Arrow's Fall (24 page)

“I know it’s dangerous, but no more dangerous than any number of other missions Dirk and I pulled off. And we have to find what his long-term plans are, if there’s any chance at all to do so.”

“I know, I know,” Talia shivered. “But Kris, I don’t like it. I feel like I’m walking into a darkened room, knowing that as soon as I tight a candle I’ll discover I’ve walked into a den of serpents and the door’s been locked behind me.”

“You’re the ranking Herald, little bird. Do we go on and find out exactly what the situation is and whether or not there’s immediate threat to the Kingdom, or do we head back to Selenay with what we know now—running like our tails are on fire and hope they can’t stop us?”

“How could we get back if they come after us?”

Kris sighed. “I wouldn’t give very good odds. What we’d have to do is cut across country, avoiding roads— unfamiliar country, I might add, and we’d have to go night and day.
Or
we send Rolan and Tantris back alone, with messages, get rid of our rather conspicuous uniforms, steal disguises, try to get back afoot. With accents that damn us and every ‘intelligencer’ in the country knowing our exact descriptions. Frankly, the odds are with playing stupid and bluffing our way out.”

“Could I pretend to be sick again?”

“Then they’d expect us to go straight to the capital and the King’s Healers, not head back to our Border.”

Talia shut her eyes and weighed all the possible consequences; then bit her lip, and steeled herself for the decision she knew she had to make.

“We go on,” she said, unhappily. “We haven’t got a choice.”

But when they met their escort just outside the capital at the end of a six-day journey from the Valdemar Border, Talia almost heard the click of the lock behind her.

They announced their arrival at the gates of the city, and were asked, courteously enough, to wait. After about an hour, spent watching the usual sort of foot-and-beast traffic pass in and out of the city, there was a blast of trumpets and the common folk vanished from the vicinity as if whisked away by a speil.

Talia had expected an official escort; she had
not
expected that they would be met by what amounted to a royal procession. For that was exactly what emerged from the city gates.

Prancing out of the gateway came a procession of dozens of brightly-bedecked nobles and their liveried attendants, all mounted on high-bred palfries.

Prince Ancar and his entourage rode at the head of it.

Talia had
definitely
not expected
him
—and from the very brief flash of surprise on his face, neither had Kris.

Ancar rode toward them through a double row formed by his mounted courtiers and his guards; it was all very staged, and meant to impress. It impressed Talia, but hardly in the way she assumed he intended. On seeing him for the first time, Talia felt like a cat that has suddenly been confronted by a viper. She wanted to arch her back, hiss, and strike out at him.

“Greetings, from myself, and my honored Father,” he said coolly, bowing slightly but not dismounting. “We nave come to escort the envoys of Queen Selenay to the palace.”

Talia was mortally certain that the “we” he used was the royal plurality, and noted that his horse was at least two hands higher than either Companion, allowing his head to be that much higher than theirs.

Gods—I don’t think he’s left anything to chance—

There was no superficial reason for the violent feeling of animosity that struck her; as they exchanged courtesies the Prince seemed perfectly amiable. He was darkly handsome with smooth, even features and a neat black beard and mustache. He spoke to them fairly enough and accorded them every honor. As he rode beside them, back into the city and toward the palace, he discoursed on neutral topics—the harvest to come, the recent spring floods that had occurred in both countries, his wish for continuing good relations between the two Kingdoms. All perfectly natural topics, and all spoken in tones of good-will.

None of this made the slightest bit of difference to Talia. There was something indefinably evil about the man, something cold and calculating, like a snake judging when it would be best to strike.

He was paying very little attention to Talia, who was riding with Kris between them; as if, because of her sex, she was not quite of an exalted enough station for him to bother with. That was all to the good; since he was busy directing his attention to Kris, she decided that this was no time for ethical quibbling; she would try to probe him. This was neither diplomatic nor particularly moral, but she didn’t much care. There was something lurking beneath the smooth, careful surface of this cultivated Prince, and she was determined to discover what it was.

She was stopped by a powerful shield—one unlike anything she had ever touched before. There were no cracks in it that she could discover, not by the most careful probing. Startled, she cast a surreptitious glance at Ancar; he continued his conversation without seeming the least disturbed. So
he
was not the one doing the shielding. Who was?

Then her sharp glance was intercepted by a nondescript man in gray riding to the left of the Prince. He looked at her with eyes like dead brown pebbles, then permitted himself a faint smile and a nod. She shivered, and looked hastily away.

They couldn’t reach the Palace grounds any too soon for Talia, who only wanted out of the Prince’s presence. When they reached the courtyard of the Palace the entire entourage dismounted and dozens of liveried grooms appeared to lead the horses away—and with them, their Companions. Shaken by the encounter with the Prince’s mage, Talia scanned the grooms quickly for any evidence of harmful intent.

Thank the gods—

To her relief there was nothing there but admiration for the beautiful creatures and the honest wish to make them comfortable. She tried to link with Rolan, and caught an impression of concern, but in the confusion it was hard to make out what the concern was for.

Kris began to say something—the Prince interrupted him before he’d even gotten a single syllable out.

“The Palace is quite remarkable,” said Ancar, a kind of glint in his eye that Talia didn’t understand and didn’t at all like. “You really
must
see it
all
.”

What could they do but consent?

And the Prince seemed determined that they see every inch of his father’s Palace, conducting them all over it himself. He kept himself at Kris’ side, and one of his ubiquitous toadies at Talia’s, effectively separating them. They couldn’t even signal to one another—and Talia was nearly stiff with apprehension before the enforced tour was over. Her anxiety, carefully concealed, redoubled every moment they spent in his presence, and she longed for one single moment alone with Kris. It almost seemed as if the Prince were deliberately attempting to prevent any contact between the two Heralds that did not take place under his gaze, for he kept them at his side until it was nearly time for the state banquet that was to welcome them.

At last they were left alone in their sumptuous suite.

Talia scanned about her for listeners, but could detect none. But then—could she if they were shielded?

Make discretion the better part, then.

“Lord of Light,” she sighed, “I didn’t think I could ever be so tired ...”

Hand-sign;
Trap—listeners?
She sat down on a couch, and patted the fabric next to her in invitation.

He took a seat next to her, and her hand. Squeezed.
Gift?

She squeezed back.
Shields?

His eyebrows arched in surprise.
How?

“Did you see that odd little man on the Prince’s right?” she asked.
Him.
“I wonder what on earth he could be.”
Shielded Ancar. Maybe more.

“Who knows? Some sort of tutor, maybe.”
Trouble
.

“Hm. I could use a little air.”
For true.

They moved to the open window, arms around one another, loverlike.

“Little bird,” Kris whispered in her ear, “There’s another problem—there aren’t enough guards visible here.”

Talia giggled and nuzzled his neck. “I’m not sure I understand you,” she murmured back.

He laughed, and kissed her with expertly feigned passion, “Look, Selenay is well-loved, so she keeps a minimum of guards about her for safety—but they’re still there, still visible. Alessandar is just as highly regarded, and I would expect to see about the same number of guards. I didn’t see them. If they’re not
in
sight, they must be
out
of sight. Why should he hide his guards? Unless he doesn’t know that they’re hidden—and if you can hide one, you can hide a dozen just as easily. I don’t like it.”

“Kris, please—” Talia whispered urgently. “I’ve changed my mind about staying. I think we should get out of here. Now. Tonight.”

“I agree; I think we’ve walked into a bit more than we can handle by ourselves.” He led her back to the couch, where they continued the mock-loveplay. “I’ve got no doubt now after seeing that magician and watching the way people react to Ancar that every one of the rumors is true. So we’d better leave tonight-—but not quite yet. I want to find out what’s going on with Alessandar first.” He stayed quiet for a moment, deep in thought, hands resting in the small of her back, and face buried in her hair. “I think we should send substitutes into the banquet and do some spying before we leave.”

“All right, but I’ll do the spying. If I unshield I’ll be able to detect people coming long before you would.”

“Could you tell if there’s a shielded spy watching us by the shield on him?”

“Alone—no.”

“I see what you’re getting at. Link—”

By linking their two Gifts, her Empathy and his Farsight, they were able to scan their entire vicinity for “null” areas. And discovered, to their mutual chagrin, that there
were
no spies, shielded or otherwise.

“Well—” he pulled away from her, embarrassed. “I certainly feel like a fool.”

“Don’t.” She ran her hands nervously through her hair, and smiled wanly at him. “Better we take the precaution needlessly. If we send in substitutes, won’t they be recognized?”

“No one from the Prince’s party will be at the banquet, remember? There won’t be anyone there who’s ever seen us. And if we use a couple of the servants there should be no problems. After all, no one ever looks at servants. The two they assigned to us should do. They’re enough like us in size and appearance that our uniforms will fit reasonably well. I’ll get their attention, and you deep-trance, and take them over.”

Talia shivered. She didn’t like doing this, but Kris couldn’t. His Gift of Farsight would do him no good in implanting a false personality. It was only by virtue of the fact that her Gift of Empathy was a particularly strong one that Talia could do it at all—this was normally a trick only Mindspeakers could manage.

Kris rang for the two who had been assigned to them. As he had pointed out, they were similar enough in height and build to the two of them that the uniforms should fit well enough to cause no comment.

The servants arrived, and with them, their baggage; Kris instructed them in the unpacking of the formal uniforms. While he engaged their attention, Talia put herself into deep-trance.

Forgive me
—she thought, then reached out and touched their minds—lightly—
there
—first the man, then the woman—

Kris caught them as they fell, easing them down onto the bed.

Talia insinuated herself carefully into their minds, sending their real selves into a kind of waking sleep.

Now—for the next part she would need help—

:Rolan?:

In a moment he was with her, still anxious, but in agreement with the plan, or at least as much of it as she was able to show him without being able to Mindspeak him in words instead of images.

Together they emplanted false personalities and memories in their two substitutes; he could do some things she couldn’t, she could make them
believe
that they were the foreigners. For the next several hours the servants would be a sketchy sort of Kris and Talia, and remain that way until they returned to these rooms after the banquet. Their behavior would be rather stilted and wooden, but the formal etiquette such occasions demanded would cover most of that.

Talia let Rolan go, and eased herself up out of trance, feeling very stiff, quite exhausted, and just a bit guilty.

“Is it—”

‘They’re ready,” she replied, moving her head around to ease the stiffness in her neck, and getting slowly to her feet. “Let’s get some clothes on them.”

They clothed the pair in the waiting forma! Whites as if they were dealing with two dolls, it being easier to handle them in the entranced state. Talia cut their hair in imitation of Kris’ and her own, and applied her skill with makeup to both of them. When she’d done, they bore at least enough of a superficial resemblance to the two of them to get them safely through the doors.

“All right.” Kris looked at her as they got the two substitutes on their feet. ‘Tm for the stables. It’s going to take a little time to find the Companions and their tack without being detected, if I can, I’ll get everything and get them ail saddled up. If you have the chance, you meet me at the stable doors.”