The Dragon of Despair (35 page)

Grateful Peace winced under the force of her words, but persisted.

“What you say is true, Lady Archer. However, I could accompany you in disguise.”

Elise, looking at his tattooed features, his distinctive bearing, his missing arm, raised her brows in disbelief. Peace leaned forward in his chair, forgetting dignity in his eagerness to explain.

“You are looking at my tattoos. I can hide them. There are stains—available just over the river in the Gateway to Enchantment—that I could apply to my face. These would darken the skin enough to significantly hide what is written there. Then I could apply paint over what is still visible. My darker skin would let me pass for a laborer. Moreover, no one knows that I lost my arm.”

“And so?” Elise prompted.

“I could act in the role of a guide hired by your people. Such is not considered very honorable employment. However, it would be an acceptable alternative for someone who had been maimed.”

Elise nodded. The New Kelvinese were arrogant about the superiority of their culture, an arrogance that could verge on xenophobia.

“Therefore,” Peace continued, “no one would look too closely at me. If any suspected I hid the original markings on my face they would think it had been done because I was embarrassed about my current work.”

“Flattering,” Elise said dryly, “but honest. Do you think such a disguise would fool your former associates? After all, we left New Kelvin with you. Wouldn’t it be reasonable to assume that the New Kelvinese we returned with might be you?”

“Some may suspect,” Peace admitted. “Most likely would be Xarxius, the member of the Dragon’s Three who works most frequently with foreigners. He is a suspicious soul. However, I have good hope that Xarxius would not share such thoughts. He, too, disliked the influence Melina had upon those who associated with her overlong. I doubt that her current marriage will have changed his opinions. Indeed, that may be the case with many of my associates. If they think I have returned to right what has gone so drastically wrong, they may say nothing.”

“Possible,” Elise admitted. “Still, it is a great risk, both for us and for you.”

“Think of the advantages to be gained,” Peace countered, restraining his eagerness with effort. “I know Thendulla Lypella as few do. I know hidden entrances. I can tell you the histories of many who may seek you out, helping you to better judge their reliability.”

“True,” Elise said, “and tempting.”

“I have one more idea,” Peace said. “Citrine is a difficulty for you. Isn’t that so?”

Elise nodded. The matter had been discussed so frequently and so openly within their inner group that she could not deny it. Simply put, everyone else had ample reason for making the journey. Citrine’s only reason would be to see her mother. Such an open declaration of their intent was not wise.

“What if we disguise her as a New Kelvinese?” Peace offered. “She could pose as my child. Variations in New Kelvinese attire would permit us to conceal the stone on her forehead far more easily than if she continued as a native from your land. Moreover, we would be protection for each other. My associates might not see the former Dragon’s Eye in a crippled laborer with a small child. Equally, a New Kelvinese child—perhaps a bit mentally infirm—would not immediately seem to be the daughter of Melina.”

Elise frowned thoughtfully. There was something to the plan. It would solve many of their problems and provide them with a valued advisor. She hoped that she could trust Peace. Where Melina was concerned, they were bound by mutual dislike. However, if they were to endanger the Dragon Speaker…

She shook off the thought. They had no intentions against the Dragon Speaker. Worrying about such was as foolish as buying a saddle for an unborn foal.

“Son,” Elise said, speaking an evolving thought aloud. “Citrine is young enough to pass for either girl or boy. Let her pass as your son.”

“Then you will let me accompany you?”

“Let us say that I will consider your proposal and put it to Duchess Kestrel and my companions.”

Peace looked pleased. He rose.

“Thank you, Lady Archer. I promise that you will not regret having me with you.”

Watching him depart, Elise wished that she were equally certain.

DESPITE FIREKEEPER’S URGING
, Derian refused to push Roanne.

“We wore her out on the road back from New Bardenville,” he said, “and she has only had a few days’ rest. If you get your way, we will be leaving the North Woods as soon as possible for another long trek. Roanne is an excellent horse, but I will not exhaust her without reason.”

Firekeeper wanted to sulk, knew that was a puppyish thing to do, and forced herself to consider the concessions Derian had already made. He could have insisted on traveling with a trade caravan as he had done before but, knowing that a group would invariably move more slowly than he could alone, he had agreed to take the—perceived—risks of solitary travel.

And Roanne
had
been rather hard used.

If Firekeeper felt herself abused, well, wasn’t that a wolf’s life? The rain didn’t stop just because the pack was hungry and needed to hunt. The snow didn’t sculpt its drifts to a wolf’s comfort. The winds kept their vagaries and the sun its heat.

So, though Firekeeper would have liked to explore more, she and Blind Seer traveled by day, stayed in Derian’s vicinity, and, as before, hunted for him and selected his campsites. All the while the comet, growing somewhat fainter now as it turned to adventure into new parts of the night sky, seemed to mock her.

Blind Seer, overheated although he had shed his heavy winter coat and many of the roads they traveled were through forested areas that offered much shade, found the going difficult. Within a few days, the blue-eyed wolf was seeking out somewhere to rest during the worst of the day’s heat, catching up later.

Firekeeper missed the wolf desperately, but she reminded herself that she would miss him far more if he was killed in fighting between humans and Beasts. Nor did she doubt that if such came to pass Blind Seer would place himself in the forefront. He had learned much of human tactics and habits during his sojourn east, and would feel he must share that knowledge with his pack mates.

Wolves, unlike human generals, did not lead from behind.

WHEN DERIAN AND FIREKEEPER ARRIVED
at the Norwood estates, some eight days after their departure from Eagle’s Nest, they found that some of their news had traveled ahead of them. Elise was glad to get King Tedric’s letter and, even as she read the contents, she offered Derian the letters that had arrived before him.

“So we’ll all know everything,” she explained.

Firekeeper, who still hadn’t learned to read, fidgeted some as Derian read her the various letters. What pleased her was learning that preparations for departure were further along than either she or Derian had dared hope.

Firekeeper clearly felt that quartermastering details were no concern of hers. After asking for an estimate as to when the expedition would be ready to depart, she headed off to the deep forests with Blind Seer. Derian watched her go with mingled exasperation and sympathy.

Elise caught his expression and laughed.

“Well, she does deserve some reward for patiently guarding you all those days,” she said.

“I suppose,” Derian admitted grudgingly. “Still, you’d think she’d give this up. It’s not like she’s fresh from the forest anymore. She’s lived among humans for over a year now.”

Elise frowned.

“I think,” she said slowly, “it would be a mistake to think that proximity has changed Firekeeper’s underlying self. She is more at ease with you than with any other human—and you have spent more time with her than has anyone else. I think you overlook how very strange she is.”

Derian forced himself to grin, though he wasn’t at all certain he agreed. Firekeeper, he thought, considered herself a person of privilege and took advantage of her perceived status. Not wanting to discuss his mixed reactions to a person he, after all, essentially liked and valued a great deal, Derian changed the subject.

“You’ve done a tremendous amount to get us ready,” he said.

“As soon as your letter arrived,” Elise said, “we started. Later, the letter from my father to Duchess Kestrel gave us a fair idea of what King Tedric had in mind. Wendee mentioned this morning that she’d like you to review her preparations.”

“Happily,” Derian said, “though I doubt she needs my help.”

“Even so,” Elise replied, “it cannot hurt to have two sets of eyes review our plans.”

She looked around the tidy parlor as if suddenly dissatisfied.

“Come outside into the garden with me,” she said. “It’s pleasant this time of day and we can talk there.”

Derian had spent far too much time on the road to find the idea of strolling appealing, but he wasn’t about to question a noblewoman’s request.

“I was thinking,” Elise said once they were out in the coolness of the dower house’s immaculate garden, “that there is no reason for us to wait to secure a dwelling in Dragon’s Breath until our arrival. Do you think Hasamemorri’s house would serve again?”

Derian considered.

“It would,” he said, “though there is no need for you to stay in such mean quarters. I’m certain the embassy could arrange for a house where you wouldn’t need to share a room.”

Elise laughed.

“You have odd ideas, Derian Carter. I think you imagine that those of noble birth live in some splendid isolation. Surely you’ve seen enough to know otherwise.”

Feeling his face blush hot—a habit he had been certain he had overcome—Derian answered more sharply than he intended.

“Well, you do have fine houses and great suites within them.”

“And we share them with chaperons, maids, and servants of all sorts. They’re in and out constantly, putting away linens or clothes, opening and shutting curtains, dusting, sweeping, laying fires. You probably have more privacy in your parents’ house than I do in mine. Even now the only reason Ninette isn’t here is that she doesn’t know that Firekeeper has left us alone. If she did, she’d be here arrow swift and arrow straight.”

Derian thought about the truth in Elise’s statement, remembered the constant comings and goings of disregarded servants, and he nodded a touch grudgingly.

“Still,” he said, “Hasamemorri’s is a very common house.”

“But,” Elise replied, “its very commonness is to our advantage. Our movements will be less remarked.”

Derian nodded, but found another protest almost at once.

“Won’t that in itself be a problem? Won’t people wonder why we want such freedom?”

“And you the son of a horse trader! Merchants don’t wish to make all their contacts in the open.”

Elise laughed, and Derian had to concede her the point. The noblewoman went on.

“If we are too closely questioned, we can use Firekeeper and Blind Seer as our excuse. Hasamemorri does have stables for the wolf and none of her neighbors offered complaint last time.”

“Fair enough,” Derian said. “Shall I write?”

“Let me,” Elise said. “I will write both to Hasamemorri and to the ambassador.”

She lowered her voice and Derian realized that she had had more reason than the pleasant coolness of the garden for inviting him outside.

“There is one other advantage.”

“Oh?”

“I told you that I have agreed to let Grateful Peace accompany us.”

Derian nodded.

“If we were to take a great house with many servants,” Elise went on, “it might seem odd that we keep on our guide. Also,” she paused, seeming uncomfortable, “it will be more difficult for Grateful Peace to make contacts without our knowing. In a house with many servants, any one might be an agent of the Dragon Speaker—and at least one would surely be. We know Hasamemorri and her maids are not so allied and can request the dismissal of any too newly come.”

“You don’t trust Grateful Peace then?” Derian asked, both apprehensive and weirdly relieved.

“No more than I must,” Elise replied firmly. “He could find contacts out in the streets if he is minded to betray us. However, we do not need to make it easy for him. He may think twice if he needs take risks with his own life.”