Secrets of the Night Special Edition (38 page)

That was the most she could hope for, but what must she do now? Where could she turn? Ah, but she knew the answer. As always, she must rely on herself. She aimed for another spirit journey. She must find evidence against Balor.

And she must deal with Roric Gamal.

Chapter Four

Of all the holy days celebrated in Avador, Keriam enjoyed the Beltane Festival the most. It was a happy time for everyone, the end of cold weather and the start of e
arrach
when sacred bonfires were lit throughout the country, and many sanctified oak trees were decorated with ribbons and garlands of flowers.

But this year, worry for her father overruled anticipation of the special day.

What if the assassins struck during this holy day? Keriam agonized while she headed for her bedchamber one evening. The conspirators had slated the Lug Festival for the evil deed, several moonphases away, but what if they had changed their minds?

Fearing a calamity, she spoke to the major of the guard a few days before the festival. "I want extra guards posted around the dais where His Majesty will speak, also additional guards placed throughout the crowds."

Hafgan raised his eyebrows. "Extra guards, madam? The king has said nothing of this."

"
I’m
telling you, Hafgan. We must prepare for any eventuality." She dared not inform him of the conspiracy. The fewer who knew of the scheme, the better. Although she disliked using her feminine wiles, she gave him a winsome smile, hoping such a stratagem would persuade him where sheer argument failed. “Do this for me.”

He bowed. "Very well, madam. I will do as you command."

The special day arrived, and with a mounted escort, Keriam and her father rode their horses along the
Royal North Road
toward Moytura's center. At that exalted spot, the king would officiate at the festival's opening, and she would judge in the Avador Flower Exhibition. For this one day, she wanted to pretend that everything in the kingdom was as it should be, but especially that no danger threatened her father. A shadow crept over her thoughts, already erasing her resolution.

What about Balor? Surely he'd entered his roses in the flower exhibition. If given the chance, what could she say to him? Could she influence his thinking, so that he wouldn't consider assassination?

Roric Gamal had left this morning on a mission for her father, thank the Goddess. One less fear, providing he engaged in no subterfuge while away. Yet how could she be certain? Possibly he was collaborating with other conspirators, even now. She bit down hard on her lower lip, trying to dispel her fears, hoping to find comfort in the journey’s pleasant ambience.

The sun shone brightly on the ride north from Emain Macha to the capital, a light breeze lifting her long hair from her back. Puddles after a heavy rain the previous night dotted the dirt road, and occasionally, the horses splashed mud across the pathway. She inhaled the fresh scents along the roadside--lavender, lilacs, the sweet scent of peat, the fresh aroma of grass. The nearby hillsides sheltered new growth, promising a bountiful crop. Spring--her favorite season.

On the outskirts of Moytura, she turned in the saddle toward Tencien as the city's towers and spires appeared in the distance. "Look at all the people," she said, raising her voice. Hundreds lined the dirt road, waving frantically at her and her father, their cheers drowning out all other noises. Keriam and her father smiled and waved at the men, women, and children, she with a sense of pride. "They love you, Father."

But each person was a potential assassin, she lamented, her earlier fears returning.

He reached over to squeeze her hand. "They love you, too, Kerry."

She saw his head move from side to side, a pensive expression on his face, as if he were aware of the danger. Had he taken her warning seriously? She prayed so.

The voices swelled, soon becoming a roar as she and the king neared the center, their subjects crowding the city's every cobblestone street and alley. The breeze picked up, rustling the branches and leaves of the city’s oak trees. For this great day, jugglers performed their tricks in the streets, and special booths occupied every spare space, the sellers hawking their wares.

Arrived at
Talmora Square
with its fountains and greenery, Tencien touched her arm. "I'll warrant the city's whole population is here today, all ten-thousand."

"They're happy, Father. You have ruled your people well."
And I pray you may continue to do so for many more years.

A dais occupied the city's center, two elaborately-carved thrones atop it, with chairs for other dignitaries, including the king's ministers and the city magistrate. Banners representing the country’s provinces rippled in the crisp wind, and above all the others, the turquoise and gold flag of Avador wafted in the wind. The banner bore an emblem of the goddess Talmora seated on a throne, a spear in her right hand, a lion and a squirrel at her feet. Noting the extra guards posted around the platform, Keriam gave silent thanks to Hafgan.

When the king and Keriam reached the dais, officers rushed forward to help them dismount. Tired and sore from riding such a distance, Keriam forced a smile as she reached the ground.

Flowers rained down on them, the people shouting, "King Tencien! Princess Keriam!" Accompanied by Keriam, the king mounted the dais. At his signal, a page blew on a trumpet, and the cheers ceased, all eyes on the king. A hushed expectancy came over the crowd.

He raised his arms. "Herewith begins the Beltane Festival. We thank the Earth-mother Goddess Talmora for winter's end and pray she brings us a fruitful season. Let us all remember our blessings and respect the druids, whose mission it is to help us honor the goddess and keep this country free of magic--"

A shiver raced down Keriam's spine. If he discovered her special powers, would he consider her guilty of practicing magic? Through absolute willpower, she brought her mind back to her father's speech.

"--and may we continue to live in peace and prosperity. Let no family live in want, nor any child go hungry. . . ."He spoke then of the treaty with Elegia, the benefits it would reap. Tencien's speech continued for several more minutes as he shared his plans for the country's improvements--better roads and more bridges, more secure silos for storing grain.

Further cheers erupted, prompting Tencien to raise his arms for silence. "May Talmora watch over us all and guide us in the rightful path. May happiness and good fortune reign throughout the year. Now let the festivities begin. Princess Keriam will join the other judges at the flower show."

Applause greeted this pronouncement as Keriam rose from her throne. With Donall, one of her father's officers, providing escort, she walked the short distance to a cordoned area in the square's easterly section. There, a profusion of blossoms blanketed the space, a pleasing medley of fragrances wafting on a westerly breeze. The princess joined the two other judges, sauntering among the flower displays, in low voices discussing the merits of each exhibit.

She viewed Midac Balor's rose bushes set on a mound, their delicate petals ranging in color from white to pale yellow and apricot, to pink and deep red. What a contrast to the man's ugly soul. Prompted to turn toward the crowd, she saw the general among the spectators, his gaze on her, cold and calculating. His eyes held a trace of challenge, as if daring her to refuse him an award. With a mental shrug, she turned back, focusing on the other exhibits, each one so lovely she wondered how she could make a choice.

After much viewing, the judges reached their decision--first prize for the sweet-smelling phlox, second for the clusters of blue and purple anemones, and third for the water orchids. Along with other displays, Balor's roses received special mention.

It fell upon Keriam to bestow the prizes--a small bag of gold coins for first prize, silver for second, and copper coins for third. Those growers earning special mention received a copper plaque.

When Balor came forward to claim his plaque, his warm smile made her question his motives. "Perhaps first prize next time, madam?"

Deflecting her thoughts from the general as he swaggered away, she considered the sacred bonfire ceremony tonight, a chance to mingle with her people, an opportunity she always anticipated. What if Balor appeared there, too? If so, she must learn more of his devious plans....

When night fell and a multitude of stars and planets decorated the heavens, the celebration moved to the countryside. There, a sacred bonfire blazed on the hilltop and wood smoke floated on the air. Sanctified bonfires burned on other hilltops throughout the country, many of them visible from Keriam’s vantage point.

Without fanfare or prior announcement and accompanied by her maid, she rode to Knocktierne Hill, about halfway between the palace and the city. She wanted to mix with the people and get to know them better. Earlier in the day, she'd changed into a plain brown dress, a wool shawl wrapped around her shoulders. She hoped to conceal her identity, for she found people were much more willing to talk to her if they didn’t recognize her as the princess.

"Perhaps you'll see friends tonight," she said to Maudina as they clambered to the top of the hill, sidestepping rocks and thick tree roots. "But don't stray far, because I intend to leave within a short while."

"Madam, I'm supposed to keep you in sight."

"Do it, then." Keriam walked away.

Women, having previously extinguished their hearth fires, gathered at the hillside to light torches at the conflagration, these to carry home to rekindle their fires. The men stood back, looking solemn, talking in quiet groups. After making light talk with several of her subjects and gauging the people's feelings, Keriam moved away from the crowd, far from the pungent smell of smoke. Next to an ash tree, she surveyed the kingdom's hills and valleys, its farms and villages. If only the country could remain at peace, if no treason threatened, if her father--

"Ah, the princess herself, come to grace the peasantry with her presence."

Keriam froze, then nodded to the intruder. "General Balor." The flickering flames distorted his features, giving his face an evil cast, a truthful picture, she thought. Yet here was her chance to learn more about him, and if she were fortunate, to gain incriminating evidence. “I trust you’re enjoying the festivities.”

He hooked his fingers in his wide leather belt, rocking back on his heels. "Oh, I always enjoy these spectacles. Never underestimate the gullibility of the common people, I always say."

Anger heated her face, but she summoned a smile. "Gullibility?" Her gaze covered his dark tunic with its many medals, his harsh features and facial scar, his predatory appearance.

He waved his hand at the many bonfires scattered throughout the countryside. "As if the Goddess cares what we do! As if there is a goddess!"

She clenched her jaw, then spoke in a tight voice. "General, you utter blasphemy." Talmora, forgive me, she prayed, but please rid me of this fiend. The wind picked up, fluttering her dress around her legs, blowing her hair across her face. She tucked errant strands behind her ears and assumed a neutral expression.

"Don't tell me you believe all this superstitious nonsense. Princess Keriam, I would have thought better of you."

"Then why are you here, if you don't respect the sanctity of the celebrations?"

"As I said, I enjoy these spectacles."

"But it is the Goddess who guides and protects us, who gives us rain for our crops, who blesses our families. General, I should report you to the druids." She regretted her threat immediately.

"But you won't report me, will you? You know the druids will do nothing about it. Besides, I'll deny I ever said anything." He smiled then, or was it a sneer? "But why are we arguing? This night is much too pleasant for disagreements," he said, making a small bow, his mink-trimmed cloak rippling in the breeze.

"Come," he said, "I can think of better ways to spend our time. Let us move farther back, away from the smoke. The sky is especially lovely tonight--don't you think?--with the planets Partholan and Nemed in such proximity to the moon." He offered his arm, and a bombardment of images assailed her. She saw the man in his younger days, engaged in a sword fight, his opponent's sword slashing down his cheek. She shivered.

"Madam, are you cold?"

"My shawl slipped." She wrapped it tighter around her shoulders, struck with disappointment that she'd gained no useful information yet.

Reluctant to wrangle further and mindful of the need to tread with care, she followed him, the light from the bonfire illuminating the way. She maneuvered past bushes and spreading oaks, finally reaching the eastern edge of the hill. Indeed, the stars, planets, and moon shone brightly, not a cloud in the sky. The breeze brought the sweet scent of night-blooming paconia, an aroma that never failed to cheer her . . . until now.

While he turned away for a moment, she judged the distance from the crest to the valley hundreds of feet below. If she could only push him, she would rid the land of this fiend and erase the threat to her father. But no, he stood too far back, and besides, she couldn't murder a man in cold blood.

Balor turned her way again. "Princess Keriam, there's something I've thought about for a long time, and I suppose I should approach your father first. But I find it difficult to resist you. Your presence here tonight gives me an opportunity--"