Singer from the Sea (30 page)

“What are you alleging?”

Aufors drew himself up to his full, haughty height, confronting the Marshal at eye level. “I do not allege. I describe a condition that exists. If I say that most of the people who walk along the Great Falls Trail in Tansay end up dead at the foot of the cliffs, I am stating a fact. I don’t know why they end up there. Rock slides, perhaps. Collapses of terrain. Attacks by beasts. Slippery footing coupled with drunkenness. I don’t allege, I simply say the trail is demonstrably dangerous. If I cared about someone, I would have her view the Falls from some other place. Because I care about Genevieve, I would rather see her as a live Marchioness than a dead Queen.”

The Marshal huffed, like a bull, working himself up toward another explosion. “You’re saying I don’t care about her.”

“I’m saying nothing of the kind. I have no idea whether you care about her or not. How would I know?”

“You certainly have reason to know!” he shouted. “She has always been well-cared-for, in accordance with the covenants. She has been given her youth. She has enjoyed the house and gardens in Wantresse. She has been well dressed, well kept and fed, well trained—”

Aufors interrupted, as loudly: “Which is also true of your horses, sir. Rather more true, actually. You spend a
good deal more time with your horses. Nonetheless, you would sell any one of them for a good price.”

The Marshal turned red with fury, his neck swelling.

“Forgive me,” said Aufors between his teeth, controlling himself with a good deal of effort.
“I
have no right to speak so. It is obvious to me I can no longer maintain the neutrality and balance which are necessary for me to work beneficially for you, Lord Marshal. I have been training someone to take my place, and I think it would be best, sir, for you to hire him at once as I offer my resignation as your equerry forthwith.”

He had said far more than he meant to say; the Marshal had heard a good deal more than he had thought to hear; and they parted in mutual fury. The Marshal started to say that officers were obliged to fulfil their specified terms of service, but then bethought himself that he had not appointed Aufors to a specified term, leaving him quite free to go elsewhere.

Aufors sent a note to the selected replacement with a written introduction to the Marshal. He then went to his quarters and packed his belongings, arranging with one of the footmen to store them for later dispatch. Meantime the Marshal sat simmering in his office. When Halpern came in and respectfully requested a word, the Marshal only nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“Sir, I hate to trouble you with such a matter at a time like this, but if Lady Genevieve is to be away for very long, we will need to hire a housekeeper.”

“I don’t understand you,” grunted the Marshal.

“You have several dinners planned, sir, as well as certain other social events. The Marchioness was handling all the arrangements. I could perhaps catch up to it, sir, but then I would have to have someone to fill in for me. Her absence just at this time is most sorely felt….”

“For heaven’s sake, man. What has she to do with it? You people do the work, do you not?”

“No sir, that is, not all of it, sir.”

“So, how much time did she spend on this? A few moments a day?”

Halpern looked shocked. “She began with the cook at seven in the morning, sir, and she often finished up with
the accounts after you had gone to bed, with very little time to herself in between.”

The Marshal stared at him. “You’re joking.”

Halpern bit back a retort, turning rather red himself, saved by the cool intrusion of another voice: Duchess Alicia, who stood in the doorway, accompanied by an embarrassed footman.

“I
am
sorry, Marshal, I couldn’t help but overhear. Lest you grow angry at an irreplaceable part of your establishment, thereby further handicapping yourself here in Havenor, let me assure you that Halpern does not overstate the case. Genevieve spent many hours every day seeing that your social affairs and this establishment were well managed. Did you think it happened by magic?”

“My dear lady,
I
simply don’t see what all the fuss is about. Halpern makes it sound like a … a profession!”

“Dear Halpern, leave me with the Marshal. Perhaps I can enlighten him.” She went so far as to pat the departing butler on one trembling arm before seating herself beside the Marshal.

“Well, sir. Let us try a bit of education. What does it cost to prepare and serve a dinner for thirty people?”

He frowned. “I have no idea.”

“Genevieve knew, to the penny. If she had not known, it would have cost you twice what it did. You would have been overcharged by your wine merchant, the confectioners, the butcher, and any number of other persons who live on the fat meat that falls from the tables of the ignorant. Unless you are far wealthier than we all assume, in short order you would have been ruined. Genevieve knew how much to spend heating this house this winter, how to get repairs done economically, how to handle the servants to keep them contented and working well. If Halpern decides to leave your employ—which is entirely possible, considering your manner toward him—who will you get to take his place who knows half what he knows about this place? Genevieve knew the answer to that, and also how to keep him more or less satisfied.”

“All right, all right,” he growled. “Perhaps there is more to it than I thought. So, I’ll let Aufors do it …” He stopped, biting his lip. “Damn!”

“So Aufors has resigned,” said the Duchess, accurately reading his expression. She was silent and thoughtful a long moment, then she came to herself and said, “It doesn’t surprise me. He would have gone long ago except for Genevieve.”

He went on fuming wordlessly, while she sat a time, peering intently into his brooding, granite face. At last, she said:

“Well, you seem set in edgy stone, and I have no time to spend smoothing you into something gentler. I came to bid you farewell, for I have received word that my daughter has also disappeared. I’m leaving today for Ruckward, by way of Reusel-on-mere. My granddaughter needs Grandma to comfort her.”

“What should I do about Aufors?” he asked, not even having heard her. “What should I do about Genevieve?”

She sighed, shaking her head at him. “Send him after her. Believe me, he’ll find her eventually. Tell him you have no objection to their marrying.”

“That would be ridiculous! He’s a commoner!”

“He’s uncommon, Marshal, and you know it! More uncommon than nine-tenths the nobility!”

“But … Delganor …”

“When and if Delganor says anything, you apologize and say you’re dreadfully sorry, but the young ones were so in love it seemed appropriate, sensible,
prudent
, for them to wed.”

“He’ll be furious.”

“I don’t know. He may be. On the other hand … he may not. Now, I must go. My carriage is waiting.” She rose, pulled on her gloves, and sailed out.

The Marshal growled and glowered as he heard her speaking to Halpern in the hall, and by the time he figured out what he intended to do, Aufors Leys was halfway down the alleyway behind the stables. Though a footman was sent after him, the man returned much out of breath, saying he could not catch the Colonel and no one knew where he had gone.

Finally, and only then, did the Marshal realize what the Duchess had said. Her daughter, too, had disappeared.

“Another one,” he muttered gloomily.

*   *   *

“Your Highness.”

A footman was at the Prince’s door. “Your Highness, Colonel Aufors Leys requests an audience.”

“That was quick,” murmured the Prince. “Did Wiezal bring him?”

“No, sir. He came, just now, of his own accord.”

The Prince sat up and blinked twice, slowly, like a lizard, looking over the footman’s shoulder into some vast distance. A tiny smile moved across his lips, evanescent as cloud shadow.

“Well, well. Do let him come in.’

Aufors entered in military fashion, his cape flowing from his shoulder, his tall bonnet in the crook of his arm, clean-shaven as an egg, his back straight as he bowed. “Your Highness.”

The Prince purred, “Colonel Leys. Is there something I can do for you, Colonel?”

Aufors licked dry lips and said, “Your Highness is generous to grant me a hearing. We met, as you may recall, at the home of the Lord Marshal. You may recall his daughter.”

“Ah, yes,” said the Prince vaguely. “Lovely girl.”

“Quite so, Your Highness. I know that it is preferred that young women here at court not be attached, as they are all given duties to perform, but she and I are in love. It was nothing either of us intended; it just happened.”

“Ah,” said the Prince, with a slight frown. “I see. Well. That is most interesting, but I fail to see what … it has to do with me….” He allowed his voice to trail away.

“Something that happened at dinner apparently frightened her terribly,” said Aufors, keeping his eyes down and thereby missing the slight amusement that again crossed the Prince’s face. “She has run away; she may be in danger, away from the protection of her family.”

“Frightened her?” mused the Prince, frowning slightly. “What could have happened at a dinner party? I knew most everyone there, scarcely a villainous crowd.” He peered down his nose, as though expecting a comment on this judgment.

Aufors made none. “I can’t say what frightened her, sir. But I feel that I must find her, wherever she has gone. It is apparent to me that she feels unprotected and insecure.”

“Then why in heaven’s name didn’t you go with her?” asked Delganor, without thinking, real irritation in his voice. “I should have thought you would have done so!”

Aufors dropped his jaw, only momentarily. “I … I wasn’t consulted about her going, sir.”

Nor, he thought, about Duchess Alicia’s going, either. Since the Duchess was his only connection to Genevieve, he had gone to her house at once, only to find she had departed for Ruckward. After a time weighing the various possibilities and consequences, he had decided to tell the Prince what he intended. In that way, he could not be accused of dishonorable conduct.

“What do you propose?” asked the Prince, in an irritated tone.

“Inasmuch as she was to take up certain duties here at the palace under your aegis, Your Highness, I felt it only proper to tell you that I intend to find out where she has gone, to follow her, and to offer her my protection by marrying her, despite the Marshal’s opposition to the match.”

Once more in full command of himself, the Prince said, “I am certainly not pleased.”

His stern face and unyielding mouth made this quite believable. Aufors gritted his teeth and was humble. He had practiced being humble all the way to the palace, and he was determined to do it well. “No, sir. I am truly desolated by that fact.”

The Prince drew a deep, dramatic breath, a very audible sigh with only a touch of petulance in it. “Young people. Oh, young people. So urgent. Well, I too was once young. Though the young lady has behaved foolishly—even ungraciously, one might say—you, yourself, Colonel, have behaved as honorably as one would expect of the hero of the Potcher War.”

He mused, drawing his brows together, frowning, tapping his finger on the arm of his chair, cocking his head, pursing his lips, slightly changing position and then doing
it all again, the perfect picture of a man concentrating on an issue. He said at last:

“Well. I will make you an offer, Colonel. Though I am greatly displeased at her impetuous behavior—scarcely what one would expect from one so carefully educated, one whom I myself recommended to the Lord Paramount—I will not make an issue of her departure. I will withhold my displeasure in return for your promise to accompany me on my planned trip to Mahahm. I need trustworthy people, and your honorable actions concerning this matter do you credit. Also, it is at least nominally a military mission, so it’s in your line of work.”

Aufors felt his tight jaw relax, his rigidly locked knees start to tremble, ever so slightly. He had thought he risked everything. His life, perhaps. He had believed it necessary to risk everything including his life, and he was now not only surprised but dumbfounded. All he could think of to say was, “Your Highness is most generous.”

“The terms are agreeable, Colonel? For you and the lady to accompany our mission? Hmmm? In return for my permission for you to marry.”

The evanescent little smile had gone. The slight frown of disapproval had gone. There was nothing now in that face or voice to give anything away, but nonetheless, something in that voice brought Aufors’s eyes up, to meet the expressionless gaze of the Prince.

He considered. The offer seemed generous. Aufors would have accepted a sentence of death in order to let Genevieve escape from this man, and this bargain was far less than that. If there was a trap in it, it was a trap for himself, not for her.

“If she consents to marry me, Your Highness. You have my word.”

The Prince made a gesture, waving this away. “No ifs, Colonel, but you had best go to the Marshal and explain to him that I have consented to your marriage with his daughter—that is, when and if you find her—in return for your accompanying me to Mahahm. I think, once he hears that, he will not oppose, as you put it, the match.”

“Thank you, Your Highness, for your generosity.”

Aufors bowed and backed away from the presence, not
seeing the little smile return, not raising his head until he stopped in the anteroom to wipe his beaded forehead. He stank of fear-sweat. Why, in heaven’s name? He hadn’t known he was terrified. He had sworn to himself he would face death without being terrified, but something about the Prince, something … well, he could understand Genevieve’s aversion, put it that way.

Understand though he did, he couldn’t take time to think about it. Instead, he got on his horse and went back to the Marshal’s house, where he made a stiff-necked admission of his interest in Genevieve and a more or less accurate account of his meeting with the Prince. The Marshal yelled, ranted, threatened, while Aufors said he understood the Marshal’s feelings. The Marshal pronounced himself taken aback, confused, and angry. Aufors apologized again. The matter volleyed several times more, with ebbing impetus, after which the two of them ended up, as the Marshal had suggested the day before, having lunch together.