Part 9 (1/2)

”My lord, you know we can't do that,” Flyndan told him as Kel served hot cider to the men. ”Things are busy at the palace. I'm sure his majesty wants us there.”

”Exactly the reason I want to go south,” retorted the Knight Commander. ”Me dressed in silk and velvet and ermine like a players' bear, while you carouse in the city. You don't have matchmaking mothers after you. Me? I'm a hive and they're bees. Kendrach won't turn away a hundred extra swords, not with the Carthakis still fighting over Emperor Kaddar's rule. In Pearlmouth we can help with flooding in the southern Drell, or Tyran smuggling.”

”So get married and lose the mothers,” Flyn replied without sympathy. ”You're the only one who can marry and stay in.”

”I don't want to,” Raoul said flatly.

”Sir, think of the rest of us,” Dom said pleadingly. ”There's the Midwinter parties, and not all mothers look down their noses at younger sons - ”

”At least, not younger sons with money,” quipped Lerant, his nose buried in his cider.

”If you're so poor, how'd you finance that pretty dagger, eh?” Dom retorted, pointing at the ivory-hilted blade hanging from Lerant's belt. ”If that isn't Raven Armory work, I don't know what is.”

”I hear the two Yamani ladies with the princess aren't spoken for,” Lerant said, grinning at Dom.

”Thinking you might w.a.n.gle an introduction, Sergeant Domitan?”

”I hoped my good friend Kel might take pity on me,” Dom replied with a wink for her.

Kel's heart turned over in her chest, just as it did whenever he noticed her. It wasn't fair for Dom to be so good-looking, she thought, or worse, so nice.

”I still prefer - ” Raoul was saying when a sodden messenger walked into the tent. He clutched an oilcloth envelope in his hand. Kel took it, noting the seal: a crossed gavel and sword. Where had she seen that before?

The parchment inside, also sealed, was addressed to her knight-master. She handed it over. Raoul frowned, then broke the seal as Kel ushered the messenger outside.

She made sure he and his mount were cared for, then returned to the meeting tent. The men were leaving.

”Here's Kel,” Dom said. He chortled as he clapped Lerant on the back. ”Two exotic Yamanis, one for you, and one for me,” he told the younger man as they walked away.

”We're going to Corus?” Kel asked Raoul.

He gave her the parchment. ”They've found who paid those two rogues to kidnap your maid in April,” he told Kel. ”We're going back for the trial.”

eight.

THE PRICE OF A MAID.

The trip to Corus was hard. Outside the Royal Forest the rains that had turned the roads into rivers of mud became snow that deepened with every step. Warhorses were sent ahead of the riding horses to break the trail. Kel worried about that, but Peachblossom did his part without sharing his displeasure.

Some weeks before Kel had acquired a big leather pouch for the griffin to travel in during bad weather. Always worried about his health and how much cold and wet he could stand, she had lined the pouch with fleece to keep him warm. Inside the Royal Forest, even this wasn't enough. When she checked him at mid-morning on their second day, the small immortal sat huddled, feathers fluffed out. Gathering her courage, Kel unwound her thick wool scarf, unb.u.t.toned the heavy quilted coat issued by the quartermaster, and opened the top of her fleece-lined jerkin. She took the griffin from its pouch with gloved hands, thought a prayer, and slid him into the front of her jerkin between the fleece and her wool s.h.i.+rt.

”If you savage me, it's back to the pouch for you,” she informed her guest, s.h.i.+fting him so his head poked out of her jerkin and coat. The griffin's answer was to tug his head inside the jerkin. Kel reb.u.t.toned her coat and put her scarf on again, leaving a small opening so the griffin could breathe. Either he did not want to return to the pouch or he was so cold he didn't want to do anything at all, even draw Kel's blood. He remained inside her clothes for the rest of the trip.

During the slow ride Kel had time to remember the events of last April. Her old rage at the injustice of it returned. Someone had paid thugs to kidnap Lalasa the night before Kel was to take the great examinations. After holding Lalasa - and Jump, who had refused to leave her - all night, the kidnappers had taken her to the top of Balor's Needle, the tallest structure in the palace. They left her bound, gagged, and blindfolded on the exposed observation platform. Jump was tied up there, too.

If Kel searched for them, she risked being late to the tests. The rules were clear: pages who were late would have to repeat at least one year, perhaps all four, of their page terms, depending on how late they were. The one who'd paid for the kidnapping had bet that Kel would do her duty by Lalasa and Jump and search for them, then give up her dream of a knight's s.h.i.+eld rather than repeat her page years. If Kel had left the matter to people who didn't owe Lalasa protection, like the palace Watch, the whole world would learn she had s.h.i.+rked her duty.

As if that weren't bad enough, the kidnappers, or the one who paid them, had waited until Kel walked onto the observation platform, then locked the door to the inside stair of the tower. Their employer knew Kel's terrible fear of heights. Lalasa, Jump, and Kel were forced to descend the outer stair. With Lalasa's help Kel had done it, and lost her fear of heights as well.

The actual kidnappers were caught by the palace dogs before they left the grounds. Now the Watch had found the kidnappers' employer. Kel wanted to see his face. She wanted Lalasa to get justice after being terrorized for no better reason than she worked for the wrong person.

They reached their headquarters in a winter twilight two days after the trial started. Lalasa and her close friend Tian were already waiting for them, seated on a bench in the hall outside Raoul's and Kel's rooms. They took one look at the snow-soaked, weary knight and squire and went into action. They sent orders for hot water, tubs, and food for humans and animals. Then they swept into Raoul's and Kel's rooms. As the dazed pair watched, they lit candles, built fires in every room, put out fresh clothes, and began to strip Raoul and Kel of their wet things. Only when they reached underclothes did Raoul recover enough to retreat to his own dressing room to await the arrival of his bath.

Kel watched, too exhausted to protest, as she settled the griffin on his platform and set it by her fire. Technically Lalasa was no longer her maid, and Tian had never been in her service, but it was so nice not to have to do anything but what she was told. At last Kel settled into a tub full of hot water to soak off the road's grime. Lalasa fed the sparrows and Jump, and directed the wing's servants at setting out food in Raoul's dining room.

They couldn't get either woman to share supper, but Lalasa and Tian agreed to join them in cups of hot cider before the hearth in Raoul's study.

”How far has the trial come?” Raoul asked the two young women.

Lalasa smoothed her neat white linen ap.r.o.n with fingers that trembled. ”The men have given their evidence,” she said quietly. ”They followed the man who hired them in case he chose not to pay them after. I do not properly understand why it took so long for this man to be captured, but they hold him now in the waiting room reserved for n.o.bles.”

Raoul shook his head. ”I bet he was holed up on his estates and didn't come out before now. The Crown's having a lot of trouble reducing that set of n.o.ble privileges. On his own lands, a n.o.ble is untouchable.”

”Excuse me, my lord,” Tian said quietly, ”but why did he leave, then? Surely he did not need to do so - ”Unless he wished to earn his knighthood,” Lalasa interrupted, her voice hard. She looked at Kel. ”He has not been named, but servants talk. Sir Paxton of Nond has attended each day. So too has Ebroin of Genlith, who is the Corus steward and representative of Lord Burchard of Stone Mountain.”

When Kel saw who the n.o.ble culprit had to be, she almost laughed. Paxton of Nond was the knight-master of Joren of Stone Mountain, Kel's old foe. Of course it would be Joren. He'd pretended he had changed as a squire. She had wondered if that were so. Now she knew.

”His fathers steward?” murmured Raoul, as much to himself as to the three young women. ”Not his father?”

Tian coughed delicately. ”I heard one of the Stone Mountain men-at-arms say the old lord refuses to treat this as if it means anything.”

”That sounds like the old stiff-rump,” said Raoul. ”If arrogance were shoes, he'd never go barefoot.” He looked at Kel. ”You don't seem surprised.”

”I'm angry” Kel replied, her voice soft, one fist clenched. The others stared at her, startled. Kel rarely showed temperament of any kind. ”Whatever was bad there, it was between me and him. He didn't care about Lalasa or Jump. He didn't care who got hurt, so long as he could fix me. And to put a smile on his face, and tell me how I might get a husband, when he was groping for a plan like this...!” She got to her feet, unable to sit any longer. ”Lalasa, Tian, thank you. My lord? If you'll excuse me, I need to think a bit.”

Raoul nodded. ”Kel...”

She bowed to him and retreated to her rooms, closing the door firmly behind her.

Joren, she thought, clenching her fists. This time he's gone too far. He'll pay for it. The Crown will see to it he does. Lalasa and Jump will have justice. And when it's over? He can pay some blood to me, when all the legal chants and dances are done.

Forcing herself to sit quietly in Duke Turomot of Wellam's courtroom, Kel wondered if the withered-persimmon look on the Lord Magistrate's face was permanent. Perhaps it was. He had been sour in the spring, when he'd announced that because someone paid ruffians to make Kel late to the big exams, she would be allowed to take them alone. Now that she thought of it, he'd never smiled during the year-end exams, either. So it wasn't just this case that had turned his expression pickle-sour, though it made her insides feel like he looked.

Kel watched Turomot from the bench reserved for the wronged party. She had Lalasa on her right; Jump sat between them on the floor. Lord Raoul was a solid bulwark on Kel's left.

Behind them sat Kel's parents, her brother Inness, Tian, and Lalasa's uncle Gower. Neal, Cleon, and Prince Roald, who had arrived from Port Legann, were there. Lord Wyldon of Cavall came. Kel had expected him: the training master had taken the kidnapping personally.

Across the aisle was Paxton of Nond, Joren's knight-master, a tired, anxious-looking man in his early thirties. On his right was a sleek, dark-haired man in his forties, elegant in gray tunic and hose. Lalasa murmured that he was the Stone Mountain steward, Ebroin of Genlith. With him was an advocate in a white overrobe and a large black skullcap; he was white-haired, mustached, and clever-looking.

”Master Advocate Muirgen of Sigis Hold,” Raoul whispered when Kel asked. ”He's very good - the best money can buy.”

”There's little he can do when everybody knows Joren is guilty,” Kel said, her own voice as soft as his.

Raoul frowned and opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off when Duke Turomot struck a bronze disk with a polished granite ball. Everyone rose for the prayer to Mithros, then sat in a rustle of cloth.

Duke Turomot scowled at Kel. ”These proceedings are a matter of law, not of n.o.ble privilege. Should you have challenges to issue, make them elsewhere. We - ”