"Then where in the deepsea is the Marshal's daughter?" "Don't know!" snarled Wiezal. "We're looking! There's people out. If she don't turn up in Langmarsh, we'll look elsewhere."
"We don't have forever, Wiezal."
"Shouldn't take forever. Just got misled, that's all."
"Purposefully misled, do you think?"
As he thought seriously on the question, Wiezal lifted a nostril, which lifted one side of his lip, letting a sharp tooth show at the corner. "No. Seems the Colonel promised this wedding long ago. Not something he just thought up. Coincidental, more like."
"I understood the Colonel was in love with the girl." Wiezal shrugged. "Nobody saw them together. Not without her maid or somebody there. Maybe she loves him. Or visus vercy. It didn't get far, if so. Besides, Marshal wouldn't have it."
So the Marshal wouldn't have it, ah? Which might explain the fact she'd run off without her lover! That was a complication to keep in mind. "Wiezal, find Colonel Aufors Leys. I want him here, before me, soonest. And Wiezal..."
"Sir?"
"I don't want him damaged. I need him in good working order."
"Ah. Soon as may be."
"Sooner than that."
Wiezal slipped out and away while Delganor sat in his chair and brooded. No matter how well he planned, there were always these little glitches. The flow of his life was not clear and straight. There were opacities. Eddies. But small, small, nothing in the way of a maelstrom or a tidal wave. Not that Haven needed fear tidal waves. It took long, sloping shores for tidal waves to build their force, and there were no long, sloping shores around Haven. No long sloping shores in Delganor's life, either. His way was straight up, a cliff to scale, a peak to ascend. There was only one height beyond his own, the rule of Haven, including Mahahm, which would belong to him in time.
In fact, Mahahm might belong to him before the rest of Haven did.
They were a poor people in Mahahm, and this mission to offer them royalties for P'naki would whet their appetites. Later he would make another such trip, to offer something else they hungered for. Delganor had seen Mahahm. There was only one thing there to satisfy any hunger at all, and with that one satisfied, they had to hunger for something else. He would find out what it was, just as he would find Genevieve, sooner or later. These were not major matters. They were merely, annoyances.
They were not the only annoyances of that morning. Before noon, another visitor was announced: a messenger from Lord Solven, Earl of Ruckward.
He came in at a march, clicked his heels, bowed, and said: "My master the Earl of Ruckward presents his compliments, Your Highness."
"No doubt," said Delganor. "And does he present else?"
"His apologies, Your Highness. The Right Honorable Earl of Ruckward wishes you to know well in advance that he may be unable to accompany Your Highness on the trade mission scheduled for later this year. Lady Lyndafal, the Countess of Ruckward, has unaccountably disappeared, and the Right Honorable Earl is greatly distraught."
The Prince sat as one petrified, unmoving, seeming scarcely to breathe. At last, barely above a whisper, he murmured, "The child."
"Sir?"
"She had a child? Didn't she?"
"Two children, Your Highness. A toddler daughter, and the infant, also a girl."
"And where are they?"
"The older child is with her father at Ruckton, sir. The baby disappeared with the Countess. Both mother and child are feared drowned."
Delganor's teeth ground together audibly. He took a deep breath and said, "Tell the Earl that I sympathize with his feelings and appreciate his timely information. Tell him, please, that I will be in touch at a later time."
The messenger bowed and left. The Prince sat still as stone, occasionally baring his teeth and drawing back his upper lip, almost as Wiezal had done, though the teeth thus displayed were gray-white, lifeless as dry bone. He sniffed the air, as though he smelled something inimical but could not identify its source. Once, as though barely able to believe what he said, he murmured almost inaudibly, "Another one."
* * *
Long before Genevieve's departure, Aufors Leys had obtained leave from the Marshal and scheduled his trip to attend Enkors's wedding in Reusel-on-mere. With Genevieve gone, there was no reason to change his plans. He anchored Enkors in his determination to wed after forty-some-odd years of single life, and blessed the bride, a no-longer-young but no-less-for-that maiden with more good sense than beauty and a body, Aufors judged, that would come as a happy surprise to his old colleague. During their several long conversations, Aufors enlightened Enkors as to his discoveries in the archives.
"Makes you wonder," said Enkors, slightly tipsy, "if maybe that Prince o Potcher didn't have it right. About some lords bein' a bit old for the job."
Aufors suggested it wasn't the thing to say where it might be overheard, and Enkors had looked guiltily around himself, saying, "Right, Colonel. Oh, right."
It took Aufors two days and nights to get back using post horses, after which he went about his usual work, quite aware that the Marshal was watching him a good deal of the time. Aufors was not himself and did not pretend to be so. Though he had made a pretence of jollity during Enkors's wedding feast, he was not a happy man. He accomplished his duties commendably, as always, but his downcast eyes and strained expression betrayed his distress. He blamed the Marshal for what had happened, and he was not of a mood to make the old soldier feel less guilty, presuming he felt guilty at all.
The Marshal had found himself itched by an unfamiliar feeling of disquiet, though it had nothing to do with his daughter but rather with Aufors himself. Why had he suspected Aufors Leys, a man who had done him nothing but good? Why had he suspected a man who was obviously just as upset as the Marshal himself? After all, it wasn't Aufors's fault if the stupid girl had fallen in love with him!
In this mood of forgiveness, the Marshal found the Colonel in the stable yard with the farrier, looking over the horses to see which needed shoeing. When the farrier started his work, the Marshal invited the Colonel to join him at luncheon. Surprisingly, the Colonel begged off, saying he wasn't feeling all that well.
"Come now, Colonel. You and I must talk."
"About what, sir?"
"About these recent happenings, Colonel. All this about..."
"About Genevieve? What can I say about Genevieve? She is lovely, generous, and intelligent. She has a good deal of kindness about her, and what good will it do us for me to say that?"
"What I want you to say," snapped the Marshal, "is why Yugh Delganor's expression of interest in her sent her over the wall that way."
"She cannot bear him, sir."
"So? So she cannot bear him. She would be Queen, Colonel! Isn't that enough to make up for being unable to bear him?"
Aufors found himself simmering with a rage he could barely conceal. "She may suspect, as do I, that she would not be Queen for long or, indeed, might not survive to be Queen at all. The wives of Haven's royalty do not thrive."
"That's treasonous!" the Marshal shouted, guilt forgotten in a sudden ecstacy of fury.
Aufors said stubbornly, "It's a simple statement of fact. None of Yugh's wives have lasted longer than a year or two, and few members of their families remain alive. The same is true of the Lord Paramount's wives, except for this last woman, whom he married when he was already aged and so was she, a political match, as was said at the time. Heaven knows what the others were."
"What are you alleging?"
Aufors drew himself up to his full, haughty height, confronting the Marshal at eye level. "I do not allege. I describe a condition that exists. If I say that most of the people who walk along the Great Falls Trail in Tansay end up dead at the foot of the cliffs, I am stating a fact. I don't know why they end up there. Rock slides, perhaps. Collapses of terrain. Attacks by beasts. Slippery footing coupled with drunkenness. I don't allege, I simply say the trail is demonstrably dangerous. If I cared about someone, I would have her view the Falls from some othe
r place. Because I care about Genevieve, I would rather see her as a live Marchioness than a dead Queen."
The Marshal huffed, like a bull, working himself up toward another explosion. "You're saying I don't care about her."
"I'm saying nothing of the kind. I have no idea whether you care about her or not. How would I know?"
"You certainly have reason to know!" he shouted. "She has always been well-cared-for, in accordance with the covenants. She has been given her youth. She has enjoyed the house and gardens in Wantresse. She has been well dressed, well kept and fed, well trained-"
Aufors interrupted, as loudly: "Which is also true of your horses, sir. Rather more true, actually. You spend a good deal more time with your horses. Nonetheless, you would sell any one of them for a good price." The Marshal turned red with fury, his neck swelling. "Forgive me," said Aufors between his teeth, controlling himself with a good deal of effort. "I have no right to speak so. It is obvious to me I can no longer maintain the neutrality and balance which are necessary for me to work beneficially for you, Lord Marshal. I have been training someone to take my place, and I think it would be best, sir, for you to hire him at once as I offer my resignation as your equerry forthwith."
He had said far more than he meant to say, the Marshal had heard a good deal more than he had thought to hear, and they parted in mutual fury. The Marshal started to say that officers were obliged to fulfil their specified terms of service, but then bethought himself that he had not appointed Aufors to a specified term, leaving him quite free to go elsewhere.
Aufors sent a note to the selected replacement with a written introduction to the Marshal. He then went to his quarters and packed his belongings, arranging with one of the footmen to store them for later dispatch. Meantime the Marshal sat simmering in his office. When Halpern came in and respectfully requested a word, the Marshal only nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
"Sir, I hate to trouble you with such a matter at a time like this, but if Lady Genevieve is to be away for very long, we will need to hire a housekeeper."
"I don't understand you," grunted the Marshal.
"You have several dinners planned, sir, as well as certain other social events. The Marchioness was handling all the arrangements. I could perhaps catch up to it, sir, but then I would have to have someone to fill in for me. Her absence just at this time is most sorely felt...."
"For heaven's sake, man. What has she to do with it? You people do the work, do you not?"
"No sir, that is, not all of it, sir."
"So, how much time did she spend on this? A few moments a day?"
Halpern looked shocked. "She began with the cook at seven in the morning, sir, and she often finished up with the accounts after you had gone to bed, with very little time to herself in between."
The Marshal stared at him. "You're joking."
Halpern bit back a retort, turning rather red himself, saved by the cool intrusion of another voice: Duchess Alicia, who stood in the doorway, accompanied by an embarrassed footman.
"I am sorry, Marshal, I couldn't help but overhear. Lest you grow angry at an irreplaceable part of your establishment, thereby further handicapping yourself here in Havenor, let me assure you that Halpern does not overstate the case. Genevieve spent many hours every day seeing that your social affairs and this establishment were well managed. Did you think it happened by magic?"
"My dear lady, I simply don't see what all the fuss is about. Halpern makes it sound like a... a profession!"
"Dear Halpern, leave me with the Marshal. Perhaps I can enlighten him." She went so far as to pat the departing butler on one trembling arm before seating herself beside the Marshal.
"Well, sir. Let us try a bit of education. What does it cost to prepare and serve a dinner for thirty people?"
He frowned. "I have no idea."
"Genevieve knew, to the penny. If she had not known, it would have cost you twice what it did. You would have been overcharged by your wine merchant, the confectioners, the butcher, and any number of other persons who live on the fat meat that falls from the tables of the ignorant. Unless you are far wealthier than we all assume, in short order you would have been ruined. Genevieve knew how much to spend heating this house this winter, how to get repairs done economically, how to handle the servants to keep them contented and working well. If Halpern decides to leave your employ-which is entirely possible, considering your manner toward him-who will you get to take his place who knows half what he knows about this place? Genevieve knew the answer to that, and also how to keep him more or less satisfied."
"All right, all right," he growled. "Perhaps there is more to it than I thought. So, I'll let Aufors do it..." He stopped, biting his lip. "Damn!"
"So Aufors has resigned," said the Duchess, accurately reading his expression. She was silent and thoughtful a long moment, then she came to herself and said, "It doesn't surprise me. He would have gone long ago except for Genevieve."
He went on fuming wordlessly, while she sat a time, peering intently into his brooding, granite face. At last, she said:
"Well, you seem set in edgy stone, and I have no time to spend smoothing you into something gentler. I came to bid you farewell, for I have received word that my daughter has also disappeared. I'm leaving today for Ruckward, by way of Reusel-on-mere. My granddaughter needs Grandma to comfort her."
"What should I do about Aufors?" he asked, not even having heard her. "What should I do about Genevieve?"
She sighed, shaking her head at him. "Send him after her. Believe me, he'll find her eventually. Tell him you have no objection to their marrying."
"That would be ridiculous! He's a commoner!"
"He's uncommon, Marshal, and you know it! More uncommon than nine-tenths the nobility!"
"But... Delganor..."
"When and if Delganor says anything, you apologize and say you're dreadfully sorry, but the young ones were so in love it seemed appropriate, sensible, prudent, for them to wed."
"He'll be furious."
"I don't know. He may be. On the other hand... he may not. Now, I must go. My carriage is waiting." She rose, pulled on her gloves, and sailed out.
The Marshal growled and glowered as he heard her speaking to Halpern in the hall, and by the time he figured out what he intended to do, Aufors Leys was halfway down the alleyway behind the stables. Though a footman was sent after him, the man returned much out of breath, saying he could not catch the Colonel and no one knew where he had gone.
Finally, and only then, did the Marshal realize what the Duchess had said. Her daughter, too, had disappeared.
"Another one," he muttered gloomily.
"Your Highness."
A footman was at the Prince's door. "Your Highness, Colonel Aufors Leys requests an audience."
"That was quick," murmured the Prince. "Did Wiezal bring him?"
"No, sir. He came, just now, of his own accord."
The Prince sat up and blinked twice, slowly, like a lizard, looking over the footman's shoulder into some vast distance. A tiny smile moved across his lips, evanescent as cloud shadow.
"Well, well. Do let him come in."
Aufors entered in military fashion, his cape flowing from his shoulder, his tall bonnet in the crook of his arm, clean-shaven as an egg, his back straight as he bowed. "Your Highness."
The Prince purred, "Colonel Leys. Is there something I can do for you, Colonel?"
Aufors licked dry lips and said, "Your Highness is generous to grant me a hearing. We met, as you may recall, at the home of the Lord Marshal. You may recall his daughter."
"Ah, yes," said the Prince vaguely. "Lovely girl."
"Quite so, Your Highness. I know that it is preferred that young women here at court not be attached, as they are all given duties to perform, but she and I are in love. It was nothing either of us intended, it just happened."
"Ah," said the Prince, with a slight frown. "I see. Well. That is most interesting, but I fail to see what... it has to do
with me...." He allowed his voice to trail away.
"Something that happened at dinner apparently frightened her terribly," said Aufors, keeping his eyes down and thereby missing the slight amusement that again crossed the Prince's face. "She has run away, she may be in danger, away from the protection of her family."
"Frightened her?" mused the Prince, frowning slightly. "What could have happened at a dinner party? I knew most everyone there, scarcely a villainous crowd." He peered down his nose, as though expecting a comment on this judgment.
Aufors made none. "I can't say what frightened her, sir. But I feel that I must find her, wherever she has gone. It is apparent to me that she feels unprotected and insecure."
"Then why in heaven's name didn't you go with her?" asked Delganor, without thinking, real irritation in his voice. "I should have thought you would have done so!"
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