by Mind Guest
beginning to have a crush on the big mercenary, and I felt like
groaning. I hadn't had a crush on a man since I'd seen Starman
Courageous without his chest pads and girdle; and wasn't about to be
caught up in the nonsense. As far as I was concerned Fallan was nothing more than a pain in the rump, and on that point I would make the
decision stick. I turned back to stare out the window again, ignoring
an urge to lean out and look ahead that wasn't mine, and worked at
sticking to my resolve.
The motion of the coach put me to sleep for a while, but I was awake
again when we reached the inn. We'd only been on the road for a few
hours, and at first I didn't understand why we were stopping. It took a
minute before I realized that Tildorani ate four meals a day rather
than three, and it was time for the second meal. I wasn't particularly
hungry, but I was too bored not to be looking forward to the stop.
The inn was a large, three-story yellow and white house with a high
wall and gate, a stable not far from the house, and a wide entrance
court. Stable boys hurried over to help with the mercenaries' mounts,
and Fallan himself came to hand me out of the coach. His touch on my
arm was deferential rather than demanding, and combined with the same
look he had given me earlier it was enough to turn Bellna shy with
fluster. I, however, hadn't forgotten how pushy he'd been at the lodge;
when I climbed out of the coach I made sure to come down right on his
foot. The instep is a high pain target, which took care of the halfamused,
half-interested look he'd been wearing.
"Oh, how clumsy of me!" I exclaimed immediately, as he closed his eyes
and flinched. "I do hope you will forgive me, Captain."
"Certainly, Princess," he got out through his teeth, then looked at me
with a lot less friendliness. "Had the misstep not been an accident, it
would certainly have been punished. As it was an accident, it will
certainly be forgiven."
"How fortunate, then, that it was an accident," I said with a pleasant
smile, ignoring the fact that he had told me he suspected it wasn't.
"Shall we enter the inn now?"
"As soon as I am able to walk again," he muttered, turning back to the
coach to gesture the four girls out. They came out one at a time,
making sure to touch the ground nowhere near Fallan's feet, and the way
they loosened their shawls reminded me how uncomfortable I was. It
wasn't Fallan's fault that I'd been closed into layer after layer of
straitjacket, but having gotten some of my own back from him even
raised my spirits about that.
"This way, Princess," Fallan directed, and led off all alone toward the
inn, I followed after him, the girls followed after me, and the rest of
Fallan's men completed the parade. The only one to hurry was Fallan's
lieutenant, Ralnor, who hustled a little to catch up to Fallan before
the mercenary captain reached the inn. The two of them paused in the
doorway, blocking the parade, and I realized they were checking out the
interior before letting me walk in. It seemed like a sensible idea,
even though Clero's men shouldn't have had the time to get there yet.
But then, Fallan and his men didn't know about the timetable we'd
established, and I wasn't about to tell them.
The appearance of the inn turned out to be acceptable. Fallan and
Ralnor moved farther inside and then stepped apart, making an aisle for
me to walk through. I used the aisle casually, showing nothing of the
upset the Bellna presence felt over what I'd done to Fallan. It was
almost like looking out at the world through two sets of eyes, one mine
and the other-well, mine also but strangely different. One way Fallan
looked big and roughly attractive and annoyingly in the way, the other
he was an overpoweringly attractive man of violence and sex appeal. It
wasn't too difficult keeping the two views separated, but it still felt
strange.
The inside of the inn was cozy, in a rustic, backward way. The ground floor seemed to be all one room, except fur a part at the back
separated by a wall and door, which probably hid the cooking
facilities. Most of the back wall was taken up by a fireplace, filled
at the moment with nothing but fresh, unburned logs. The numerous
windows streaming sunlight were uncurtained, and the animal4at wall
lamps were unlit. More than a dozen travelers sat about at trestle
tables of various sizes, and every one of them turned to stare when we
made our entrance. A short, thin man came out of the door in the far
wall, started when he saw us, then hurried over.
"Forgive me for not having known of your presence sooner, Captain," he
said to Fallan with a few absentminded bows, his eyes glued to me with
a glitter. "May I be of service to you?"
"The Princess honors your house in order to dine," Fallan answered, his
voice cold and dangerous. 'It were best that you not disappoint her
expectations."
"The Princess!" the small man gasped, utterly delighted. "Highness, my
house is yours! Pray enter and be seated!"
This time the bowing was for me, along with the stares of everyone in
the room. Considering the fact that Fallan was supposed to be
protecting me, he was being awfully generous with information as to who
I was. Most nobles traveled around on Tildor without telling people who
they were; that was why the innkeeper had addressed himself to Fallan;
he hadn't expected to be told who I was. As a decoy for the real
princess it didn't matter much to me, but Fallan wasn't supposed to
know I was a decoy. I frowned as I followed the innkeeper across the
floor and tried to catch Fallan's eye, but the big mercenary seemed to
be avoiding looking in my direction.
The innkeeper led us all the way to the left, to a corner area standing
apart from the rest of the room. The tables there were crafted rather
than thrown together, short lengths of white cloth covered them, and
four or five big, well-carved chairs stood together in a corner. My
host hurried over to one of the chairs, dragged it to the head of the
largest table, tossed aside the plain chair standing there, then bowed
to me again.
"Your seat, Highness," he burbled, thrilled with the entire situation.
"Allow me to assist you.
"I will assist her," Fallan said, totally untouched by the way the
small man's face fell. "You may return to your hearth and have our meal
prepared. Those three wenches are to be fed in your kitchens; the
fourth will remain here to serve the Princess. My lieutenant and some
of my men will accompany you.
Ralnor moved two steps off to wait for the innkeeper, who looked
nervous rather than insulted. Fallan's lieutenant would be there to
make sure there was nothing added to our meal that shouldn't be added,
and if something aroused his suspicions he might not take the time to
ask questions. The innkeeper nodded his head in resignation, bowed to
me again, then led Ralnor and his four mercenaries and the three darkhaired
girls toward the door in the far wall. The only one of the girls
left was the redhead, and she looked nervous for some odd reason. I
went to the ornate chair and took my place, then watched Fallan seat
himself to my right, his back to the wall our table stood near. His men
arranged themselves very obtrusively around us, and Fallan turned to
glance at the still standing redhead.
"Place yourself behind the Princess and to her left, where you may
serve her without intrusion," Fallan directed, stretching out
comfortably in his chair. "Yon inn wenches will serve no more than my
men and I." The girl turned her head to see the three inn girls who were hurrying
toward us, two of them carrying wooden trays filled with metal goblets
for the men, one of them with a silver tray and a single, intricately
wrought gold-colored goblet. The goblet probably was gold, but even,
though the redhead quickly rounded the back of my chair to jake it from
the inn girl, the thing never reached me.
"The Princess does not take wine at such an early hour of the day,"
Fallan announced, stopping both girls in their tracks. "Return that
goblet, and fetch a pot of andilla."
The inn girl, looking frightened, sketched a fast curtsy and headed
back the way she came, leaving the redhead to step back behind my
chair. Bellna didn't understand what was going on any more than I did,
which made it my option to comment.
"How thoughtful of you to look after my wants so carefully, Captain," I
commented, finally bringing those eyes directly to me. "And how clever
of you to be aware of them without consulting me."
"My commission demands both thoughtfulness and cleverness, Princess,"
Fallan answered with a faint grin, accepting a copper-colored goblet
from one of the inn girls. "You will find that I shall not shirk my
duty."
"Ah, you are aware, then, of your duty." I nodded in approval, then
looked at him with exaggerated sweetness. "Would you, in that event, be
so kind as to explain it to me? It has seemed, till now, that the
demands of duty have escaped you entirely."
A small gasp came from behind my chair, echoed in some part by the
Bellna presence. Both Bellna and the redhead thought I was pushing it
with Fallan, something neither one of them would have done. I was
pushing it, but I had to find out what he was up to.
"Appearances are often deceiving, Princess," Fallan answered with an
impassive drawl. "One often finds it necessary to see the last of a
series of actions before the first of those actions is clarified. Now
comes your andilla."
Which ended the discussion. The inn girl with the silver tray was back,
this time bringing a beautifully designed ceramic pitcher and mug, the
pitcher presumably filled with the warm, chocolatey drink called
andilla. The redhead stepped out from behind my chair, took the mug and
pitcher from the tray, poured me a mugful of andilla, then disappeared
behind my chair again. I still didn't know what Fallan was up to, still
didn't understand why the redhead had to serve me instead of one of the
inn girls, and didn't want any part of the andilla. I could see faint
wisps of steam rising from the mug, and didn't much care for chocolate
drinks even when they were cold. I tugged at the high collar of my
dress and moved in annoyance in the big chair, but that did me as much
good as questioning Fallan had. It was fairly clear that the meal stop
would not be a particularly pleasant one.
My guess didn't prove to be entirely wrong. The men had their wine
poured for them, and then the food began coming. Omelets and light
soups and thin cuts of meat, lightly fried fowl and vegetables and
fresh-baked bread, and all of it was brought to me first. During an
assignment I usually believe in eating whenever I can, knowing the next
chance I get might be a long time in coming, but that was pushing it
even for me. I tasted all of the dishes out of curiosity, finding them
underseasoned but otherwise acceptable, then spent some time watching
everyone else eat. Fallan's men did their eating standing up, and
Fallan, although seated, spent as much time as they did looking around.
Their goblets were refilled almost as soon as they emptied them, but
none of them was drinking at all hard. Most mercenaries drank wine the way other people drink water, or at least that was what Bellna
believed; true or not true, I could see they were watching their
intake. It gave me the impression they were expecting trouble, and that
set me to wondering what they knew that I didn't. Clero's men could
show up at any time, but Fallan and company shouldn't have known that.
Our meal was just about over when the trouble happened. It was nothing
more than a simple scuffle, but it drew the attention of Fallan
himself. Two men seated on the other side of the room, merchants or
landed gentry by their clothing, tried to come over to my table for
some reason or other. Fallan's men barred their way, telling them to go
back to their own table, but the two strangers disagreed. Hard words
followed, swords came half out of scabbards, and Fallan, with a snapped
order to the redhead to stay behind my chair, got up and joined the
party. Once he got there the two men forgot about swords and tried
bluster, but it was clear to everyone in the room that the argument was
over. Fallan wasn't the leader of his men because someone had appointed
him to the job, and both of the strangers wilted visibly under his
stare. I leaned back in my chair again, disappointed to a large degree
that the argument wasn't the prelude to the attack I was waiting for.
That attack would put my neck on the line, but it would also give me
the chance to get off that planet. Dameron's so important job was
beginning to bore me, and boredom was more dangerous than attack. It
made the most alert careless, the fastest sluggish, the brightest
uncaring; boredom had killed more agents than weapons and ambush, and I
didn't want my name added to the list. It didn't help that Bellna was
even more bored than I was; that sort of reaction doesn't need
reinforcement.
I suppose I could say that what I did next was an attempt to end the
boredom, and to a great extent it would be true. The real truth is that
when I get bored, I also get an irresistible urge to liven things up.
I've had trouble because of that particular urge, but nothing that I
didn't consider well worth the fun involved. I didn't often indulge the
urge during an assignment, but when I saw Fallan watching his men as
they escorted the two intruders back to their table on the other side
of the inn, the idea came to me all at once. His goblet stood to my
right, still half filled with wine, and it didn't take very long to
empty it down my throat. For a very young wine it wasn't bad, but
drinking it was only half of what I had in mind. The other half was
refilling the goblet to its previous level with the andilla I hadn't
touched, the andilla I'd been given because of Fallan. It seemed only
fair to return the favor and then see what developed. The Bellna
presence giggled nervously as I sat back again
, but was too delighted
with what she'd-I'd done to really regret it. The boredom was taken
care of, and that was what counted.
No more than another couple of minutes passed before Fallan came back
to my side of the table. He stopped behind his chair but didn't sit,
instead looking around before glancing at me.
"It is more than time that we continued on, Princess," he said,
absently reaching for the goblet he'd left unemptied. "There has
already been one incident, and the next may be less easily seen to. It
seems I was ill-advised to announce your identity so openly."
No, don't tell me! I responded, but only to myself as I stared up at
him in silence. He was noticing the obvious pretty damned late, but
somehow he seemed more satisfied than contrite. He was still up to
something, but questioning him would have been a waste of breath. I sat
instead and watched him raise his goblet to his lips as he continued to
look around, saw him take a good, healthy swallow-then watched straight-faced as he spit out the unexpected drink. Andilla isn't bad
when it's warm; cold, it tastes very much like unwashed armpits. Half a
dozen men at a nearby table laughed uproariously, obviously having seen
what I'd done and eagerly awaiting the trap to close. Fallan wiped his
mouth with the back of his hand as his eyes moved to me, and Bellna was
suddenly all out of giggles.
"I would know the meaning of this gift, Princess," he ground out, the
expression on his face and the blaze in his eyes enough to replace the
recent laughter at the nearby table with immediate silence. "has it
some significance which eludes me?"
"I merely sought to emulate your actions, Captain," I answered. in the
most innocent tone I could manage, at the same time rising from my
chair. "Your anticipation of my wishes was enviable, so much so that I
attempted the same for you. Have I failed so dismally, then?"
He stared at me briefly without answering, returned the goblet to the
table with a thud, then came closer to take my arm.
"Had you truly sought to anticipate my wishes, you would have bared
your bottom, Princes," he growled very low, his hand closing a bit more
on my arm. "Another doing such as this, and I will make the effort for
you. For that you have my word."
"Why, Captain, whatever do you mean?" I asked, oddly feeling the fear
