Bearers of the Black Staff: Legends of Shannara (19 page)

She leaned forward and looked down at her reflection in the waters of the pond. Her short-cropped red hair softened the angular features of her sun-browned face, and her startling blue eyes stared back out of the watery depths, watching as she watched, as if she had divided herself.

“Do you see anything you like?” a familiar voice asked.

It took a certain amount of effort, but she forced herself to look around as if it were the most casual of acts, smiling at Isoeld. The Queen wore soft yellows and pale blues and with her nearly white-blond hair and delicate features looked stunning.

“Not really,” Phryne replied, staring directly at the other.

To her credit, Isoeld smiled back, as if no insult had been given. “We none of us much care for the way we look, do we? Even if others sometimes do. Good morning to you, Phryne.”

“Good morning, Stepmother,” Phryne answered. She paused, taking in the basket the other woman carried over her right arm. “Off to the market for fresh fruits and vegetables?”

“No, off to work with the sick and injured this morning. The heal
ers say I bring smiles to the faces of their patients, and I am happy enough if I can do that.”

“Of course you are. My father says you bring a smile to his face just by walking in the room. I imagine you can do that for almost anyone, can’t you?”

Isoeld looked off into the trees a moment. “Why do you dislike me so, Phryne? What do you think I have done that makes you so unhappy with me?” She looked back quickly, shaking her head. “You know, I had no intention of having this discussion now, but suddenly I find I cannot put it off another moment.”

Phryne rose so that they were facing each other. “I don’t like it that you are taking my mother’s place in my father’s affections. I don’t like it that you are so quick to assume that you are entitled to be Queen in her place. I don’t like anything at all about the way you insinuated yourself into my father’s affections and took him away!”

It was out before she could think better of it, her anger rising instantly to the surface, released in a rush of vitriolic words. She stopped short of saying more, already knowing she had said too much.

“Why stop there, Phryne?” the other woman asked suddenly. “Do you think I am not aware of the rest? You don’t like it that I am so young and your father is so much older. You don’t like it that you think I am unfaithful to him and see another man behind his back. You don’t like it that he spends so much time with me and so little with you. Isn’t that right?”

Phryne compressed her mouth into a tight line. “Yes, that’s right.”

Isoeld nodded slowly, as if something important had been confirmed. “You have reason to feel as you do about some of what you’ve said, but not all. I have taken your mother’s place, but only because your father does not want to be alone. I am a comfort to him, but I will never replace your mother, even though you might see it that way. If I have taken your father away from you, it is not because I intended for that to happen, and you must speak to him about his neglect. I am Queen because he fell in love with me and for no other reason; I am lucky to be Queen but more so to be his wife.”

Phryne started to turn away, but the other woman grabbed her arm. “No, you let me finish! I can’t help that the age difference between us is so great, but age does not necessarily determine the depth
of a couple’s love for each other. I have no consort and I do not betray my marriage vows. I am aware of your suspicions; others have voiced them, as well. But I am faithful to your father. The first minister is a friend and nothing more. Your father knows this; if you speak to him about it, he will tell you so.”

She released Phryne’s arm and stepped back, her face stricken. She was crying, and Phryne wondered suddenly if perhaps she had been wrong about her. What she was seeing was genuine; Isoeld was all but broken. Phryne had an almost overwhelming urge to embrace her, to tell her she was sorry, that she would think better of her after this. But instead she looked down at her feet, avoiding the other’s eyes. She couldn’t quite manage an apology. She wasn’t ready to let go of the past just yet.

“We must put this behind us, Isoeld,” she said, needing to say something. “We must be better friends.”

Isoeld nodded quickly, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Yes, we must do that. We both love your father. That should be reason enough.”

“Yes,” Phryne agreed, “it should.”

Isoeld tightened her grip on her basket. “I have to go. Can we talk more later?”

“Of course. Anytime you wish.”

Phryne watched her walk away and wondered if maybe this was a turning point in their relationship.

T
WENTY MINUTES LATER
, she was standing in her father’s office, speaking to him as she had promised her cousins and the pair from Glensk Wood that she would. But even given the importance of what she was attempting and her efforts to concentrate on the business at hand, she could not stop thinking about her confrontation with Isoeld. Something in the way the other woman had spoken to her had touched her heart and made her believe. But to have been so wrong and so mean-spirited was difficult to accept, and she was struggling with it.

“My cousins Tasha and Tenerife wish to hike up into the mountains north to Aphalion Pass, Father. They have visiting them a boy and girl
from Glensk Wood, who are Trackers. They are sharing their skills and experience while here, and all of them want an outing where they can use those skills and that experience in a practical way. I was hoping you would give them permission to go.”

Her father was a man of average size and looks, the sort of man you might pass by without a second look. He had kind eyes and a pleasant, open smile, and he looked to be someone you might want for a friend. What set him apart was not immediately apparent. His voice, for instance, was deep and rich and compelling, and when he spoke of how the world was and how it needed to be and what was good for the people and the creatures that inhabited it, you believed him. More important, he believed, and it showed in his commitment to his service as King. Born into the royal family, a Prince since birth, he had always known that one day he would be King, and he had prepared himself. First Minister Teonette looked more the part—tall, strong-featured, and athletic—but it was her father who was centered and reliable and who instilled confidence in a way that few others could. While growing, he had observed how others reacted to his own father’s behavior and learned accordingly. But he had learned as well what it meant to win respect and admiration and gain real loyalty.

She was reminded of it now, as she was every time she stood before him, and the feeling generated was a mix of deep, abiding respect and love. Her father was a good and honorable man, and everyone who came in contact with him knew it.

He gave her a questioning smile. “And this was something they could not manage to ask me themselves?”

She shook her head. “No, Father, it isn’t that. They were perfectly willing to ask you, but I suggested it would sound better coming from me. I haven’t quite told you everything. I want to go with them.”

Oparion Amarantyne frowned. “Why would you want to do that?”

“For many reasons. I want to be a part of their adventure, and they have offered to let me accompany them. I want to learn something about tracking and scouting. They can teach me better than anyone. I am tired of sitting around in the city; I haven’t been anywhere in months. I need to do something, and I need to feel like it has meaning.”

“Your studies here have meaning.”

“My studies here are sedentary and boring. I am not saying they
lack importance in my education. I know they don’t. But I want practical experience, too. This is my chance to gain a little of that.”

Her father pursed his lips. “No wonder you didn’t want them to make this request. It would be easier for me to turn them down than you.”

“I didn’t want them to have to make my request for me. I thought it better to face you myself. I learned from you; if you have something you want, you should be the one to ask for it.”

Her father studied her face without speaking for a moment, then rose and walked to the window. With his back to her, he said, “I know you pretty well, Phryne, and I think maybe there is something else at work here. Is there?”

She hesitated, her mind racing. He expected an answer, but she couldn’t give him the one he was looking for. “You’re right, Father,” she said, making it sound like a reluctant admission. “There is something more. I thought I might not have to tell you everything; some things I like to keep to myself. But in this case maybe that’s not best. So I will tell you. It is this boy, the one from Glensk Wood.”

Her father turned back from the window. “What about him?”

“There’s something different about him. I don’t know what it is, but I want to find out. This is the best way. Here, in the city, that’s difficult. He is aware that he is an outsider. He sees how everyone treats me. But in the mountains, I think it will be different. I think I will be able to tell more about him. I want to do that.”

It was a game she had played with him all of her life. When she didn’t want him to know her reasons exactly, she would give him a variation that contained just enough truth to make him believe.

“You’ve met him before this, haven’t you?”

“Once, some time back.” She was making it all up as she went, enjoying the game. “Don’t you think I’m old enough for this?”

“A father never thinks a daughter is old enough for anything,” he said. “Nor do I want to know what you mean when you ask that question.” He shook his head. “You’ve grown up so quickly. I didn’t really see it. I think I was somewhere else when it happened. If your mother were here …”

He trailed off, then suddenly smiled at her. “She would be very proud at the way you’ve turned out. All right, Phryne. You’re old enough
that you don’t need me to tell you how to live your life. Go with your cousins and this boy.”

She walked over to him and gave him a hug and a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.” She hesitated. “I’ve got one more request of you. I would like you to promise me that you won’t speak of this to anyone until we return. Not even Isoeld.”

He put his hands on her shoulders and moved her back from him so he could look her in the eye. “Why do you mention Isoeld, Phryne?”

“Not Isoeld, especially. I didn’t say that. I said ‘not even Isoeld’ because she is closest to you. I’m asking that you speak of it to no one at all. The boy and the girl from Glensk Wood are here in spite of their own people. You know of the Children of the Hawk? Well, their Seraphic has forbidden them from coming here. But they came anyway. Their friendship with my cousins means something to them. Do you understand?”

“I think so. You would keep their presence a secret from those who would object to it?”

“Exactly. I don’t want to be the one responsible for revealing the extent of their defiance of the leader of the sect. I’ve told you because I trust your discretion.”

“But not Isoeld’s?”

“You are my father.”

He studied her face a moment, and she could read nothing in his dark eyes. Slowly, he nodded. “Fair enough. You have my word.” Suddenly his eyes narrowed. “This expedition—it isn’t dangerous, is it? You aren’t keeping anything from me? I wouldn’t agree to this if I thought there might be any risk involved.”

She had no idea if there was risk of any sort, but she hoped so. A little bit, at least. Of course, she wasn’t about to tell him that. “I’ll be safe. The twins will look after me.”

He nodded. “I’ll leave it at that, then. But be certain you tell them I intend to hold them accountable if anything bad happens. Sometimes those two can be reckless, and I don’t want them being so here.”

She gave him her most reassuring smile. “You know I wouldn’t do anything reckless.”

A bigger lie had never been told, but her father wanted to believe her so it was left at that.

THIRTEEN

T
HE LITTLE COMPANY FROM ARBORLON SET OUT
shortly after dawn on the following morning, heading west and north toward the towering peaks that cradled Aphalion Pass. They traveled down off the heights and back onto the lowland lake country of Eldemere that Pan and Prue had traversed on their way to the Elves, angling north across the upper stretches of the meres. The weather had changed during the night, clouds moving back in from the rim of the valley, leaving the sky overcast and the light gray and hazy. A thin mist was falling as they set out, and their clothing was soon layered in damp droplets that sparkled like tiny gemstones.

Panterra Qu breathed in the clear, sweet smell of the early-morning air, fresh with the taste of earth and plants pungent with the ripeness of new life. He was clearheaded and well rested after a good night’s sleep, excited by the prospect of exploring the pass and encouraged by Phryne Amarantyne’s success with her father. She walked beside him now, her angular face bright with expectation, her eyes shifting from place to place, taking everything in. She had an economical gait,
a measured way of walking that demonstrated she had hiked long distances before and knew how to conserve her energy. He liked the way she had refused to allow anyone to help her with her backpack, but insisted on carrying it herself. She had also made it clear that she would share in all the chores and tasks, would stand watch when it was needed, and would appreciate it if they called her by her first name and not her royal title. She had also advised that she expected to stand with them before her father when they returned with whatever information they were able to cull from their investigation, good or bad.

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