTER TWENTY.

Shera was uncharacteristically quiet that long, nightmarish day. Rhis walked next to her, slipping in and out of dream. The stone sang sweetly, as if urging her tired feet to carry her on: it seemed to want to get away as badly as she did.

Lios walked with seeming tirelessness up and down the line, encouraging people, talking to keep them awake. That is, he talked to everyone but Rhis and Shera. Neither of them spoke to him.

At sunset the tired group shuffled down the river bank far west of the city, where the river narrowed to white water. Here was an old row of rocks that formed a hopping bridge, as Taniva called it.

Under pouring rain, as the light faded, Rhis faced those uneven wet stones. She wished she could just waft herself over. And though she did not know any magic whatsoever, when she hopped to the first stone, she seemed to move slowly through the air, as if it were water and not full of raindrops, and landed lightly. She hopped to the next, and the nexta"and almost stumbled when Yuzhyu took a crowing breath.

"Rhis," she called. "Have you a spell on you?"

"A spell? Noa""

"You haff zis magic light on you, ooom." She was so excited her accent was back very strongly.

Rhis's body tingled. She closed her forearms across her middle and fought away the strange sense of lightness.

And it withdrew slowly, almost reluctantly.

She almost fell at the next hop, she was so heavy. Like she'd taken one of the boulders upon her back.

Three, two, one. And then a thin, strong hand reached down and pulled her up the steep riverbank, and she looked up tiredly into Glaen's narrow face.

He dropped her hand, reached past, and took Shera's hand in his grip. He pulled her up, but did not let go.

Shera said, "Glaen? What are you doing here?"

"You were gone," he said. Not You were gone, like the group was gone, but YOU were gone.

"Ia"we thoughta"" Shera sighed sharply. "We stupidly thought Iardith needed rescuing. Guess what?"

"We had a bet going on that. I won." Glaen drawled with the old irony. "Having bet five to one that she was the one who abducted Jarvas of Damatras."

Shera giggled, then choked on a sob.

"Hey. Don't start, or you'll get me at it," he said in a low voice. "We'll talk later. I hope you've saved up some of those insults," he added. He lifted his voice. "We got a hot meal all ready, so step up to the formal dining parlor as soon as you put on your jewels, your highnesses!"

Fast as they'd traveled, one of Lios's people had traveled even fastera"making sure of the trail, and warning the others. In grat.i.tude Rhis followed Shera up a trail into a clearing under spreading trees. The welcome glow of firelight drew Rhis stronger than any mere magic. She allowed her saddle bag to thump to the ground, the tiranthe giving a discordant hum of strings. For a time she just stood there, the warmth of the fire beating gratefully over her numb face and hands, and causing faint curls of steamy smoke to rise from her clothes.

Hearing soft laughter, she looked around. The Vesarjans had set up tents; while she'd been in her reverie, someone had picked up her saddlebag and borne it away.

Reverie. She felt the weight of the magic stone on her mind, which caused a warning p.r.i.c.kle. She caught a fleeting memory: Sidal's face. Diamonds are much stronger than any other stone . . .

She forced herself to move, poking her head into the open tents until she recognized her own saddlebag.

She pulled the stone from her sash. It was strangely heavy. She could barely lift it. The singing changed to a high, skull-rattling whistle. But Rhis's memory of Sidal's warning voice was louder, and so, using the last of her strength, she shoved the stone into her saddlebag.

At once the singing lessened. Then it turned sweet again, a lovely chord so faint, so beautiful. If she just got closer, she coulda"

Gravel crunched under feet right outside her tent. She knew it was Lios. A rush of feelings chased through her as she backed out of the tent and straightened up.

"Rhis, are you still angry with me?" he asked.

He didn't mean the disastrous rescue plan. She knew he meant his masquerade. "I don't think so. I mean, I was, then I wasn't, then when I was, I think I was more mad at myself for saying those nasty things." There, it was out. And oh, she felt such relief!

"Perfectly understandable," Lios said promptly, and flashed his quick grin. "The poets maintain it's perfectly natural to throw blame around. Why, here I am, living proof. I blamed you for the fact that I was an arrogant fool, ignoring others' feelings with my witty *joke' that wasn't witty or even much of a joke. Yes, completely your faulta""

She shook with silent laughter, though the tears still weren't far away.

"So how about we make a pact: we let our blames smash into one another, fall to pieces, and vanish." He clapped his hands lightly. "There! Gone. I don't feel any blame toward you any more, not a speck. Do you feel any for me?"

"No," she said, and somehow all her pent-up regret and embarra.s.sment and anger were gone. She laughed, feeling much lighter inside.

"Good," he said. "Things are messy enough at home. Your words were great practice for what everyone else said when they found out. Hoo!" He gestured, his clothes jingling faintly.

"What's that noise?" Rhis asked.

Lios grinned. Then he flung his arms wide and hopped from toe to toe. "Isn't that a laugh?" He danced around in a circle. "Me in chain mail."

"You looka"" She wanted to say taller, but that wasn't quite right. Intimidating. But she didn't want to say that, either.

"Silly? It feels like walking around with your own personal mattressa"except sleeping on linked metal is not comfy."

"You said things are messy at home. I take it they were mad, too," she said tentatively.

"Why did I think it was a great idea? One good thing: I'll have to think really hard to come up with anything more stupid."

"Does Queen Briath know?"

"Oh, yes."

"Is shea""

"Angry? Yes." Lios turned his face up to the dripping branches overhead. Then brought his chin down. "But not about that so much as what I did after. Don't blame my mothera"there are reasonsa"but she doesn't really like me much. Still, she made me the heir. I worked hard for it. I really don't want to lose it all if I can possibly prevent it."

"But you came to rescue Iardith anyway?"

He sighed. "We came after you all. You saw Glaen, I know. Breggo is with the horses."

Rhis wondered for the first time if someone might have left behind a clue. At the sound of a familiar fluting voice, she suspected who might have left a note for her cousin.

She frowned. "It seemed such a good idea at the time."

And was grateful when he didn't gloat, or scold, or laugh. "How did you get away from that tower? That was a mighty stroke of genius, by the bye. I hope you'll do that a lot in the future. I also wish Iardith had seen you walk into camp just as we were going over our desperate rescue plan for the last time. It might even have impressed her. Or maybe not."

He'd seemed tireless from the distance she'd been careful to maintain, but up close, the firelight revealed marks under his eyes. Her heart lurched in its accustomed tread. "Ia"" For just a moment she hugged to herself the thought of keeping that impression of genius.

But she'd already had plenty to say about liars. "My sister," she said, discovering her voice had gone hoa.r.s.e. "Magic." She pointed to her ring. "In case."

He frowned in perplexity and worry. "Where are my wits? Come over to the fire. The food might not be courtly, but there's plenty. Actually, a couple of the boys make really good trail cornbread. And Andos was smart enough to grab a pot of honey in the scramble to leave Eskanda."

Talking in his low, pleasant voice, he described their journey, making it sound funny, like when he started outa"the mighty prince at the head of his n.o.ble minionsa"his mighty destrier skidded in a slimy puddle and he did a perfect somersault and landed face-flat in the mud. From then on one of the n.o.ble minions on a hill horse did the leading. But, tired as she was, Rhis sensed that he was hiding the anxious effort it really must have taken, especially since the boys did not have a map with Taniva's shortcuts.

He drew her toward the fire, where boys and girls sat on rocks and in a row along a fallen log, everyone busy with bowls and spoons.

Rhis was too tired to feel much of anything when the pretend Prince Lios appeared round the fire, twin flames reflected in his beautiful dark eyes as he smiled at her and handed her a bowl. "For you, the last of the honey," he said. "I'll never forget you were the only one to spare a fellow's feet."

"Don't. Remind us," Lios said quickly. His face was far ruddier than could be explained away by firelight. Then he bowed grandly, indicating a mossy rock. "Your throne, Princess?"

Rhis felt weak laughter. "Princess. We haven't done a single princess thing for so long." Except when the king of Damatrasa"

Shera gave a loud sigh. "It was stupid to come running up here," she admitted. "We don't even have Iardith, after all the trouble we went to!"

Rhis tasted the cornbread. It was delicious, the moreso with clover honey drizzled over it.

Lios sighed, staring down the bowl in his hands, and the untouched food. Rhis looked at his tired profile. She was glad that they were friends again, that she'd gotten past feeling angry and awkward and horrible. But getting past the awkwardness between them hadn't fixed everything. For the first time, she considered Lios's masquerade from his perspective, and what she saw made her feel awkward and anxious all over again. A lot of peoplea"his own mothera"seemed angry with him. Would they even be here if he had not traded places with Andos? Probably not. Though it was hard to say whether Iardith would have arranged her own abduction if the real Prince Lios had turned her down instead of the false one.

In fact it was hard to think at all past the singing chord in her mind. It seemed to have gotten louder. Being away from it had helped some, but now the singing was gaining in strength. The stone seemed to want to be moving, and its note was restless and anxious.

The rise of voices broke her reverie: she recognized Glaen and Shera arguing. Was it mock or real? She tried to concentrate on the words, but all she could make out was the rise and fall of their voices on the other side of camp, where they sat a little apart on a mossy log. Maybe they didn't know themselves if it was real or mock anger, she thought sleepily, as she slid off her rock, folded her arms over the stone, and just leaned her forehead on her hands. Just for a momenta"

"Up! Up!"

Breggan ran through the camp, his chain mail jingling at every step. "We have to ride out!"

Heads popped upa"many people had fallen asleep right where they'd been sittinga"lamps were lit.

"They're up on the high road," someone reported.

"Who?" Yuzhyu appeared, hair wild, a lamp swinging in her hand.

"The Damatrans," Breggan said. "They're after us."

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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR.

Rhis meant to be dignified and proper, like Elda had trained her to be, but the moment Lios walked in, his brown eyes anxiously scanning her face, she flew straight into his arms.

They locked each other in a tight hug. All she could think about was the joy that made her feel lighter than the Singing Stone at its most powerful, as she listened to his hearbeat thundering next to her ear.

"Tut-tut!" The queen cleared her throat.

Lios and Rhis sprang apart. Lios tugged at his tunic, which was a fine thing made of heavy silk, embroidered with chains of laurel leaves, and belted with a gemmed sash. What drew her attention was how nice he looked in it. His brown hair was tied back simply, just like when he pretended to be a scribe.

"You look so . . ." she began, hands swooping like b.u.t.terflies.

"Princely? Scribely?" Lios grinned ruefully. "Silly?"

Rhis shook her head on each. "You look like you," she said, and then blushed because who else would he look like?