The woman looked critically down at Jermain, then back at the Captain. “Not at all,” she said firmly. “He does not look in the least dangerous. I’m quite willing to believe he is extremely foolish, but a great many people are, and I have never heard of anyone being executed for it, though I couldn’t say for sure that it’s never happened. Of course, if he continues to run about with that wound bleeding all over everything and making such a mess, you won’t have to.”
Morenar frowned and tried again. “Lady, we have been chasing this man for four hours; I assure you there is no mistake.”
“Well, it is certainly rude of you to contradict me, and I don’t believe you at all,” the woman said flatly. “At least, I believe you have been chasing him, but not for four hours, and certainly he’s not a criminal. Though I can understand why you say so; it would probably be very awkward for you to explain. So many things are; awkward, I mean. Large kettles, for instance, and carrying three brooms at once, and those fat brown birds with the red wings whose name I can’t remember just at present. They waddle.”
“Lady,” Morenar said, “we have not made a mistake.”
“I didn’t say you had. You obviously weren’t paying attention. Why are you chasing him?” the woman said.
“We are under orders direct from Leshiya,” Morenar replied, obviously relieved that the woman seemed to be making sense at last.
“But Leshiya is the capital of Sevairn,” the woman said gently. “And, of course, you’re not in Sevairn just now, and neither am I; but then, there are a great many places that aren’t—in Sevairn, I mean—so perhaps you hadn’t noticed. The border is back that way.” She pointed.
The Captain stared at her for a moment. “We have wasted enough time,” he said abruptly. “Alver, Rusalk, escort the lady elsewhere, at once.”
Two of the soldiers swung down from their horses and started forward. Jermain tensed, wondering whether he was strong enough to get away while they were attending to the woman. He didn’t think so; he seriously doubted whether he could even get himself upright again, much less stay there. Beside him, the woman rose to her feet. She looked at the two soldiers, then at Morenar. “This is not wise of you,” she said softly. “Not wise at all.”
“Take her,” Morenar said, and the men reached out.
“Well, if you won’t listen,” the woman said, and made a swift throwing motion with both hands.
The two soldiers went stumbling backward into a brownish gray fog that Jermain was certain had not been there a moment ago. One of them screamed; then the brown cloud billowed upward, hiding them, and the rest of the Border Guards, from Jermain. Only a small area around Jermain was free of the fog; Blackflame and the woman and a little grass were the only things he could see. Even they were whirling; Jermain felt a stab of fear. A face bent over him, framed in steel-colored hair.
“Don’t worry,” the woman said as he slipped into unconsciousness. “I will see to things.”
That, thought Jermain with the last of his awareness, is what I am afraid of.
Eltiron leaned outward. The stone of the tower battlements was cool and smooth beneath his hands; nearly all of Leshiya was visible below him in living miniature. This must be the way birds see us when they fly, he thought. I wish I were a bird. He leaned farther, as if the motion would bring him closer to the sky. Somewhere below him a bell chimed.
Startled, Eltiron straightened. A brief wind ruffled his brown hair as he stood concentrating. Three, no, four chimes; he was late again. His shoulders slumped. No matter how much he hurried now, Terrel would still be certain to point out his irresponsibility to everyone when he finally arrived at the King’s Council. There was no point in rushing. Eltiron took a last look upward, then turned and started back into the castle.
Inside the tower Eltiron paused. It wasn’t as if anything important was ever discussed at the Councils anymore; Eltiron’s father and Terrel made most of the decisions in advance. Reluctantly, Eltiron started down the stairs. No, he couldn’t justify missing the meeting completely, even if it only gave Terrel another chance to sneer at him. Eltiron reached the bottom of the stairs and turned down the corridor that led to the Council chambers. His steps slowed as he neared the door. With a sigh he straightened his shoulders and went in.
The two men at the far end of the Council table looked up as Eltiron entered. “It’s about time,” said the large man wearing the gold crown.
Eltiron bowed with deep respect. “Father.” He nodded briefly to the second figure, a handsome blond man in red. “My Lord Terrel.”
“Your Highness.” Terrel’s bow was a hair too shallow and a fraction too brief; no one but Eltiron would have noticed. He looks more like a prince than I do, Eltiron thought resentfully as Terrel resumed his seat. Though Eltiron was tall, Terrel was nearly two fingers’ width taller, and, in addition to his striking good looks, he moved with a practiced grace Eltiron could not seem to imitate, however hard he tried.
“Sit down, sit down,” the King said, waving at an empty chair. “There’s no reason for you to stand around keeping us waiting.”
Eltiron looked around and realized suddenly that there was no one else in the chamber. “I was not told of any change in the time of the Council,” he said as he took a chair. Inwardly, he winced. Practically the first thing he said, and already he sounded apologetic.
“Of course you weren’t,” his father said. “Half the time no one can find you, and the other half you aren’t interested anyway. What I’ve done to deserve a son like you I don’t know.”
Eltiron felt his face grow hot. The King glared at him for a moment, then went on in a milder tone. “The truth is, this time it wasn’t your fault. I’d forgotten until Terrel mentioned it, but you couldn’t very well be present while we discussed your marriage. So I changed the time of the meeting.”
Another one of Terrel’s bright ideas for undermining me, Eltiron thought. Then the rest of the sentence penetrated. “Marriage?”
“Of course, marriage,” his father said irritably. “Didn’t I just say that? We settled it all this morning. You’re going to marry the King of Barinash’s daughter—what’s her name again, Terrel?”
“The Princess Crystalorn,” Terrel said. He smiled. “The marriage will cement the alliance between Sevairn and Barinash; it’s an excellent move.”
“But I don’t want to get married yet, sir,” Eltiron said, finding his voice at last.
“Yet? What do you mean, yet?” the King demanded. “You’re nearly twenty; how long do you expect to wait? Or did you think I was going to leave things to chance?”
“No, sir,” Eltiron said hastily. “But this is very sudden.”
“Oh, you’ll have at least a month to get used to the idea, his father said, waving away the objection. “It’ll take that long to make the rest of the arrangements.”
“The rest of the arrangements?” Eltiron said bitterly. “I see. I am to have no say in the matter. How long has this been under consideration?”
“I think Terrel mentioned it about six months ago,” the King said. “Not that it makes any difference.”
“Six months? For six months you’ve been planning to marry me to this princess I’ve never met, and you never thought to ask me about it?” Humiliation and anger together left Eltiron speechless.
The King frowned. “It’s a fine marriage; it will tie Barinash firmly to Sevairn. You have nothing to complain about.”
“Nothing to complain about!” Eltiron was shocked out of his normal reserve. “Six months ago you never would have considered such an alliance! Before Jermain left, you—”
“Jermain!” The King’s hand slammed down on the arm of his chair. “I told you I never wanted to hear that traitor’s name again! Yet every time I see you, it’s Jermain this and Jermain that, until I wonder whether you know any other name in the world. Enough of Jermain!”
“Prince Eltiron was close to Jermain,” Terrel said. “It is natural that he would wish to defend his friend.”
“It should not be natural for my son to defend a traitor!” the King roared.
Eltiron winced. “Father, I—”
“Silence! You will marry whom I tell you to, and you will make alliances where I say you will, and if you mention Jermain to me again, I will have you imprisoned for treason yourself! Is that clear?”
“But—”
“No more arguments! You may go. Go watch the birds, or write a poem for your bride, or whatever it is you do with your time! Go!”
“Yes, Father.” Eltiron’s shoulders slumped. As he turned to leave, he saw the gleam of satisfaction in Terrel’s eyes; it was almost more than he could stand. He bit back a half-formed comment and left the room. The door closed silently behind him, but he could still feel Terrel’s eyes on his back, as if the man could see through wood and stone. He shivered and walked rapidly away.
CHAPTER 2
A
s soon as he realized that he was awake, Jermain opened his eyes. He was lying in a narrow bed near one wall of a large, rather cluttered, circular room that smelled of cloves and honey. Directly across from him was a solid wooden door; beside it a flight of stone stairs led upward, curving partway around the wall of the room to vanish into an opening in the ceiling, just above the foot of the bed. A rough-hewn table occupied the center of the floor. Three mismatched chairs stood around it, and a large black bird was perched on the back of the tallest, preening. A squirrel sat on a window ledge nearby, scolding noisily.
Someone had bandaged Jermain’s side while he’d slept; he could feel the tautness of the linen as he breathed. His side still ached, but the pain was no longer insistent. Perhaps he had only bruised his ribs after all, not broken them. Jermain sat up carefully. He was considering what to do next when the door swung open.
“Be quiet, Garren,” said a female voice, and the squirrel stopped chattering at once. An instant later, the woman who had rescued Jermain from the guards appeared in the doorway. She went straight to the table without bothering to shut the door behind her. She set down the armload of plants she was carrying, then turned to observe the air in Jermain’s general vicinity.
“I’m so glad you’re feeling better,” she said. “That is, if you are. You haven’t said anything about it, so perhaps you aren’t, which wouldn’t be at all surprising, what with losing all that blood and breaking a rib and so on, though possibly you’d rather I didn’t go into detail. Still, I do think it’s a mistake not to talk about unpleasant things, even if people are sensitive; after all, if one worried all the time about offending people, one would never say anything, which in some cases would be a very good thing.”
“I am glad of the chance to thank you for your timely rescue, lady,” Jermain said. He rose and bowed, wincing. “My name is Jermain Trevannon.”
“How nice for you,” the woman said. “Mine is Amberglas. Do sit down again; you really aren’t recovered yet, and it would be inconvenient for me to have to put you back together again.”
The bed creaked as Jermain sat down. The squirrel made a disapproving noise. Amberglas pulled out one of the chairs and seated herself at the table. She picked up one of the plants she had brought in and blinked at it, then set it aside and took another.
“Lemon verbena is quite out of season,” she said. “Still, it ought to be good for something, if I can only think what; nearly everything is. Except skunk weed. If you can think of a use for a skunk weed plant, you may have the one growing at the edge of my garden. I can’t imagine why I leave it there, but if you take it, then of course I’ll know. Why ever were all those unpleasant people chasing you?”
Jermain hesitated. “I’m an outlaw,” he said at last. He was surprised by the bitterness in his voice; he’d thought he was used to it by now.
“That has nothing to do with it,” Amberglas said firmly. “There are a great many outlaws in the mountains, and the Sevairn Border Guards never bother with any of them, which is extremely shortsighted but quite understandable since most of the outlaws are far better at fighting than the guardsmen. It really reflects rather poorly on King Marreth’s training program, but perhaps he doesn’t care about outlaws.”
“Well, he cares about this one,” Jermain said shortly.
“Yes, I know. Or at least, I’d know if you would tell me, which isn’t the same thing at all, but is actually quite close, if you think about it.” Amberglas was still sorting plants, seemingly at random. “Why?”
Jermain studied the woman. Her questions seemed innocent enough, but experience made him reluctant to be too trusting. On the other hand, he had no reason to believe that Amberglas would suddenly hand him over to the very people she had helped him escape. Furthermore, he owed her some explanation; however much he would prefer not to answer, the woman had a right to know whom she had rescued. “King Marreth fears I may return to Leshiya,” Jermain said at last.
“Yes, of course,” Amberglas said to the black bird. “If he didn’t, he wouldn’t send guards after you. Although it does seem a little unusual for a king to be afraid of an outlaw, but then, I haven’t known very many outlaws, so perhaps it’s more common than I’d thought.”
“Most outlaws don’t come from the King’s court in Leshiya.”
“No, that’s quite true. At least, I think it is. I knew a thief once who was from the capital of Tar-Alem, and there are quite a few murderers who come from good families, but that isn’t exactly the same thing. Still, a great many things turn up precisely where one doesn’t want them—rats in bakeries, for instance, and those large green worms on cabbages—so I suppose it’s quite possible for a king’s court to have outlaws. What were you before you were an outlaw?”
“I served King Marreth,” Jermain said. “I was his Chief Adviser for six years.”
“You must be very good at giving advice.” Amberglas dropped a small blue-flowered plant on a pile of middle-sized red flowers and looked up. “Why did you become an outlaw?”
“I had very little choice,” Jermain said. “Between Terrel and Eltiron, I never had a chance. You talk of outlaws at the King’s court; well, Terrel Lassond fits the description. He’s the sort who would sacrifice the whole country if it would help him get what he wanted. I wish Marreth joy of his new adviser.”