Daughter Of The Lioness - Trickster's Choice Part 22

"I swear to you, this is temporary," Bronau said, his gray eyes intent on Sarai.

"I don't know if I can bear a separation, but this is our grand chance. Hazarin is my friend. He'll recall your family from this desolation, and he'll speak for me to Mequen. Then I can court you in the proper manner, not in this hide-in-the-corner way."

"Speak to Papa now," Sarai pleaded.

Bronau shook his head. "When I have only my name and little more? Mequen would be a fool to let me have you when there are wealthier men who can offer you proper estates and all that your loveliness deserves. But if Hazarin grants me the things he has always claimed will be mine when he comes to the throne, then I won't be a second son; I'll be a wealthy man in my own right. I will dress you in pearls, then, and little else." He embraced her again.

This time when they stopped to breathe, Sarai told Bronau, "You'll find some other woman at court, I know it. One who's sophisticated, and rich. You'll forget all about an ignorant girl like me."

"You are wrong. I will not ask for your promise now, but you will see I mean what I say," Bronau told her. "Give me some token of yours, to keep near my heart."

Aly twiddled her thumbs. She tried to remember the pa.s.sionate speeches that had been addressed to her. Had they been this nonsensical? Would she have swallowed them?

Perhaps when I was twelve, she thought, then grinned. Being the daughter of the Lioness and of a spymaster, she hadn't been romantic even then, well before she'd had extensive dealings with the people who made up her father's world. For a moment she saw Nawat's face in her mind's eye. He would never say such things to her, or to any girl!

She banished Nawat's face from her thoughts and watched the lovers. Bronau was tucking the citrine drop Sarai wore as a pendant into his belt pouch. There were more kisses, more avowals of undying pa.s.sion. When they heard the duke in the distance, calling Bronau, Sarai fled through the rear entrance to the garden.

Aly kept to the base of the keep wall as she followed the girl.

Sarai waited for her on the keep's front steps. She sat there, head propped on her hands, staring at the activity around the barracks and the torches that lit the darkness. Aly sat beside her without a word.

"I wouldn't have done it if I hadn't known you'd be there," Sarai remarked without looking at Aly. Her lips were swollen with Bronau's kisses. "Knowing you're watching helps me to keep my head. Otherwise I might well end up on the gra.s.s with my skirts around my waist, like those maids he tumbles."

"He seems very pa.s.sionate," Aly said idly, running her fingers through her cap of hair.

Sarai sighed. "He kisses so much better than the boys in Rajmuat."

"Doyou want to marry him?" Aly wanted to know.

"I'm not sure." Sarai frowned. "I daydream about it, but it is just a dream.

Papa and Winnamine aren't sure of him. That has to weigh with me."

"They're his friends. They ought to know," Aly pointed out.

"Well, he's leaving tomorrow. I won't have to worry about it for a while," Sarai remarked, and sighed. "Maybe I'll see if that handsome Nawat has decided to be interested in me yet. He's only a commoner, and an odd one at that, but it might be fun, teaching him how to kiss."

Aly scowled as the other girl stood and went inside. She wasn't sure that Sarai ought to practice kissing on someone who might not realize it was just a form of amus.e.m.e.nt. Worse, what if Nawat fell in love with Sarai? Aly knew that Sarai was very much aware of her position as a n.o.ble. She would flirt and have fun, but when her father reminded her of her duty to her family, Sarai would do it. She would marry for the betterment of her family.

Aly decided Nawat had to be warned. She told herself that she didn't want that innocent heart of his broken by a n.o.ble beauty trying her wings. Aly refused to admit that she had any personal reason to warn him. It occurred to her, briefly, that she had been much like Sarai back at home, flirting with boys and men just because she was bored and liked kisses. The thought was not a comfortable one.

No one expects a woman busy at her sewing to pay attention to what's being said around her. Never mind if a man's mother and sisters showed them they heard everything while they st.i.tched, he'll still think a woman who plies her needle saves all her brains for the work. You're a far better spy hemming sheets than if you clank with daggers.

-From a letter to Aly from her father, when she was fourteen

12.

THE MAGE OF POHON.

Aly rose at her usual hour the next day, but instead of immediately leaving with her goats, she waited. When Bronau's party rode out she collected her herd and followed. She had resigned herself to the fact that the men were likely taking secret communications with them. These were not merchants, who could be frightened by hooded warriors. Aly didn't worry about any report Veron might smuggle out with Bronau's company. With a new king on the throne, the royal agents throughout the Isles would await instructions from their masters before they made any reports that might offend the new government.

Aly tracked the prince and his group to the road out of Tanair, watching them until even their dust was gone. She silently wished them a dangerous voyage and death at sea, then took her goats on to graze. When Aly and the goats reached Ekit and Visda, she found that Nawat, Ulasim, and Junai waited there along with the shepherds. Ulasim was already riding a horse, while Junai held the reins for three mounts, including the mare Cinnamon.

"Did you sigh over the last of his horse's droppings?" Ulasim wanted to know, smirking. "You watched him go for long enough."

"Aly doesn't like him," Nawat pointed out. "Aly thinks he will come back and try to eat the nestlings."

Aly grinned at the crow-man and looked at the two raka. "So lovely of you to pay a call," she told them. "I wish you'd sent your messenger ahead, so I might have prepared refreshments."

"You will have your jokes," replied Ulasim. He looked like a bronze raka idol in the saddle. "Mount up. We go to Pohon. My mother has agreed to meet us-that is, you. It's going to be a long morning."

Junai revealed the thinnest sc.r.a.p of a smile, the first sign of any emotion Aly had ever seen on her face. "You have no idea how long," she said.

Aly raised an eyebrow at her bodyguard. "Your grandmother's that charming, is she?"

"Come see for yourself," Ulasim said. He looked at Nawat, who was idly picking insects from a tree's bark and eating them. "Your presence will not help. I told you so back at Tanair."

Nawat bird-shrugged. "Mages do not worry me."

Aly clumsily mounted Cinnamon.

"There is no need to keep doing that," Ulasim told her wearily. "Lokeij says you can ride well."

"Then keep that to yourselves," Aly retorted. "It suits me that our a.s.sociates not be aware of all my skills." To Nawat she said, "You were scarred by a mage once. Shouldn't that make you wary?"

He cracked a beetle between his teeth. "It was the Pohon mage who did it," he said. "She makes funny noises when her sheets are in the mud." He looked up at Aly. "The red ants are spicy. Would you like one?" He offered her an ant with his normal cheerful smile, but the look in his eyes was that of the human male she'd seen the night he had kissed her.

Horrified, Aly realized she was blus.h.i.+ng. Shenever blushed. "I thank you, no,"

she replied, turning Cinnamon. To the two raka she said, "Let's go, then. Visda, Ekit, I'm sorry, but the goats-"

"We are ready," Visda said with a grin. "Have fun with the mage."

Aly followed Ulasim and Junai to the road. "This mage," she asked the raka, "she's decided she will join you?"

Ulasim snorted. Today he dressed as a raka in a homespun wraparound jacket, embroidered in dark colors, and a highland raka's leggings. His long hair was tied back in a horsetail. "She has only said she will talk to you, and I wouldn't put it beyond her to change her mind. Do you know how annoying it is that you can do that?" he asked Nawat, who trotted along next to them, his bare feet scarcely making a sound on the dirt road.

"I am running." Nawat's voice was as relaxed as if he sat on his workbench, fletching arrows. "It is not as good as flying, but it is exercise."

"Yes, but-does he bother you?" Aly asked the two raka. To Nawat she explained, "I don't want to make any raka uncomfortable, you see, and maybe you would."

"We are cousins," said both Nawat and Junai. They halted and stared at one another. Both looked startled and pleased.

Finally Junai said, "Everyone knows what he was. And crows and raka are both the children of the crow G.o.d and G.o.ddess. Our legend says the first humans were hatched out of the great crow nest. We made a mistake in the egg and shed our feathers."

"Then there have been other crows who turned into people?" asked Aly. She couldn't help but think thatsomeone could have mentioned that earlier.

"Rarely," said Ulasim. "But there are tales, just as there are tales of those raka who turned to crows rather than die. Do we stand here all day, or do we get on with things?" He sent his horse down the road. Aly and Junai followed, Nawat trotting along between the two women.

"Am I no longer the goatherd?" Aly wanted to know.

"Her Grace says you need to be able to move," replied Ulasim. "Our ladies wish to ride far and meet their people. Her Grace wishes to spend more time at the castle, minding the younger children and preparing the household for winter. You are to bear Saraiyu and Dovasary company, with their bodyguards, and Junai."

Aly nodded. That would work. As always, she was grateful to the d.u.c.h.ess for seeing what was necessary. "Now, this mage is your mother?" she asked. "Junai's grandmother Ochobu?"

"She hates luarin," replied Junai as her father's face went stony. "She has agreed to talk, not to help. That will be a matter for your persuasion, unless you intend to have the G.o.d command her."

"If I were you, I would call on the G.o.d," Ulasim informed Aly dryly. "She is sworn to him. She must obey. You? We will be lucky if she does not scorch you.

But you insisted on seeing her, and she is a powerful mage, powerful enough to guard this entire plateau."

Aly drew herself up in the saddle, miffed. She was the daughter of George Cooper and the Lioness, after all. It was a pretty sad thing if she had to depend on a G.o.d to step in whenever a little diplomacy would do the trick. "Have we brought presents for her? Sometimes a properly offered gift appeases even the most stubborn people."

"It would not appease her," Ulasim replied, grim-faced. "She is a cross-grained, bitter, cruel old hermit."

"She says the sweetest things of you, too," said Junai."I think you are both too proud to apologize, Father." To Aly she said, "He's right about a gift, though.

Grandmother would only make it explode in your hands."

"Here," said Nawat, reaching a hand to Aly. "She might like this." He pa.s.sed her something hard.

Aly looked at the thing he'd given her. It was a rock, some kind of granite, bright and sparkling in the sun. "Nawat," she asked wearily, "why have you given me a stone?"

"It is sparkly," Nawat informed her gravely. "Females like sparkly things, just as crows do."

Junai made a noise that sounded very like a snort to Aly.

Aly sighed. She ought to have known that his reason didn't make sense to her in the least. "Not human females, Nawat."

"That's not exactly true," Ulasim told her in a choked voice that sounded as if he was trying not to laugh. "Rubies, emeralds, diamonds, all of those things sparkle, and human females love gems."

Aly shot the footman a look that said,Don't confuse him! She tucked the rock into her belt purse. "I'll explain later," she told Nawat, who watched her with worried eyes. "Thank you for trying to help me."

When they rode around the walls that encircled Pohon, Aly relaxed. She was not sure the villagers had forgotten her last visit. Instead Ulasim and Junai led her and Nawat deeper into the forest, following a narrow road. They pa.s.sed into the lands behind the village, riding under tall, ancient trees alive with birds and squirrels. It was a perfect summer day, not too hot even on the open road, with gentle breezes carrying the scents of pine and leaves to Aly's nose.

At last they reached the top of a ridge that looked down into a small, cuplike hollow. At its bottom was a rough log house, hung about with charms, signs, and wind chimes. A creek raced past it, shaped with stone by human hands to form a deep pool before it reentered the trees. A line of drying clothes hung in the suns.h.i.+ne behind the house, a homely touch for a mage's domain. A pair of cats lounged in front of the door, watching them with eyes turned amber by the sun.

Nawat grinned. "It's was.h.i.+ng day," he observed.

Aly frowned at him. "Leave the wash alone. You're not a crow anymore."

"No," he replied. "I am a mateless human." He sighed, trying to look forlorn.

"Stop that," Aly warned. She kneed Cinnamon down the path toward the cottage.

Halting in front, she and her companions dismounted.

A tiny creature flew over to sniff Aly. She sighed in wonder. It was a miniature flying horse, a bay mare, bat-winged and perfect, its body no larger than her hand. "Where did you come from?" she asked softly.

"They nest here," replied Ulasim as other winged horses flapped around them. A piebald stallion glided over to Nawat. "The old woman puts up with any nonsense if it doesn't come from a human being," the raka continued bitterly. "Sometimes I think-"

He was interrupted by the piebald stallion. The tiny creature reared and neighed, pawing the air in fury.

"Maybe he remembers me," Nawat remarked. The stallion flew at him, hitting him in the face with his wings. "Stop it! My mother had nestlings of her own to feed!"

"You took one of their nestlings?" asked Aly, horrified.

"Several," replied Nawat, trying to s.h.i.+eld his face. Two more winged horses flew in to attack him. "They make a very-ouch!-good meal for hungry young!"

"Why did you come if you made an enemy of the little kudarung?" Ulasim wanted to know. He and Junai backed off, leading their mounts away from the small winged creatures. "Is thereanyone hereabouts who likes you?"

Nawat yelped as four more winged horses swooped at him from a clump of bushes, where they seemed to gather. Aly giggled as they dove at him, kicking, biting, pulling his hair and clothes, smacking him with their wings. "I thought they wouldn't remember!" he cried in answer to Ulasim. "It's been weeks, and I was a crow!"

Aly dismounted and handed her reins to Junai, then ran laughing to Nawat's rescue. "Stop that," she ordered as more of the small winged horses swarmed out of the brush. "He isn't a crow anymore." She gently tried to bat them away from Nawat. "How did you even recognize him? He's not here to take nestlings." She grabbed the piebald stallion as he tried to nip at Nawat's face. "He's quite a reformed-ow!" The tiny stallion twisted in her grip and fastened his teeth in one of her fingers, drawing blood. Aly dropped him. The stallion flew at her face. Aly squeaked and ducked.

More of the winged horses appeared in answer to their fellows' enraged calls.

Half of them descended on Aly, the rest on Nawat.

"I think they believe you are a crow, too," Junai called as the still-amused Aly protected her head with her hands. The creatures bit her hands and gouged her head with hooves and teeth, battering her with their wings.

"Will youhelp us instead of gawping?" demanded Aly, trying not to laugh. She didn't want to hurt the tiny immortals, but their a.s.saults were painful, and she had business here. She could hardly impress Ochobu Dodeka if she was too busy fighting off winged pests with long memories.

"But it's the most amusing thing I've seen all year," Ulasim replied in a strangled voice. Speaking appeared to destroy his control; he collapsed in laughter. Junai simply watched, a tiny smile on her usually still face.

Aly flapped her open hands, trying to push the small kudarung away. Nawat covered his head with his arms. "They're clever, aren't they?" he asked Aly, wincing. "To know I'm a crow even in this shape."

"I don't care how clever they are," Aly replied. She yelped as a kudarung bit the rim of her ear. Grabbing the animal, she tried to tug it free, but it refused to let go. Not wanting to hurt it or tear her ear, she had one course of action left to her. She ran for the stream, and dove into the part that had been shaped to form a deep pool.

The water, coming from the mountains, was bone-achingly cold even on this summer day. She lunged to the surface and gasped, her teeth chattering. Water sprayed all over her as Nawat jumped in, shedding kudarung as they saw where he was bound.

Aly swam to the edge of the pool. She was about to climb out onto the land when a small flock of kudarung attacked, driving her underwater. She found Nawat there, forced under the surface as she had been to escape their tormentors. They shot up for a deep breath of air before the immortals descended. On her next trip for air, Aly looked around quickly. There, on the bank near the shallow upper stream, she saw a likely weapon. She ducked underwater and swam toward it, her head aching from the chill and the kudarungs' a.s.sault. When she came up again, the large branch was a yard away. She lunged and seized it, wading into the shallow water above the pool. There she stood, batting her persecutors away with the branch.

Nawat joined her, to huddle at her side. "They are not very forgiving," he observed.

Aly lifted a foot and shoved him back into the pool.

Above the shrill, furious calls of the kudarung she heard laughter as harsh as any crow's bawl. She turned to find its source and saw an old woman barely five feet tall. The newcomer was dressed like the highland raka women in a bright wraparound jacket and long skirt, both thickly embroidered. The fire of a magical Gift shone from beneath her skin in Aly's Sight. The old woman had a long nose, eyes like upside-down crescents framed by wrinkled flesh, and a mouth as straight as Junai's. White locks combed to either side sprang from her hairline at the center of her forehead. The rest of her short, curling hair was the color of steel shot with threads of black and white. Her laughter had a jeering quality.

"Ochobu Dodeka, is this how you treat your guests?" Aly demanded, swinging her branch at the kudarung. "We're here to talk to you. Call these things off before I hurt one!"