Winds of Fury (31 page)

I think that this is likely to be a very late night,
Talia thought, motioning discretely to one of the pages near her Council seat. “Go order enough food and wine for all the Councillors, then recruit some of the final-year trainees to serve it and replace the pages,” she whispered to him. He was one of the older pages, and nodded with both understanding and relief. He had served the Queen and Council long enough to know how long one of these emergency sessions could last, and while he might have been disappointed at not being able to listen in on the proceedings, the disappointment was countered by the relief that he would not be stuck in the Council chamber until the sun rose.

There was something to be said for having a limited level of responsibility.

As the pages filed out, to be replaced
by
wide-eyed youngsters in trainee-Grays, Selenay rose to address her Council. The men and women seated around the horseshoe-shaped table fell silent, and lamplight gleamed on jewels and brilliant court-garb. Behind Selenay, the huge crest of Valdemar seemed to glow.

“I am certain that many of you fear that I am going to oppose this abdication,” she said, with calm and equanimity. Talia knew better than anyone here that the calm was not feigned, it was real. She and Selenay had spent many nights in Elspeth's absence, trying to find a way to reconcile the conflicts that Elspeth's duties would place her in when she returned, but both of them had assumed that Elspeth would never want to give up her position as Heir. They had both been wrong, and Elspeth's elegant solution to the conflict, while creating several
more
entirely new problems, had solved more than it created.

Selenay locked eyes with each of her Councillors in turn, as Talia assessed their emotional state with her Gift of Empathy. Troubled, most of them, but excited. A bit apprehensive. Afraid that Selenay was going to make difficulties.

“Well,” she said, with a wan smile, “Elspeth is wiser than I, and far more expedient. For the moment, although they are not yet Chosen, I am naming Kris and Lyra joint Heir-presumptives. Since they are so very young, being guarded day and night and kept from much public contact is going to do very little harm to them, and given that I am going to assign their safety into the hands of Guardsmen picked by Herald-Captain Kerowyn and Heralds and their Companions picked by my Consort, I think it unlikely that
anyone
will be able to threaten them with such formidable nurses on the watch.”

There was overall relief at that, relief so palpable Talia was surprised no one else could feel it, unGifted though they might be.

“It seems to me that the first thing we should do is to ensure that word of Elspeth's abdication spreads as far and as fast as possible,” the Queen continued. “This will give her a greater margin of safety, and confuse Ancar completely. And at the same time, we should see to it that the reports of her demonstration of magical powers are as exaggerated as possible.” Selenay smiled slyly. “The more Ancar thinks we have, the less he is likely to attempt a sudden attack. Let him believe that Elspeth brought us an army of mages and peculiar creatures, at least until his own spies tell him otherwise. That will give us some breathing space.”

Nods and speculative expressions all around the table. Herald-Captain Kerowyn spoke up—and Talia noticed then with some amusement that in the brief time between when Court had been adjourned and the Council had been called, she had managed to change out of her despised “oh-shoot-me-now” Whites. “This is the time to use those night-message relays, Majesty,” she said. “Ancar will be sure to read the messages if we make certain that at least one of the towers ‘happens' to reflect to the border when they relay on.” She grinned. “We can thank him for that much, at least. Companions and Heralds may be invaluable for carrying messages that are supposed to be secret, but the towers are unmatched for relaying anything you
want
your enemy to know.”

“See to it,” Selenay said with a nod, and Kerowyn frowned with thought for a moment, then scribbled down the message she wanted relayed and handed it to one of the trainees to take outside.

“Now, how can we use this situation to our best advantage?” the Queen continued. “We have the potential to gain a lot of time here, if we use it well.” She looked around the table at her Councillors for suggestions. And now the mood had changed, from one of apprehension to one of anticipation and hope.

Talia relaxed further, and surreptitiously gave Selenay the sign that all was well.

For the moment, at any rate. That was all that anyone could count on right now.

E
lspeth knew that Treyvan and Hydona had resigned themselves to some kind of stabling situation when they reached Haven. Instead, somewhat to their astonishment, the gryphons had been housed in the visiting dignitaries' apartments just like the humans. Elspeth was pleased, but not completely surprised. She had recalled a set of two large rooms usually left empty, meant for receptions and the like. When the Seneschal had told her that the gryphons would be treated like any other diplomatic visitor and housed in the Palace, she thought of those two rooms. A question to the pages the next morning confirmed her guess was right. Those rooms were needed often enough that they remained ready and empty at all times; there was no reason why the gryphons couldn't have them. To reach the second room, you had to go through the first, so the arrangement was perfect. The gryphlets could nest in the inner room, and the adults in the outer.

Elspeth, Darkwind, and Firesong went straight to the reception rooms as soon as she confirmed the gryphons were there. The doors—double doors, like the ones in the Throne Room—were standing partially open, as if the gryphons were inviting visitors to come in. The room was completely empty, except for the lanterns on the wall and the adults' nest. She had expected nests of hay and sticks, however, and was greatly surprised to find that instead they had built “nests” of piles of featherbeds, with tough wool blankets over them to save the beds from the punishing effects of sharp talons.

“Featherbeds?” she asked, raising one eyebrow. “My—how luxurious!”

“And why ssshould we make nessstsss of nassty sssticks when we may have sssoft pillowsss?” Treyvan asked genially, lounging at his ease along one side of the “nest.”

“I have no idea,” she replied with a laugh that made the feather fastened prominently at the side of her head tremble. “I just wasn't aware that featherbeds were part of a gryphon's natural forests. No one ever told me that there were wild featherbed trees.”

“And what made you think we werrre wild creaturesss?” Hydona put in, with a sly tilt of the head. “When have we everrr sssaid thisss?”

“She has you there,” Darkwind pointed out. Firesong simply shook his head.

“Do not come to me for answers,” the Healing Adept said. “What I do not know about gryphons is far more than what I do know! I cannot help you; for all that
I
know, they could nest in crystal spires, live upon pastries, and build those flying barges that we saw Kaled'a'in use—out of spiderwebs.”

“We do not build the barrrgesss,” was all that Treyvan would say. “And you know well that we do not eat passstrriess! But thisss iss not to the point; what isss—we musst find sssomeone who knowsss what has been going on herrre sssince you left, featherrrlesss daughterrrr.” He gave her an opaque look. “Desspite that all ssseemsss quiet, it isss a quiet I did not trrrussst.”

Somehow it didn't surprise Elspeth to hear Treyvan call her that, as he called Darkwind “featherless son.” His sharp eyes had gone straight to the feather braided into her hair the moment she and Darkwind had entered the room. Although he had said nothing, she knew he knew what it meant. She felt warmth and pleasure at the gryphons' approval. She had Starblade and Kethra's approval of this liaison, but in many ways the gryphons were a second set of parents to her lover, and winning their approval as well made her spirits rise with a glow of accomplishment. That glow of accomplishment faded quickly, though. Treyvan was right. This was the calm before the storm, and there was no telling how long the calm would last. Days—weeks—or only candlemarks. Too soon, whenever the storm broke.

“If there is anyone in this Kingdom who knows everything important, it's Herald-Captain Kerowyn,” she said decisively. Of course Kero knew everything; she was in charge of Selenay's personal spies, and she might have a good guess as to when this calm
would
end.

“Now, we have two choices,” she continued. “We can bring her here or we can go to find her. The latter choice is not going to be quiet. Treyvan, you and Hydona are the most conspicuous members of this rather conspicuous group; would you rather we brought her to you, or would you rather that as many people saw you as possible?”

“I
would rather they stayed put,” came a clear, feminine voice from the door, “but that's my choice, not theirs. On the other hand, here I am, so you don't have to come looking for me.”

Kerowyn pushed the door completely open and gazed on the lounging gryphons with great interest. “We can move elsewhere if you want,” she continued, looking into Treyvan's golden gaze, “but there isn't anywhere much more secure than this room, if you're worried about prying eyes and nosy ears, if I may mix my metaphors.”

It was Treyvan who answered. “Yesss, warrriorrr. I am trroubled with thosssse who may overrrhearrr. But I alssso wisssh to know why you wisssh usss to rrremain in ourr aerrrie. You do not trrussst usss, perrrhapsss?”

Elspeth didn't know if Kero could read gryphonic body language, but Treyvan was very suspicious. He did not know what Kero's motives were, and he was not taking anything for granted. This set of rooms could easily turn into a prison.

Kero laughed and entered the room, her boots making remarkably little noise on the granite floor. “Simple enough, good sir. You may have convinced the highborn, Heralds, and Companions that you're relatively harmless, but you haven't gotten to all the servants, and you'll never convince some of the beasts. You go strolling about the grounds without giving me the chance to sweep them first, and you'll panic a dozen gardeners, scare the manure out of most of the horses and donkeys, and cause every pampered lapdog that highborn girls are walking in the garden to keel over dead of fright. You don't
really
want angry gardeners and weeping girls coming in here yapping at you, do you?”

Treyvan snapped his beak mischievously. No matter how serious a situation was, he could find something amusing in it. “No,” he replied. “I think not.” Already he was relaxing; Kero had put him at his ease.

“Excellent.” Kero was not in Whites—as usual. She wore riding leathers of a dusty brown, worn and comfortable, her long blonde hair in a single braid down her back. She turned to give Elspeth a long and considered appraisal, lingering over the new Whites. “Well, what is this all about?” she continued. “Trying to set new fashions?”

Elspeth shrugged. “Whatever. I can promise you I can fight in them. Not that I expect anyone to be able to get close enough to me to have to deal with them hand-to-hand.”

“Oh, really?” Kero turned away—then lunged, with no warning at all, not even by the tensing of a single muscle.

But not unexpectedly; Elspeth had been her pupil for too long ever to be taken by surprise, especially after tossing out a challenge like that one. Instead, it was Kero who got the surprise, as Elspeth lashed out with a mage-born whip of power and knocked her feet out from under her. Kero went down onto the marble floor in a controlled tumble, and if Elspeth had not been as well-trained as she was, Kerowyn could have recovered for another try at her. But Elspeth was not going to give her that chance. She kept a “grip” on Kero's ankles to keep her off her feet, then wrapped her up in an invisible binding. Kero did not resist, as most Valdemarans would have. Elspeth knew she had seen magic often enough when she led the Skybolts as a mercenary company in Rethwellan and southward. She simply waited, lying there passively, until Elspeth released her, then got to her feet, dusting off her hands on her breeches.

“You'll do,” was all she said, but Elspeth glowed from the compliment, and Darkwind winked at her.

“And you have learned much of magic, lady,” Firesong observed. “Enough to know not to fight mage-bonds, which is far more than anyone else in this land would know. And I am curious to know how you came by this knowledge.”

Kero gave Firesong a long and penetrating look; in his turn, he graced her with one of his most charming smiles. It would have taken a colder woman than Kero to ignore that smile; it would have taken a more powerful wizard than Firesong for that smile to affect her. But in the end, she decided to answer him.