Trickster's Queen

by Tamora Pierce

  “The Crown will go berserk,” Fesgao said, his eyes burning. “The governor of Ikang and the governor of Tongkang killed within a week of each other? Never has such a thing happened, not after the Conquest!”

  “And more,” said Ochobu. “Just this last, so let me finish. The Velochiru raka on Imahyn have burned the homes of the overseer and of the family. The governor there has sent a call for more troops.”

  Ulasim rested a hand on her shoulder. “You're done, Mother,” he said kindly. “Rest awhile. What did you do, speak with every mage on the Chain tonight?”

  She glared up at him. “I'm not senile,” she snapped.

  Ulasim gave his crooked smile. “Ysul, will you reach the Chain mage closest to Nawat? Ask him to ask Nawat if he will take a look into the situation on Imahyn?”

  Ysul nodded and left them.

  Dove looked after him, then at Ulasim. “Do all the mages of the Chain know hand signs?”

  Quedanga was mending a sarong. “Ysul writes the message and shows it to them. General, if we don't get atop this storm, it's going to roll straight over us,” she warned. “I don't know if the god arranged it this way, or if it's just a dam bursting, but we need to take control of it.”

  Ulasim leaned against the wall. “We'll have a way soon to make contact with the would-be rebels among the luarin,” he remarked in an even voice. “I expect more fights in the city over the next week. It seems clear enough to me that the Crown cannot control this city and the outlying islands, too. If the regents send more troops away from here, we may have an opportunity to announce ourselves—we shall see. In the meantime, Aly will continue with her work. Fesgao and I have a project or two, as have Mother and Ysul. Quedanga and Aly, make certain everyone hears of what has taken place on Tongkang and Imahyn. Chenaol—”

  “Crow-fletched arrows,” said the cook, who was also their armorer. “It would be easy if I had a ready supply.”

  “I'll ask the crows,” Aly said. “I'm sure they know where they've lost feathers. Have they been bringing in Stormwing feathers from their brushes with them? Nawat asked them to before we came here.”

  “I find a pile of them by the kitchen well every evening,” replied Chenaol. “And since we've no longer got Nawat to cut them up and use them on arrows, my girls have found a way to turn them into throwing darts and set the shafts in hilts so they become knives. Pity the beasts aren't cleaner,” she mused. “The feathers would be perfect for tissue-cut raw fish, but we don't know where those feathers have been. Even after boiling I don't trust them.”

  “There will be more,” Quedanga said. “They and the crows have been fighting all over the city. I saw the most astounding thing yesterday as I shopped. Stormwings lined up in the air wingtip to wingtip and darted at a group of crows to cut them in half.”

  Aly snorted, guessing the result.

  “The crows split and got them on the backs and chests as they passed,” Quedanga said. “One of them even managed to dump a load of dung on their queen's head.”

  All of them shook their heads over the audacity of crows and the frustrations of Stormwings as their group broke up. Dove waited until she and Aly were climbing the stairs to the family quarters before she made Aly stop.

  “If you know what they talked about, you know I was there,” she said quietly, looking up at her face. “Why didn't you tell?”

  Aly shrugged. “It wasn't my secret to tell. You'll let our group know when you feel it's time.” She felt the urge to add something but was not sure it would help. “Your ladyship, I know you're just thirteen and all, but—and don't bite my nose off for it—I trust your judgment more than that of some older people I know.” They both knew she meant Sarai; Aly could see the awareness in Dove's eyes. “Others I might question, but I know you're not a fool. We opened the door to the luarin in there tonight, that was the important thing.”

  When they entered the ladies' sitting room, they found the duchess on the floor with Elsren and Petranne, telling a story, as Sarai read a book. Winnamine used her long, elegant hands as the raka storytellers did, making them form shadows on the wall that looked like figures from the tale. Rihani, Pembery, and Boulaj had sewing in their hands, but they were as entranced as the children, watching each shadow. Even Sarai spent more time watching than she did reading. Dove and Aly sat quietly in their regular spots, Dove folding her hands in her lap, Aly taking up the sewing she kept in a basket by her chair.

  The story ended. Pembery and Boulaj began to stitch as Winnamine got to her feet. Elsren was asleep, worn out by another day with Dunevon. Rihani scooped him up and waited as Petranne kissed her mother, Sarai, and Dove good night. Once the children and their nursemaid were gone, Sarai gave up even the pretense of reading.

  “Winna, when will they let Nomru out?” Sarai asked. “They can't just keep him in Kanodang forever.”

  “I doubt it,” said the duchess. “I imagine that he will be out—one way or another—by the end of the week. In the meantime, we have the eclipse party tomorrow night. Have you decided what you will wear?”

  Sarai ignored this distraction. “If only we knew some men with spine,” she complained. “You should have heard them this afternoon, planning ‘the great rescue of Nomru.'”

  “I hope you discouraged them,” said Winnamine. “Don't they understand they could die that way?”

  Sarai smiled bitterly. “Relax, Winna. All it took was a pout from me and they were happy to give it up. I can't think much of their courage if they care more about escorting me to the Summersend Ball than they do about the life of a great noble like Nomru.” Suddenly she jumped to her feet. “How can you stand it? How can we live among so many cowards?” she demanded, pacing the room, a tigress in cream silk. “To watch what they do to people—all kinds of people, not just the raka!—and say nothing, and simper, and take another stitch, and pretend the world's all lovely?”

  “Because I have patience,” Winnamine said quietly. “And because I like to sew.”

  “Patience?” cried Sarai. “The luarin nobles haven't done anything in centuries, and they're not going to. It makes me sick. In other countries, rulers can't just do as they like. Zaimid told me Emperor Kaddar set it up so that for anyone to be arrested in Carthak, their accusers must give evidence before a magistrate. The magistrate has to write out a warrant for the arrest, based on proof of wrongdoing. If Duke Nomru lived in Carthak, he'd be heard, not tossed into a cell.”

  “Emperor Kaddar got that idea from the Marenites,” Winnamine pointed out.

  Sarai shrugged. “As I say, other monarchs have to respect their people. You don't see Tortallans sneaking around, afraid to speak their minds. In fact, they're a little too zealous about that, especially when they visit us.”

  Aly raised her brows.

  Sarai smiled and flapped a hand. “Not you, Aly. But some of your people have been painfully frank about what they think of the Kyprin way of life.”

  Aly, who knew someone who was painfully frank about more than that, looked at her needlework.

  Winnamine leaned forward and caught Sarai's arm. “You're certain your men friends aren't going to try something? If need be, I'll send notes to their parents—”

  Sarai shook her head. “That lot? They're gelded already. They'll do what the king stallion tells them to do. I wonder what it's like to live in a country where there are more stallions than geldings.”

  “I doubt they'd come running when you flutter your lashes at them,” Dove remarked, her voice very dry.

  Sarai smiled. “Oh, a challenge! That would be new.” She collapsed into a chair and looked at her stepmother. “Winna, Otaviyu Lelin and Rosamma Tomang have invited me to go riding tomorrow morning.”

  The duchess rested her needlework in her lap. “And their brothers?” she asked delicately. Dove smiled.

  Sarai shot her sister a glare. “And their brothers, and the rest of our crowd, and Countess Tomang, and Otavi's mother. Boulaj will be with me, if she can keep up.”

  �
�I see no problems, then,” Winnamine replied slowly. “Genore Tomang has a spotless reputation, and she is known for her skill as a chaperon.” She grinned wickedly at Sarai, whose shoulders drooped.

  Dove asked, “You haven't seen Boulaj ride, have you, Sarai? I mean, like you like to ride?”

  Sarai glared at her. “No.”

  Dove chuckled. “She will be on you like a tick on a howler. Try slipping away with her on your tail!”

  “You're being a brat, O wonderful, uncontroversial, educated sister of mine,” Sarai retorted. She asked her stepmother, “So I may go?”

  “You may go,” replied Winnamine. “And if I hear of one escape attempt or of bad behavior, the only person you will be allowed out of this house with is Aunt Nuritin.”

  Sarai winced. “I'll be so good you'll hardly know I was there. Good night, dear Winna.” She kissed her stepmother's cheek, and the top of her sister's head. “Good night, brat.” She waved to Pembery and Aly, who murmured their own good nights, and left the room.

  Once she was gone, Dove scowled at her stepmother. “Does she even care what becomes of this country? Of us?”

  Winnamine leaned her head back. “Patience, Dove,” she said wearily. “I think she still hates herself for her father's death, just as she hates the houses that produced King Oron and Prince Bronau. I think she feels that people meant to stand up for us when we were exiled, until something distracted them. She thinks because things have always been this way, they will always be this way.”

  “Well, they won't,” said Dove, getting to her feet. “And when they aren't, she had better live up to all those nice, shiny ideas about equal laws for everyone.” She kissed Winnamine on the cheek and left the sitting room.

  Aly followed her without a word.

  10

  ECLIPSE

  Aly woke before dawn once more, although no tentacle tickled her nose.

  “Are you sleeping late or something?” she asked Trick.

  “Not sleeping,” replied the darking. “Listening. Reports-reportsreports. All city mostly same report. Scared. Everyone scared. If people die just to look at her, what happens when she asks for throne? Most of the ones who want to know are raka or poor, or poor and raka. If duke in Kanodang, who next? some say. If Topabaw falls, who next? some ask. Most of those who ask are nobles or soldiers. If king die, if regents die, who rules? Most asking that one are nobles. More Stormwings come from north. Flame came home from Kanodang. All darkings in house back in Aly's room before warriors come to practice,” Trick added mournfully. “They ask, when do they get to do real work? Boring, staying in house all day.”

  “Tonight,” Aly whispered. “Most of you will go to the palace tonight, and those who go will stay there.”

  “But not me,” said Trick.

  Aly grimaced. She knew what it was like to be penned up all day, not allowed to go out and have what she thought of as fun. “Trick, if you can train someone to do for me what you do, you can stay at the palace,” she whispered. “You deserve some fun.”

  “No!” squeaked Trick. “I was fooling!”

  Aly considered that, grinning. “So where did you learn how to tease?” she asked.

  “Like I say, you more fun than anybody,” Trick replied, lightly tightening its beadlike self around Aly's neck in something that felt like a hug.

  Aly leaned her cheek against the darking. “Nawat would like you,” she murmured, missing her crow-man.

  “Then I meet Nawat one day,” replied Trick.

  Aly got up. She practiced with the warriors, then took a complete bath. Once she had dressed Dove and sent her to breakfast, she threw open the shutters and looked outside. It will be perfect for an eclipse if the weather holds, she thought, watching Stormwings bait a lone crow in the cloudless sky. The crow flew lower and lower, until it nearly touched the treetops of Middle Town. An army of nearly one hundred crows exploded from the trees, going after the Stormwings.

  The crows reminded her of a duty. Tilting back her head, she voiced a hoarse caw. Three crows, idly watching the Stormwings streak toward the palace, came to perch on the windowsill. Aly was asking them to gather their dropped feathers as they did those of Stormwings when one tried to grab Trick. The darking wriggled and turned itself into a cobra with its cowl fully extended, striking at the crow. The crow squawked and fell off the ledge.

  “I teach him,” Trick said proudly, and turned itself back into a necklace. The other crows were too busy mocking their disgraced comrade to take offense. When they calmed down, they agreed to leave their feathers where Chenaol could find them. Then they spotted a five-man squad of the King's Watch marching in patrol on Joshain Street. They flew off saying, if Aly understood them correctly, that they would give the soldiers “wet face surprises.”

  Dove went out with Aly and her guard, visiting a maker of fine chessboards, a seller of Yamani goods, and a beggar on the steps of the small temple dedicated to Gunapi the Sunrose, the Kyprin goddess of war and flowing lava. Waiting for Dove and the beggar to finish an involved discussion about the rice crop, Aly kept her eyes on her surroundings. People were starting to add the open shackle to the embroideries on their clothes. She saw it on shop steps and the sides of wagons. If the people knew what it meant, the rebellion had more support in Rajmuat than she had thought.

  When they returned to the house, Aly felt tension in the air, humming like a plucked bowstring. There was nothing she could do to ease it. After all, she wasn't supposed to know the details of the Kanodang escape, though thanks to the darking Lace she had everything but Nomru's boot size. By now she knew the raka conspiracy's true reach and numbers in Rajmuat, particularly in the city's jails, including Kanodang. She was impressed. They've been holding out on me, Aly thought. How sneaky of them!

  She envied the spies of her pack. They were keyed up but able to joke as they passed on their day's gatherings of information. They, at least, would be having fun as Trick termed it.

  Stop that, Aly told herself. You'll have a quiet bit of fun yourself tonight. It won't be as enjoyable as watching bad things burn, but life is imperfect that way.

  By midafternoon the Balitang ladies were ready to leave. The evening's festivities included a banquet before the eclipse party, with the regents and a chosen few dozen. Invitation to the feast as well as to the party was a gesture of condescension from the regents to the Balitangs, and they were all keenly aware of it.

  “I think she's trying to be kind to us,” Sarai muttered to Dove, reading over the letter of invitation one last time. “So people will say how charitable she is.”

  “What do you care?” asked Dove, snatching the letter from her. “All your puppy dogs will be there, panting after you—Ferdy, Druce, Zaimid . . .”

  “Zaimid is hardly panting after me,” Sarai told her younger sister. “And Ferdy is too conscious of his wealth to pant. Drool a bit, yes, but never pant.”

  For this trip to the palace, the dress boxes in the wagon held dinner gowns and party ones. Aly, Pembery, and Boulaj had gone over every stitch with exacting care, making sure their ladies would be perfectly dressed that night. In packing Dove's box, Aly also managed to slip in a garment of her own, a fresh suit from Ochobu that would cause anyone who saw Aly in it to forget they had done so. Aly hardly believed she would be so sloppy as to be seen, but there was no point in taking risks. Under the forgetting suit was a pouch full of very excited darkings. They squeaked with pleasure as Aly tucked them away, and assured her they would have no problem breathing in the box because they didn't breathe.

  Once the boxes were stowed, the ladies' maids took their positions. Pembery and Lady Nuritin's maid, Dorilize, rode in the wagon. Boulaj walked beside Sarai, Aly beside Dove. Dove, cross at having to socialize at dinner as well as the eclipse party, read as she rode. If she noticed the people in the street or in upper-story windows who watched as their company passed, she gave no sign of it. At a nod from the duchess, the men-at-arms drew closer to their party. Aly checked the crowd ofte
n, noting her spies and their recruits mingling, spreading doubts about Topabaw and his standing with the regents.

  The ladies changed for dinner in the Robing Pavilion. The duchess wore a dark maroon undergown and a sheer black silk overgown, her jewelry equally modest. Sarai gleamed in pale amber silk under creamy gauze, her jewelry simple as well. Dove had chosen dark amber under black gauze. All three wore sheer silk veils secured to their neatly done hair with jeweled pins. As they walked to the Rittevon Enclosure, Aly felt her heart swell with pride. They made the other nobles look overdressed.

  Inside the wall they found the towering stone L that was called the Gray Palace. As they walked its halls, they saw countless goods the invaders had looted from their raka subjects on display. They included copper statues turned green with time, gaudy silk rugs and tapestries, figures carved of gemstone, and jewelry made of copper and gold, polished to a brilliant shine. It was all set up to present a message: to the rulers of the Isles, the raka would always be the conquered, not equals.

  Royal servants separated the guests, escorting the men to one salon and the ladies to the next. Here maids gave their mistresses' appearances a last going-over. As Aly tugged a fold here and straightened a sleeve there, she placed a darking on top of one of Dove's shoes. The darking was to remain in the dining hall when Dove left there.

  With their ladies gone, the maids settled to wait, in case their mistresses tore out a hem or stained their clothes during the meal. Later the servants could relax at the Robing Pavilion. For the time being they ate their suppers as they chattered with acquaintances. Aly nodded to Boulaj and opened Dove's dress box. Casually she drew out her forget-me suit and the pouch of darkings, tucking both into the large cloth bag that held a maid's necessities. When Aly had everything she needed, she went in search of the privy.

  The nobles' servants not only had a separate privy at the Gray Palace, but one with stalls, for privacy. Aly entered one and bolted the door. She stripped off her clothes until she wore only her Trick necklace, a breast band, and a loincloth. She pulled the suit out of its bag and was nearly blinded as the spells on it, made by Ochobu, left spots on her magical Sight. She slid the garment on and secured it as her vision cleared. Then she donned the gloves and shoes, tucked the darkings' pouch into an opening in the suit, and pulled up and tightened the hood until only her eyes were visible.