The Desert Spear (53 page)

'I have spent time in Fort Miln, but I am not Milnese, either,' the Painted Man said.

'Then state your name and city,' Thamos said.

'My name is my own,' the Painted Man said, 'and I call no city my home.'

'How dare you'!' Thamos sputtered, advancing with his spear. The Painted Man gave him the bemused look a man might give a young boy who put up his fists. Rojer held his breath.

'Enough!' Rhinebeck barked. 'Thamos, stand down!' Prince Thamos scowled, but he did as he was told, retreating to the foot of the dais and glowering at the Painted Man.

'Keep your mysteries for now,' Rhinebeck said, raising a hand to forestall any further questions. Prince Mickael glared at his older brother, but kept his tongue.

'You, I remember,' Rhinebeck said to Rojer, apparently hoping to cut some of the tension in the room. 'Rojer Inn, Arrick Sweetsong's brat, who thought my brothel was a nursery.' He chuckled. 'They called your master Sweetsong because his voice made women sweet between the legs. Has the apprentice become the master''

'I only charm corelings with my music, Your Grace,' Rojer replied with a bow, painting a smile on his face and hiding his anger behind a Jongleur's mask.

Rhinebeck laughed, slapping his knee. 'As if a coreling could be taken in like some wood-brained tart! You have Arrick's humor, I'll give you that!'

Lord Janson cleared his throat. 'Eh'' Rhinebeck asked, turning to look at his secretary.

'The word from Messengers passing through the Hollow is that young Mr. Inn can indeed charm demons with his music, Your Grace,' he said.

The duke's eyes widened. 'Honest word'' Janson nodded.

Rhinebeck coughed to hide his surprise, then turned back to them, looking at Gared. 'You are Captain Gared of the Cutters'' he asked.

'Er, just Gared, Y'Worship,' Gared stuttered. 'I lead the Cutters, yeh, but I ent no captain. Just handy with an axe, I guess.'

'Don't sell yourself short, boy,' Rhinebeck said. 'No one praises a man who won't praise himself. If half of what I hear about you is true, I may give you a commission myself.'

Gared opened his mouth to reply, but it was clear he had no idea what the proper response was, so he simply bowed, dipping so low Rojer thought his chin might strike the floor.

Leesha sipped her tea, her eyes flicking over the rim to regard the duchess mum, who watched her in return with similar quiet candor. Araine 's servants had set a polished silver tea service on the table between them, along with a pile of pastries and thin sandwiches, before vanishing. A silver bell sat beside the platter to summon them back when needed.

Wonda sat rigidly, as if trying to make herself as invisible to the duchess mum as she was to corelings in her Cloak of Unsight. She stared at the plate of sandwiches longingly, but seemed terrified to take one, lest she draw attention to herself.

The duchess mum turned to her. 'Girl, if you're going to dress like a man and carry a spear, stop acting like some timid young debutante whose first suitor has come to court. Eat. Those sandwiches aren't piled there for show.'

'Sorry, Y'Grace,' Wonda said, bowing awkwardly. She grabbed a fistful of the finger sandwiches and shoved them into her mouth, neglecting napkin and plate alike. Araine rolled her eyes, but she seemed more amused than put off.

The duchess mum then turned to Leesha. 'As for you, I can see the questions on your face, so you might as well ask them. I'm not getting any younger while we wait.'

'I'm just'surprised, Your Grace,' Leesha said. 'You're not what I expected.'

Araine laughed. 'From what, my frail crone act in front of the men' Creator, girl, Bruna said you were quick, but I've my doubts if you couldn't see through that.'

'I won't be fooled again, I assure you,' Leesha said, 'but I confess, I don't understand why the act was needed at all. Bruna never pretended to be''

'Doddering'' Araine asked with a smile as she selected a delicate sandwich from the tray and dipped it smoothly in her tea, eating it in two quick bites. Wonda attempted to mimic her but left the sandwich in her tea too long, and half of it broke off in the cup. Araine snorted as the girl quickly swallowed tea and sandwich alike in one quick gulp.

'As you say, Your Grace,' Leesha said.

The duchess mum looked down her nose at Leesha in that reproachful way she had. It reminded her of Lord Janson's look, and she wondered if the first minister had learned it from her. 'It's necessary,' Araine said, 'because men turn to hardwood around a sharp woman, but around a dullard they are soft as pulp. Live a few more decades, and you'll find my meaning.'

'I'll remember that in the audience before His Grace,' Leesha said.

Araine snorted. 'Keep up with the dance, girl. This
is
the audience. What goes on in the throne room is all just for show. Whatever they may think, my sons no more run this city than your Smitt does the Hollow.'

Leesha choked on a pastry and almost spilled her tea. She looked at Araine in shock.

'It was ill planned to come without Mr. Smitt, though,' Araine tsked. 'Bruna hated politics, but she could have taught you the bare rudiments. She knew them well enough. My boys take after their father, and have little use for women at court unless they're putting food on a table or kneeling under it. They've naturally assumed your Mr. Flinn'if that's even his name'leads the dance now, and will give even that ape Gared and Arrick's brat more respect than you.'

'The Painted Man doesn't speak for the Hollow,' Leesha said. 'Nor do the others.'

'You think me dim, girl'' Araine asked. 'One look at them told me that. It makes no difference, though. All the decisions are already made.'

'Excuse me'' Leesha asked, confused.

'I gave Janson his instructions last night after I read his report, and he's seeing to them now,' Araine said. 'So long as none of those peacocks starts a real fight while they strut and posture in the throne room, the result of the 'audience ' will be this:

'You will return to the Hollow to await a team of my best Warders to study your combat wards. Before winter, I want every two-klat Warder in Angiers etching weapons until every wood-brained huntsman who can pull a bow has a quiver of warded arrows and warded spears are cheap at the boardwalk kiosks.

'Thamos and the Wooden Soldiers will accompany the Warders,' Araine went on, 'both for their protection and so your Cutters can train them in demon hunting.'

Leesha nodded. 'Of course, Your Grace.' Araine smiled patiently at the interruption, and Leesha realized as far as the duchess mum was concerned, these were royal commands and not topics for debate.

'The Tenders of the Creator are in turmoil over your painted friend,' Araine went on. 'Half of them think he's the Deliverer himself, and the other half think he's worse than the mother of all demons. Neither side seems to trust your young Tender Jona, though he seems to be leaning toward the former category. They wish to inquisit him. I've exchanged missives with my advisors on the Council of Tenders, and have agreed that a replacement, Tender Hayes, will be sent to tend the faithful in the Hollow while Jona is called here to give testimony before the council. Hayes is a good man, not crazed with zealotry and no fool. He will gauge the Hollowers' beliefs about the Painted Man even as the council gauges Jona's.'

Leesha cleared her throat. 'Your pardon, Your Grace, but the Hollow isn't a city with dozens of Tenders. The people trust Jona to guide them because he has earned that trust over many years. They won't just follow any man in a brown robe, and they won't take well to the idea of your dragging Jona off to an inquisition.'

'If Jona is loyal to his order, he 'll go willingly and quell any doubts,' Araine said. 'If not'well, I wish to know where his loyalties lie as much as the council.'

'And if the council's inquisition ends unfavorably'' Leesha asked.

'It's been a while since the Tenders burned a heretic,' Araine said, 'but I expect they still know the recipe.'

'Then Tender Jona will not be going,' Leesha said, putting down her cup and meeting the duchess mum's eyes, 'unless you intend to test your Wooden Soldiers against men who cut trees by day and wood demons by night.'

Araine's eyebrows raised, and her nostrils flared. The serene veil returned in an instant, so quickly that Leesha thought she might have imagined the flash of vexation. Araine turned to regard Wonda.

'Is that true, girl'' she asked. 'Will you take arms against your duke, if the Wooden Soldiers come for your Tender''

'I'll fight whoever Leesha tells me to fight,' Wonda said, sitting up to her full height for the first time since meeting the tiny duchess mum.

Even at fifteen summers, Wonda Cutter was taller than most men in Deliverer's Hollow, men known to be the tallest in the duchy. She towered over the diminutive old woman, but Araine seemed more amused by her than cowed. The duchess mum nodded as if to dismiss Wonda back to her previous state and looked at Leesha, tapping a nail on her delicate teacup.

'Very well,' she said at last. 'I will personally vouch for Tender Jona's safety and return to the Hollow, though he may return stripped of his robes.'

'Thank you, Your Grace,' Leesha said, bowing her head in acceptance of the terms.

Araine smiled and raised her teacup. 'You may be Bruna's heir after all.' Leesha smiled, and they drank together.

'The Painted Man,' Araine said, after a moment, 'will go alone to Miln, to carry his story about the Krasians to Euchor and make our plea for aid.'

'Why the Painted Man and not your herald'' Leesha asked.

Araine snorted. 'Janson's fop nephew' Euchor would eat the boy alive. If you haven't heard, Euchor and my son despise each other.'

Leesha looked at her, but the duchess waved the look away. 'Don't try to meddle with those wards, girl. The ivy throne and the metal one have been at odds long before the current occupants sat their overweight bottoms down on them, and will be long after they're gone. It's the way of men to glower at their rivals.'

'That doesn't explain why it should be the Painted Man and not a Royal Messenger,' Leesha said. 'I assure you, if he even agrees to go'and you may find him harder to steer than you think'he will go with his own agenda, and not yours.'

'Of course he will,' Araine said, 'which is precisely why I want that man as far from my city as possible. Whether he means it or not, his very presence will incite people to mad zealotry, and that's no way for a state to run. Let him go and cause a stir in Miln; Euchor may agree to whatever we want, just to be rid of him.'

'And what, exactly, do 'we ' want'' Leesha asked.

Araine eyed, her, and Leesha could not tell if she was more amused or annoyed at her audacity. 'An alliance against the Krasians, of course,' the duchess mum said at last. 'It's one thing to bicker over some carts of wood and minerals, but quite another for the sheepdogs to keep nipping at one another when there are wolves at the pen.'

Leesha looked at the woman, wanting to argue, but she found herself agreeing. Part of her felt so safe when Arlen was around, she never wanted him to leave the Hollow. But there was another part of her, a growing part, that found his presence'stifling. Just as he had feared, the Hollowers and refugees were looking to him to save them rather than saving themselves, and hadn't Leesha done the same' Perhaps it was best for all that he go for a short while.

When the moment for Leesha to reply had passed with no word spoken, Araine nodded and turned back to her tea. 'I have yet to decide what to do with Arrick's boy. His so-called fiddle magic bears closer examination, but I have no designs on it as yet.'

'It's not magic,' Leesha said. 'Not as we know it, anyway. He just'charms the corelings, like a Jongleur works a crowd's mood. It's a useful skill, but it works only so long as he continues to play, and he hasn't been able to teach the trick to others.'

'He might make a good herald,' Araine mused. 'Better than Janson's fop nephew, at any rate, though that says little.'

'I would prefer that Rojer stay with me, Your Grace,' Leesha said.

'Oho! Would you'' Araine asked, amused. She reached over the table and pinched Leesha's cheek. 'I like you, girl. Not afraid to speak your mind.' She sat back, looking at Leesha a moment, and then shrugged. 'I'm feeling generous,' she said, refilling their teacups. 'Keep him. Now, for this 'Deliverer' business.'

'The Painted Man does not claim to be the Deliverer, Your Grace,' Leesha said. She snorted. 'Night, he'll bite the head from any that suggest it.'

'Whatever he claims, folk believe it,' Araine said, 'as evidenced by the sudden change of your hamlet's name'without royal permission, I might add.'

Leesha shrugged. 'That was the town council's decision and none of mine.'

'But you did not oppose it,' Araine noted.

Leesha shrugged again.

'Do
you
believe it'' Araine asked, meeting her eyes. 'Is he the Deliverer come again''

Leesha looked at the duchess mum for a long time. 'No,' she said at last. Wonda gasped out loud, and Leesha scowled.

'It appears your bodyguard does not agree,' Araine said.

'It's not my place to tell people what or what not to believe,' Leesha said.