The Queen of Mages (17 page)

“What about you?” Asmus said, swinging his
attention to Liam. “Is there anything odd about the lady?”

“Nothing remarkable, m’lord,” Liam said,
straightening. “She has a somewhat unusual past, but nothing that
raises my hackles.”

“If a woman don’t raise your hackles, she
ain’t worth knowing,” Old Ban said.

As Dardan had predicted, once his
recollection came to a close, Asmus leapt up and cursed House
Relindos for swine, thieves, traitors, and worse. And just as
predictably, in scant minutes he wound down. “I suppose your mother
is engaging in her usual machinations.”

Dardan stared oddly at his father for a
moment, then nodded. “I do not pretend to understand what she does,
speaking to her lady friends, but no doubt she will turn this to
our favor in some small way.”

Asmus dismissed his wife’s doings with a
wave of his hand, and sat down again. “Well, I’m glad you all
emerged unscathed, though Lady Amira may bear some hidden scars
that will only become visible in time.”

“She is quite resilient,” Dardan
insisted.

“If all you have said is true, she will make
a fine wife, I’m sure. You are intending to marry her, of
course.”

Dardan paused. “To propose, yes. At some
point. There is no rush. And whether that proposal becomes a
marriage is out of my control.”

Asmus snorted. “Don’t let your mother hear
you say that. And don’t dally too long, or you may wait yourself
out of a perfectly acceptable fate.”

Dardan nodded, looking down at his hands for
a moment. His eyes were clear when they came back up. “I don’t know
how long we’ll need to stay away from Callaston. Mother said she
would send word when matters had settled. Prince Edon may be in
Gravensford for some time.”

Asmus snorted a laugh. “House Relindos could
not banish their son from the city and let you and Amira stay. It
is as likely a way to preserve their honor as it is to encourage
the other nobles of Callaston to forget the whole thing and move
on.” He rapped his knuckles on the desk. “Fear not. There is always
plenty to do here. Baron Parvis and Baroness Lalia are at each
other’s throats again, and I want you to go mediate. I’ve got half
a mind to order them to marry each other just to see the fits
they’d throw.”

Dardan frowned. “Parvis? What happened with
his accusation?”

Liam had almost forgotten about that. It had
been quite the scandal. Parvis Stanton might have convinced them
all of his innocence had he not fled when Asmus ordered him to
stand trial.

“Oh. Well, I found him innocent.”

Dardan stared, mouth agape. “Father, he fled
from justice. How could such a man possibly be innocent?” he asked,
echoing Liam’s thoughts.

Asmus sighed. “I spoke with Baron Parvis
privately before the trial. He admitted that he’d lain with the
girl, with her permission, but said that later she changed her
story.”

“You
believed
him?”

“I have only his word against hers. His
attempted flight speaks poorly of him, but it was possible that
events happened as he said, and he feared an unjust verdict.” Asmus
was growing agitated. He’d always been willing to explain his
decisions to Dardan, saying how important it was that Dardan learn
firsthand how a count should render justice, but rarely did Dardan
challenge him.

Dardan took a deep breath. Liam could tell
that he wanted to argue, but instead he asked, “So what
happened?”

“I forced Parvis to admit in open court that
he had lain with the maiden. You should have seen her father. I was
afraid he’d try to kill Parvis then and there, guilty or innocent.
The girl testified that Parvis coerced her. I had no cause to doubt
her, but…” He waved a hand, as if trying to shoo away the whole
situation. “If she turns up with child because of this, Parvis will
have to pay her family fifty gold crowns.”

“Someone should tell the baron that brothels
are cheaper,” Old Ban said.

Liam flinched a little, expecting Asmus to
berate his
valo
, but Asmus just pressed his lips together
and glared.

“You should have found him guilty,” Dardan
put in. “It’s not right to let a man take advantage of a common
girl like that, even if he is a noble. It’s a sure way to turn the
common folk against us.”

“I believe I have a reasonable grasp of how
the common folk feel about us, boy,” Asmus snapped. “I chastised
Parvis in open court for his foolishness, before all the goodfolk
of Hedenham Town. He won’t soon forget that, and neither will
they.”

“Loud words will bring little comfort to the
girl,” Dardan countered.

“Barons are not so easily dispensed with,”
Asmus said. “His story was barely plausible. But say I did find him
guilty of rape. Now the other barons begin to fear that a single
commoner’s accusation may bring an end to them. Would that be good
for the county, do you think?”

Dardan had no answer this time. Asmus
drummed his fingers on the table, waiting.

“Did you get our message about Vasland, and
the garrison?” Dardan asked, abruptly changing the subject.

“Vasland? Oh, yes. Days past.”

Dardan waited. “And?”

“And I went to Captain Stanton and suggested
he might want to prepare his men.”

“You
what?
” Dardan rose half out of
his chair, but plopped back down. “The letter said specifically not
to do that!”

“Oh, are you the count now?” Asmus said. “I
am always happy to consider advice from you and your mother, but it
was my decision. Besides, I didn’t order Captain Stanton to do
anything. I merely explained the facts to him and let him make the
decision on his own. That he chose to begin readying his men for
war was a happy coincidence.”

“House Relindos will not split hairs so
finely! After the trouble we’ve already had with them…” Dardan
shook his head. Liam wanted to put a hand on his master’s shoulder,
to try and remind him to be calm, but to intervene now would be
foolish.

“I will deal with House Relindos if it comes
to that. Now speak no more of this.”

“Fine.” Dardan’s voice was even, but his
hands were white-knuckled on the chair’s armrests. “On to other
matters. I will go to deal with the barons, but I’d been hoping to
spend as much time as possible with Lady Amira. To improve my
chances.”

“I know how it works, boy! But Hedenham
needs strong hands to guide it, and I am only one man.” Asmus
leaned forward. “You know this will be your domain in time. You
cannot slack off on the reins, or the horse will leap into a river
at the first chance.”

The son ground his teeth. “Yes, father, I
know, but—”

“But what?” Asmus barked. “The work awaits.
You will have plenty of time to tarry with the girl. We will all
dine together this evening, but on the morrow you will go to deal
with Parvis and Lalia. You are no doubt tired and need what rest
you have time for. Off with you.”

Dardan hesitated, then stood and bowed low
before his father. Lower than was appropriate. Asmus noticed, and
his eyes narrowed. Liam wanted to grab Dardan and drag him out
before the lords started shouting at one another, but Dardan
hastened out before another word could be said. Old Ban watched
them go, a lopsided smirk on his weathered face.

Out in the hall, Dardan started to speak,
but Liam grabbed his arm and marched him out into the yard,
shushing him the whole while. “Let it be,” he barked at his master
once they were outside. “Your father loves to argue, but even he
has his limits.”

Dardan stewed, clenching and unclenching his
fists. He stalked off toward the stables, and when Liam made to
follow, Dardan waved him off. “Go, rest. I’ll be fine.”

Liam followed him anyway. Dardan got into
moods like any man, but it was Liam’s duty to stay with his master.
Well, except in bed, or on the privy.

But Dardan was not having it. “I told you to
go.”

“My duty—”

“To the black spirits with your duty! Can’t
a man be alone if he wants?”

Liam was growing more tense by the moment.
He nearly had to run to keep up with Dardan. “A ride, then, m’lord.
You’ve been gone for weeks, you’ll feel better if you see the—”

What he would see, Dardan never heard, for
he spun and shoved Liam so hard that the
valo
lost his
balance and landed sharply on his rear. “Leave me alone!” Dardan
growled, and strode off toward the stables.

Jackass.
Dardan was probably seething
over some perceived insult to his manliness. He’d get over it. He’d
better, anyway.

By the time Liam stood up and dusted himself
off, he heard galloping hoofbeats, and a moment later spied Dardan
atop a stallion, racing down the gravel path to the road. In
moments the young lord was lost to sight. He’d never catch Dardan
now; his master was a better rider, and the Tarians kept fast
horses.

For a few moments Liam felt adrift, so he
thought ahead to when Dardan might return, and that led him to
think what Count Asmus would do if he discovered his noble son was
running about unaccompanied. The prospect of informing Asmus of
this soured his stomach, but he knew it paled by comparison to what
Asmus would do if Liam waited to tell him, or, the Aspect of
Courage forbid, tried to hide it from him altogether.

Still, he wandered the grounds for a few
minutes, stopping by the kennel to watch as Fenimore, the old dog
handler, fed the hounds. This made him think of Gerald again. The
house major had become a widower long before Liam had come into the
Tarians’ service. Some years later, apparently, he’d found
companionship with grouchy Fenimore, of a sort one did not speak of
publicly. They kept their relationship quiet, and Count Asmus did
not bother them about it. It might have bothered Liam to see young
men act so, but Gerald and Fenimore were harmless codgers.

Liam summoned up his courage and returned to
the count’s office. Someone had closed the door in the interim.
“Come,” came Asmus’s gruff reply when Liam knocked.

He went in. Old Ban still stood exactly
where they’d left him, and said nothing as Liam planted himself
before the count’s desk.

“Where’s my son?” Asmus asked before Liam
could say anything.

“He… knocked me down and ran off, m’lord.”
It sounded even more embarrassing out loud than it had in his head.
“He took his horse and galloped down the road.”

It was Liam’s turn to be sniggered at, and
when he turned to look at Old Ban, the count’s
valo
didn’t
bother to hide his grin. “The count ever tried that with me, I’d
sit on him till he came to his senses,” he drawled.

“You did once, as I recall,” Asmus said
dryly. “Children. The bane of my existence! I’d disown the boy if
he weren’t my son.”

While Liam pondered the oddness of that
declaration, Asmus stood up and motioned them both to follow.
“He’ll be back for dinner. Tarians know better than to let their
stomachs stay empty for the sake of pride. Come, let’s see how the
womenfolk are settling in.” He eyed Liam as they walked. “That
vala
of Lady Amira’s. Think she’d be a tough nut to
crack?”

“You have no idea,” Liam muttered.

The weeks passed by in a rush of rides,
picnics, dinners, dances, and courting. Katin lost track of how
many excursions they’d made, mounted on feisty mares to visit a
serene lakeside, or trundling along in a coach to meet the many
barons and merchants of Hedenham County. Amira never seemed to tire
of it. At night, in her chambers, she’d discreetly practice with
her power. Her control over the thing seemed to grow by the day. It
had become routine, even to Katin, and she barely worried any more
whether they’d be discovered.

Occasionally Katin got into a panic that
Edon might come after them, but all the letters from Besiana were
run-of-the-mill gossip, or missives about trade and commerce and
family business. The terrors they’d gone through in Callaston
dwindled into the past, and Katin grew to cherish the safety and
serenity of Hedenham.

Dardan certainly kept busy. His father
constantly dispatched him to settle disputes, oversee road repairs,
meet with barons, and so on. Two or three days at a time he’d be
gone, and when he returned he spent every waking moment with Amira.
Sometimes she went with him on his trips, to meet this or that
noble or merchant, which meant Katin went too. The only time Amira
declined was when Dardan went to visit Baron Parvis Stanton; the
women had heard terrible stories about him and wanted no part of
visiting the man. Katin grew nauseated simply upon hearing his
name.

Amira’s travels with Dardan meant that Liam
spent much time near Katin, and he spent most of it in pursuit of
her. She had hoped he would take her hostility to heart, after that
conversation in Potterton, but it seemed to only increase his
resolve. What lengths a man would go to, to bed a woman! Surely
there must be easier targets in Hedenham.

Katin did not trust him precisely
because
he was so handsome and charming. But he strove daily
to prove his worth. When the footmen and maids and stablehands
walked into town on their day off to visit the shops or some
passing caravan, Liam would only go if Katin was going as well. If
she’d rather tarry in the gardens, or just sit in the servants’
hall and talk, Liam was always game. When she told him—only on
occasion—to leave her alone, he did so without argument. When they
spoke, his tongue was always sharp, and he was always ready with a
jest, but he never turned them against her.

Amira found the whole thing endlessly
amusing. One afternoon they took tea out in the garden, with the
menfolk nowhere in sight. “You really are making things hard on the
man, aren’t you,” Amira observed.

“I see no reason to do otherwise.”

“Is he really so despicable? I know you are
reluctant to engage in… certain activities,” Amira said, for once
keeping her words cautious. She actually even glanced around to
ensure no one was near.

“I wouldn’t call him despicable, m’lady.
He’s so blasted charming, and handsome, and he’s never even tried
to put a hand on me. I’m onto his game.”

“Dear me, I can’t tell if you disapprove of
him or not,” Amira laughed.

Katin just barely stopped herself from
telling Amira to stuff it. Instead she crossed her arms and
pointedly asked if m’lady needed anything. Amira merely smiled and
continued sipping at her tea.

———

On a bright, cloudless morning, two months
into their stay in Hedenham, Amira declared that they would go into
town to visit a trade caravan that had stopped there. The summer
heat had finally broken, and there had been a spell of cool days
and rainstorms for the past week.

Dardan and Liam were off with Asmus,
attending to some matter. Supposedly they were due back that
afternoon. It would have just been Amira and Katin and a pair of
Tarian house guards, if not for Calysane Tarian, Dardan’s
sister.

The girl was Chaos incarnate. The Tarians’
middle child, she was fifteen, only months from her coming of age.
She resented having to wait to attend to the dinner parties and
dances that she considered her birthright. She would interrupt and
correct anyone—even her father—who still called her “Calys,” which
she dismissed as a childish diminutive. She was
Calysane
,
and one forgot that at one’s own peril.

Everyone called her Calys anyway.

She invited herself along on every daylight
excursion, refusing to be left out of anything that might be
amusing. Her governess, a tired woman named Clara, had long since
given up trying to mold the girl into a proper lady. Calys
guffawed, repeated ribald jokes, bluntly stated truths without
regard for tact, and generally gave everyone fits. This endeared
her greatly to Katin.

Naturally, she had attached herself to
today’s party the instant she caught wind of it. Amira never
objected to her presence, but thought the girl was silly, never
mind that she was only four years younger. She pointedly ignored
Calys wherever they went. Calys either didn’t notice or didn’t
care.

They took horses this day, rather than a
coach. “It’s been a dog’s age since there was a caravan in town,”
Calys was saying, as they ambled past a barley farm. “I always
fancy looking at the dresses. They always have such odd styles!”
She pulled back her sun bonnet, letting it ride below her
short-cropped hair, which barely reached to her neck. Calys had
wanted it cut short, and her father had refused, so she had snuck
to the gardener’s shed and used pruning shears to do it herself.
Count Asmus had been enraged, not so much at the messy haircut as
at the defiance. But five minutes later he was laughing heartily
and speculating on whether his wife would faint if she saw Calys’s
hair.

The sun smiled down on them as they came
into Hedenham Town. The trade caravan with its garishly painted
wagons had shown up the previous evening and set up shop in the
square. Townsfolk swarmed all around it,
ooh
ing and
aah
ing over the fine silks, haggling over odd trinkets,
warily examining the strange foods from foreign lands. Calys
claimed that she’d heard the caravan had gotten its wares from
ships docking at Seawatch, far to the northeast.

The party pulled up short when a young man
came running out of Master Stephens’s counting-house on the edge of
the square. Ilya Tarian was coming into the gawky phase of his
youth, his arms gangling down his side like a scarecrow. His true
name was Illadrin, but unlike his sister, he preferred the shorter
nickname. He bunked with other apprentices here in town, yet most
nights made the trek to Tinehall for dinner with the family.

“Hello, sister!” he shouted out. “Lady
Amira,” he added, bowing deeply to her.

Calys looked down at him as only an older
sister can. “Shouldn’t you be inside counting something?”

“I saw you through the window and asked
Master Stephens for a moment to greet you. Is Dardan back
soon?”

“This afternoon,” Amira said. “I believe we
will be dining at the manor, all together.”

“Yes, it’s been
days
since you and
Dard made lovey-dovey eyes at each other,” Calys said, sniggering.
Amira ignored her, but Katin thought her jaw tightened a little.
Amira had become very picky about how her developing relationship
with Dardan was referred to. She had made it clear to Katin that
she was most certainly not in love with the man.

“Calys is just jealous that no one makes
eyes at her,” Ilya smirked.

“My name is
Calysane!
” the girl
shrieked, kicking her leg out at her brother. Her horse danced back
suddenly, and she lost her balance, clinging to the saddle for a
moment before righting herself. Ilya scampered back inside the
counting-house, cackling.

———

The caravan made for a fine diversion,
though Katin saw little that she might actually want to own. They
browsed a while, then visited the splendid temple beside the
square. Amira stopped to pray there every time they came into town,
and Katin had long since resigned herself to it.

They took luncheon at the Copper Kettle, the
large homey inn across from the temple, rather than return to the
manor. They had finished eating and were having their tea when
hooves clopped on the stones outside. Moments later the Tarian men
burst in the door, arguing.

“The baron will find a way to avoid paying
for the repairs, father, you know I’m right.”

“He’ll do what I tell him, and that’s that!”
Asmus growled back. Dardan threw his hands up, but then spied Amira
and the others from across the common room. He doffed his hat,
straightened his hair, and made for them. Katin felt a twinge—some
feeling she could not quite identify—when she saw Liam behind
him.

Dardan approached the table and bowed to the
womenfolk. “Lady Amira. You look radiant.” Katin watched her
mistress as she smiled up at the lordling and spoke to him. It was
a true smile, reaching her eyes. Despite her protestations that she
was not in love with him, Amira had also confided that in all the
time she’d spent with Dardan, she’d never seen a cruel mark in his
behavior. Like all men, especially the young, he was prone to
occasional fits of anger and pride, but none of his rancor ever
survived past the moment, and he went out of his way to be
courteous and generous toward commoners. It was not unusual for him
to stop what he was doing to converse with this farmer or that
carpenter or blacksmith, simply to ask how they fared and whether
there was anything their lord could do for them.

Amira had finally come to the conclusion
that if Dardan did propose marriage, she would accept. She had
admitted to Katin that aside from being plain of looks and a little
short on humor, there was little that could be said against him.
She might not love Dardan, but they both knew that that was no bar
to a noble marriage. The other Tarians were feisty and thoroughly
loving, and Hedenham would be a pleasant enough place to live one’s
life.

And what about Katin’s own life? Liam had
not once slackened in his quest. She had grown angry when she’d
caught herself thinking once that maybe it might not be so bad, to
feel his lips on hers…

“Katin? Katin!” Amira said.

Katin started, and then blushed when she
realized that everyone else was staring at her, just as she’d been
staring at Liam. “M’lady?” she said, trying to regain some
semblance of dignity. Calys was giggling quietly behind her hand,
and right then Katin did not feel charitable toward her.

Dardan cleared his throat. “It would please
me to take my lady to visit Baroness Dyane’s gardens. They are most
wondrous. Our last visit to the baroness’s manse was in the
evening, and so we did not see them.”

Everyone agreed that this was a wonderful
idea. As they all prepared to leave, Katin found herself standing
beside Liam, and Dardan strode up to them. “I believe that we shall
be quite well attended, what with father, Old Ban, and Calys and
Clara, and the house guards. Perhaps you two should take some time
for, um… a stroll.” He nodded firmly, clearly satisfied, and left.
Katin’s cheeks burned. Had Liam enlisted his master in conspiring
to send the
valai
off together? The nerve of the man!

Liam offered his arm to Katin. “If miss is
ready?”

Dubious, she took his arm. She realized her
heart was pattering as she watched the others mount up and trot
away across the square. “I fear for this town when Calys comes of
age,” she said, trying to ease her own nervousness. It had gotten
harder for her to make cracks at Liam’s expense.

Liam snorted. “Asmus will reap what he has
sown. Calys’s parents are two of the most stubborn people I’ve ever
met.”

“That poor woman Clara. I doubt there’s a
governess alive who could bring Calys in line.”

“Ah, the world’s a better place with Calys
the way she is. Gives a spark to the whole thing. But, erm, Calys
is not the young lady I wish to speak about just now.” They’d been
strolling slowly along the edge of the square, and now Liam came to
a halt and turned to face Katin. “Miss Berisha, this is not
something I do often, so pray forgive me if I express myself
poorly.”

Katin raised an eyebrow. “Now you sound like
a lord. Am I to expect bad news?”

Liam laughed. “No, nothing like that. I’m
far too fond of you to, er…” He trailed off, looking a little
startled at what he’d said.

She could not pass up that opening. “Do go
on. I’m ever so keen to hear more on this topic.”

“Ah. Yes. We’ve, well, we’ve spent quite
some time together these past months. I feel that we’ve come to
know each other quite well. Er, when in Hedenham—that is, in
Hedenham, when a man wishes to… to bring a proposal to a lady…”

She felt her jaw drop open, and clamped it
shut. Was he about to
propose
to her? A man like him,
waiting for marriage? Her mind reeled at the prospect.

And how dare he think that she would be
amenable to such a thing? When had she ever given him the slightest
hint that she might have an interest in him? Merely because they
spent so many hours in one another’s company? Merely because she’d
allowed him to take her on long walks around the Tarians’ gardens?
Merely because…
Oh dear.

Liam had stopped when her mouth opened. “Go
on,” she said, not trusting herself to express anything more
complex.

“Ah, well, when a man wants to bring his
proposal to a lady—that is, a proposal of marriage, well, um…” He
trailed off again, staring into her eyes.

She could not bear it any longer. “Wha—are
you actually—I can’t believe you’d go as far as marriage to get me
into bed!”

Liam’s eyes went wide. “What? No! Oh no, no,
I’m not proposing to
you
! I would never—I mean, not
never—but you—augh!” He grunted in frustration and stomped a few
steps away.

Now Katin was thoroughly befuddled. “What in
the black spirits is this about?” she demanded.