Secrets of the Night Special Edition (57 page)

Keriam's spirits plummeted, but just as quickly, her natural optimism came to her defense. Somehow, she'd escape. And she might have to use the rope after all. Still, if she were to get away, she couldn't get far or procure a place to live without money. Balor and Aradia had usurped the palace funds, and she had no money of her own. Her jewels? Aside from the amethyst ring she kept hidden in her room, only the Goddess knew what had happened to her other rings, bracelets, and necklaces, for she surely didn't. No doubt Aradia was sporting her sapphire ring this very minute.

And if anyone knew she was the escaped princess, he would not risk harboring her.

Ideas played in her mind, a means of fleeing the palace, solutions just out of reach. But she’d think of something. Sure as the Otherworld, she wouldn’t stay here for the rest of her life. Cups in hand, she left the room with Kormlada, her heart much lighter than it had been in a long time.

* * *

That night while she slept, she had one of her nightly journeys, that special time when her soul wandered throughout the palace, or even roamed the countryside. She spied on the guards, those inside the palace and out, surveying their movements and habits, judging when–and if–she could safely slip past them when she attempted escape. She vowed she make these nightly journeys as often as possible, for one trip alone would do little good.

And Roric? Her spirit brain urged, don’t you want to see him? Ah, yes, more than anything, she wanted to see him again, and never mind her doubts about him. As quickly as her spirit body would take her, she floated upward to the steward’s quarters and drifted through the walls. Roric! He slept soundly on his side, one muscular arm close to his chest, the other stretched out in front of him. Bare-chested, he had never looked so appealing, a mat of curly hair trailing from just below his neck on down to his stomach--and from there? She smiled to herself, her thoughts flying to places she had never dared consider. She gazed at him for long moments, and even in her corporeal state, a flush spread over her body, an insistent desire to lie in bed with him, to feel his body on hers, to know his kisses, his caresses. With more regret than she cared to admit, she left him and returned to her room. If only she could forget him, drive him from her mind, for he served Balor now.

* * *

On a clear morning with no clouds in sight--and no hope of much-needed rain--Keriam pulled weeds in the palace garden, working between clusters of red chrysanthemums and purple asters. A hummingbird darted about, sampling the irises. A light breeze brought the sweet scent of pink peonies in a batch to the far right, but the leaves and petals of all the flowers drooped in the dry spell. Earlier in the day, she'd placed a wreath she'd made from these flowers on her father's grave, although it had taken much discrimination to find presentable blooms.

The sun was warm on her back, but the air carried a hint of cooler weather to come. Now and then, she flexed her fingers to get the kinks out, or stood and stretched. She dabbed a handkerchief across her perspiring forehead, then inched along on the ground, headed for the phlox.

But oh! when would it rain? Thinking hard, she looked out across the clear lake. How about an irrigation system? she wondered with more than idle speculation. Since the lake bordered the palace garden, such a system seemed a feasible solution for watering the flowers and bushes. She'd speak to Annan about it first chance she got.

Because the gardener's assistant had run away a few days ago, Keriam found plenty to keep her busy here, a chance to divert her mind from her worries. From Roric Gamal.

She found herself thinking of him more and more, and warmth stole over her body with each thought of him. Yet painful doubts persisted. Did he truly serve Balor, or had he remained loyal to her? A heavy weight settled over her heart, and she wondered if she would ever know.

Returned to her task, she jerked at the weeds with a vengeance. A raven lit on the ground beside her, looking at her intently, as if it wanted to say something. Two more ravens landed on the grass beside the first, all of them seemingly in quiet communication; then five more alighted.

"Well, hello there, my feathered friends." She reached for her handkerchief to tuck it in her pocket but couldn't find it.

"My handkerchief," she murmured, looking all around. "Where did I put it?"

One of the ravens hopped along the ground, back to the spot she'd just left. Grabbing the piece of linen in his beak, he hopped back to her and dropped the handkerchief in front of her.

"Well, what do you know! You understood me!"

Smiling with surprised delight, she edged closer to them, but they flew away at her approach. For a few moments, she raised her head to watch their flight, pondering when she'd see them again, or if she ever would. What if they were trying to tell her something?

"Princess Keriam!"

Keriam looked up to see Maudina approach along the gravel walkway that led from the courtyard to the gardens, the girl's steps quick and purposeful, her comely face a welcome sight.

"Maudina!" Keriam dropped the weeds and rushed toward her former maid, brushing her hands on her brown cotton dress. Fighting imminent tears, she hugged the young girl. Countless images of the maid and Traigh flooded her mind, pleasant visions but ones she determined to ignore, wanting to concentrate on the here and now. She vowed from hereon to suppress this preternatural ability, for this continual bombardment of pictures often hindered clear thought.

"Maudina, I haven't seen you since . . . since . . ." She wiped a hand across her eyes. "Ah, dear Maudina, it seems like such a long time."

Tears streamed down the girl's face. "I know, princess," she said in a wavery voice. "That bit--Aradia won't let me out of her sight, except at bedtime. But she and Balor--excuse me,
King
Balor--rode into the city today on some business--don't ask me what." She snorted. "As if they'd tell me!"

Taking her hand, Keriam led her to a stone bench and sat, resting her hands in her lap. "How is she treating you? The truth, now."

"Aradia?" the maid said with a rueful smile. "All sweetness and light, everything a true lady should be. Why, I have only a couple of black and blue marks now, so I guess I'm improving. At the beginning, nothing I did pleased her."

"Ah, Maudina." Keriam gave her a quick hug. "I'm so sorry." She thought quickly. "Suppose you had a chance to escape the palace--"

"Not much chance, madam, if you'll pardon me for interrupting."

"But suppose you did. Or suppose--may the Goddess guide us–something happened to

Aradia. Do you have a place to go to?"

"I have a sister who lives south of Moytura, madam." She gazed down at her lap. “Much good that does me now.”

Dabbing the handkerchief across her forehead, she gave the maid a hopeful look. "But if something should happen to Aradia--you know what I mean-- you could live with your sister, couldn't you?"

"I've considered that, but I suppose Aradia will live to be one-hundred.” Maudina scoffed. “Only the good die young."

"If you have the opportunity, please go to your sister. Later, when I gain the throne–and I swear I will--I hope you'll return to the palace. For now, I hate the thought of what you have to endure from the usurper queen."

"Don't be sorry for me, princess. My situation is nothing like what you're going through. Pulling weeds," she said, gesturing toward the garden, "working in the kitchen . . ." She shook her head. "I shouldn't complain."

Keriam smiled. "All good practice, nothing that will kill me. Why, if ever I have to find a position, I'll warrant all this work--" She waved her hand, indicating the garden and the palace--"will serve me well."

Maudina spoke quickly. "Madam, I must leave you soon. I lied to the guard, told him I had a message for you from Aradia. If I stay too long . . ." She shrugged her shoulders, a worried frown on her face. "And I will go to my sister, if I ever can. Believe me, if you gain the throne--and oh! madam, I pray that you do--I shall come back to serve you."

"Good! Now, dear Maudina, best you go back." Keriam stifled her disappointment, so happy to see her maid again, to talk to her, discover how she managed. "I don't want you to get into trouble." When would she see her again?

"Madam, I wanted you to know, since this is the first chance I've had to talk to you--before Radegunda left the palace, she urged me to tell you that if you can escape, you're always welcome to live with her, so--"

"Radegunda's--that's the first place Balor would look." Surely Aradia had told Balor about their herbal lessons, for Aradia never missed much.

"She's considered that, madam. If you go there, she intends to leave right away for her brother's farm in the country, north of Moytura."

"Very well, if I can escape." Keriam pounded her fist in her the palm of her other hand. "I must get out of here, not for my sake, but for the kingdom. I could do more for Avador away from the palace. If I can inspire a revolt among the people--"

"A dangerous gamble, madam. I fear you'd be severely punished."

"I'm willing to take the risk. Or if I can get word to Elegia, to have them come to our

aid . . ." Desperate plans rampaged through her mind. "As it is, I'm sure they don't know that . . ." She swallowed hard--"that the king was m-murdered, unless someone from here got word to them." She frowned. "Not likely, though." She pressed her hands to her face. "My father and

I . . . we were to attend a royal wedding in Elegia the next moonphase. Goddess, what will they think, when we don't appear?"

"I don't know!" Maudina stood. "Madam, forgive me, but I must leave. Only remember--Radegunda. She lives at
15 Perfume Lane
, keeps the key hidden behind a loose brick, fifth brick from the bottom, to the right of the front door."

Keriam silently repeated the directions. "I'll remember. And thank you for coming to tell me. Much as I enjoy visiting with you, I fear you will only bring trouble on yourself if you come see me again."

"Don't worry about me. I'll try to visit whenever I can. Goodbye, madam."

Keriam rose and gave her another warm embrace. "Goodbye, Maudina."

The maid rushed off along the pathway, her dress fluttering around her ankles, until she became a small figure in the distance. After one final wave, she opened the wide oak door at the back courtyard, then disappeared inside the palace.

A guard stood by the door, prompting Keriam to worry if he'd report Maudina, or if he'd accepted her story. Kind, dependable Hafgan had always served her and her father well, but Balor had wrought so many changes within the palace, creating shifting loyalties and arousing suspicions among the servants. No one knew whom to trust.

Keriam returned to the bench, resting her hands in her lap. The wind picked up, cooler now, wafting her hair about her face. She brushed a strand of hair from her cheek and hugged her arms, weighing her few options, painfully aware that for the first time in her life, she was at the mercy of others.

No, she wasn't! She would determine her own fate. Maudina had given her much to think about, and there must be an answer to her plight. Ideas and possibilities churned through her mind, each one quickly discarded. Countless moments slid past as she remained in quiet but busy contemplation, until a scheme struck her like a flash of light. Dare she try it? She had nothing to lose.

Smiling, she resumed her task, eager to put her plan into action. She felt better than she had in a long time, if only her scheme would work. She would persevere, and she would triumph.

Chapter Seventeen

"We must raise taxes," Balor said,. presiding over a long oval table in the Blue Royal Conference Room. "We'll need more money. I fear war will be forced upon us."

War with whom?
At a loss for words, Roric stared down at his hands, then raised his eyes. Balor had better explain himself.

While Balor pontificated to his eight ministers and the steward, Roric., the usurper's eyes shifted from one man to the next, as if he were daring anyone to challenge his legitimacy. And that is a valid concern, Roric agonized, his gaze on this upstart. Roric’s look slid to the other men in the room. What was going through their minds? Was their loyalty only a pretense, as was his? Four had served under Tencien, their sudden switch of allegiance to the new king a shock to him.

A stack of vellum rested in front of Balor, his thumb and forefinger ruffling the pages. Feather pens, ink wells, and papers sat at each man's place, the oak table polished to a shine. Discarding his uniform for all the trappings of his new kingly role, Balor sported a long-sleeved purple velvet tunic, a gold pendant adorning his neck, a gold-link belt circling his waist. A gold ring flashed on his right ring finger, two bracelets of the same dangling from his left wrist--enough of the precious metal to feed a family for several years.

The other men, including Roric, wore simple tunics of gray, brown, or black, with wide black or brown leather belts buckled at their waists. Soon the impending cool weather would necessitate woolen trousers and cloaks.

Since Balor didn't permit any weapons in the palace--aside from the swords carried by the guards--Roric had had special high boots made with a hidden sheath for his dagger, and thus kept the weapon with him at all times.