“He made formal application to Papa for a marriage alliance, and Papa was trying to talk me into agreeing to a betrothal, and if not that, to accept Garian’s invitation to visit him in Drath.”
“Grrrr.”
“Well, around that time Jaim showed up. Not honestly—and now I know why.”
“Ah.” Jewel clasped her hands. “I knew he was gone, but not where. Why didn’t he tell me? Well, go on.”
“All I know is he sneaked around spying us out, and he and Maxl did meet, because Maxl told me about it. Well, one night, I was eating supper out on my own terrace before getting ready for a ball, for court was yet in residence. And your obnoxious brother steps over my balcony as if it weren’t three stories up.”
Jewel choked on laughter. “I can sooo see it.”
“He didn’t stroll, he sauntered. Oh, he was enjoying himself, the rotter. At the time I thought he might be some fatuous swain I hadn’t noticed in court, another one after my wealth.”
“How do you know he was just after your wealth?” Jewel asked, defending her brother. “He could have, well—”
“Oh, Jewel. We’d never met, so how could he possibly be in love with me? I’m not beautiful, or clever, or famed for any accomplishments except maybe dancing, because no one ever hears me play my music, because princesses aren’t supposed to entertain, only be entertained—and dancing anyone can do. I’ve been courted since I turned sixteen, and they all talk about themselves, or rather their holdings and what they can do if. All they want from me is my inheritance.”
She said under her breath, “At least you get courted.”
“No. My wealth gets courted.”
“I wish I had the problem of too much money.” She rolled her eyes, and then shook her head. “Never mind! Too many days wearing castoffs that we pick off clotheslines on raids. Go on.”
“Well, he took my arm and told me we were going for a ride—and if I screamed he’d be forced to use his dagger. He had a fold of his cloak over one arm to hide this weapon. So we went downstairs, and he knew all the byways of our castle—and we didn’t see a soul who could help me. The two guards were snoring. How he’d gotten them to drink his dreamweed-laced ale, I don’t know.”
Jewel snickered.
“It’s not funny! We got to the bottom floor and saw people, but he squeezed my arm, and so I said nothing, for I didn’t want to get anyone killed, and they said nothing, only bowed, and next thing I knew I was bundled into one of the city coaches. They are anonymous. Some of them are also old. And rickety. And he’d managed to pick one of the very oldest, into which someone had spilled pickling juice, and it stank.”
Jewel valiantly tried to suppress a snort of laughter.
“So then I realized—too late—that his blasted threats didn’t make any sense, and so I said—No. I snarled, ‘What kind of a stupid threat is that, to kill me? What use would I be to you dead?’ And he said, throwing back the cloak, ‘Well, it worked, didn’t it? Even though I don’t actually happen to have a knife.’ And sure enough he was empty handed.”
By now Jewel was rocking with silent mirth.
“He said he broke it, but I suspect he lost it in the fishpond below my balcony when he climbed up. Because the gardeners found a very fine knife in it, and were exceedingly puzzled. But that was later.”
Jewel wiped her streaming eyes. “So that’s what happened to his old knife from our grandfather. A fishpond! Of course he wouldn’t admit it.”
I tried to maintain my dignity as the injured princess, but her helpless mirth was making my lips twitch. “I couldn’t think of anything to say, and I knew I wasn’t strong enough to fight him, so I pretended to go to sleep. Even tried to snore.”
A whoop escaped Jewel.
“Well, your brother was laughing too, the stinker. But then we both yelped when we were thrown violently to one side. The coach had gotten outside the city by then, and as you’d expect on the side roads, hit a pothole and a wheel came off. As we picked our way out, Jaim was cursing and muttering about wanting to return it because he’d had to leave some ruby ring as insurance. He hadn’t stolen the coach, then, he’d gotten it legally, so as not to raise the hue-and-cry. I told him—with great enjoyment—that only an idiot would take a city vehicle out on those cow paths.”
Jewel mopped her eyes with her skirt.
“So Jaim told me to hold the horses—unless I was afraid of them—while he and that driver wrestled with the wheel, which hadn’t broken, it had only come unbolted. We exchanged insults while he labored with the wheel, and while he was busy I was busy as well. I got one of the horses unhitched. Or almost unhitched. I was undoing the traces on the side away from him as I vented my opinions. I’d just gotten out a good one about how he was far worse than Garian when, to my dismay, he dropped what he was doing and came toward me.”
Jewel snorted. “To snarl back at you?”
“He actually had the gall to warn me. He said, ‘Take my advice and have nothing to do with him.’”
“Well, he was right, wasn’t he?”
“Of course he was, but still, the sheer bare-faced audacity of an abductor warning me about someone else almost caused me to ruin my escape. But I said ever so sweetly that I thanked him, and he and the driver—who was one of your gang, I guess—were in the middle of lifting the coach to slide the wheel back onto the axle when I got the other horse unhitched. Then I hopped up and rode off, leading the second horse.”
Jewel snickered. “No wonder he never told me about that. Graveled!”
“So I rode straight home and found that Maxl had dispatched the guard to try to track us on all the east roads. Even he laughed when I told him about the invisible knife and the wheel. Anyway I was so angry I went straight to Papa and said I would accept Garian’s invitation and visit Drath.”
Jewel’s laughter died. “Oh no.”
“Oh yes, I said I’d go, and I did. I walked into that mess all by myself. And though I am thoroughly ashamed of myself, I am also angry, because I wouldn’t have if it hadn’t been for your brother and his idiot plans.”
Jewel wrinkled her nose. “Yes, I can see why you’re angry with him. And so Garian had my other brother there, and what, they tried to make you agree to marry one of them?”
“Jason wasn’t there at first. It was just the two of us—and of course an army of servants and guards. I should have been suspicious when we didn’t go to Ennath, which is apparently a very nice palace on a lake. That’s where Garian entertains and does his public governing. We went straight to Surtan-Abrig, which is a fortress on a mountain. His personal lair.”
Jewel grinned. “Which is why Jaim picked the hideout he did, for proximity. Go on.”
“Not much more. Garian tried to flatter me into marrying him so we could expand Drath, but it seemed to me his hints all pointed to getting rid of Maxl. I refused as nicely as I could. So then he changed tactics. He no longer courted me for himself. Instead he now wanted me to meet Jason in order to negotiate a marriage, and I refused that too. He locked me in the room alone for a week, and when that didn’t make me any more amenable he tried sarcasm, and by the time Jason arrived, he had begun the bullying.”
“I suppose Jason enjoyed slapping you too?”
“He never touched me. He was scarcely ever around. I suspect he found the whole matter tiresome, because he spent most of his time out riding.”
“Looking for Jaim’s hideout here, I dare swear.”
“Ah! That makes sense. Well, I don’t really understand what he was thinking—”
“Except that he desperately needs money as well.”
I heaved a mighty sigh of disgust. “Don’t they all? No, Garian doesn’t! Drath is rich—and it all belongs to him. He likes meddling in royal affairs is my guess. Anyway, I bribed one of Garian’s ‘loyal’ retainers who, I suspect, hadn’t the stomach for what was going on, for this was right after the worst argument of all. That was the night Garian slapped me so hard I fell down. Got the blac
k eye. It was warm—windows open—I think the servants had to have heard. Anyway I gave the guard all my gems, climbed down, got the horse, rode—but I did go too fast. The horse foundered, threw me, and that was that.”
Jewel grimaced.
“When I think how close I came to being married, I feel like I escaped certain death.”
“You did,” she said with complete conviction. “Because as soon as the vows were made, Jason would sweep you back to gloomy, horrid Lathandra, where he could extort extra money from your family and then kill you off.”
“Cheering thought. So now you see why I have to go home.”
“I agree.”
“That means I have to escape.”
“I agree.”
“You do?” I stared. I’d thought I’d have to sneak out alone and flounder my way down the mountain—somehow—by myself.
“I’ll even help you escape. In fact I’ll show you the way. And in turn, you can show me what life in a palace is like. Not a castle. No armies around. No bandits. Just…” She sighed. “Romance.”
I laughed. “It’s a bargain.”
Chapter Six
It would have been fun to loftily ignore Jaim, if only he’d cooperated and noticed. But he didn’t.
We all met for an early breakfast. Jewel tried her best to get us to talk to one another, with no success. He was preoccupied. Bolstered by the prospect of returning home, I was no longer really angry with Jaim. In truth, it was difficult to retain my hold on my righteous wrath because he gotten me away from Garian and Jason—even if for his own reasons—and because he made me laugh.
But I was afraid of betraying my plans, so I sat woodenly. And (I have to admit) Jaim didn’t notice because he probably couldn’t tell the difference between Flian the haughty captive ignoring him and Flian the dull princess who only attracts fortune hunters.
Jewel looked from one of us to the other, rolled her eyes skyward and finally gave up.
Jaim’s group was going to run a raid the next day, and excitement gripped them all. As soon as the meal was over, they went off to one of the cave-chambers to rehearse the details.
By midmorning, Jewel’s mood had changed. She was wistful when Jaim came by her room on his way to another practice run. He kissed her goodbye, gave me a sardonic bow, then was gone.
I said, “If you’re regretting your decision—”
“No, I’m feeling guilty. And I know I’ll miss him. Never mind. Let me write him a letter, and we’ll go down and saddle Bard, and leave.”
“A letter? What for?”
“Well, I’m not mad at him.”
I thought about Maxl and nodded. I’d missed my brother and his good sense from the moment I’d reached Garian’s castle.
She dug out a pen and ink, scrawled something on a scrap of paper, then straightened up. “It’s done. Would you like to add an insulting postscript or two? No? Then let us get dressed and go.”
“Dressed?” I looked down at my gown, which was clean enough.
Jewel grinned. “Haven’t done much in the raiding way, have you? Travel about the countryside in a wedding gown and people will be talking for days. And if Garian has his people out looking for a stray blond princess in a wedding gown, it won’t take too many guesses that you might be it—and a great reward forthcoming, too.”
“So?”
“So you’re going to be my maid. No one ever looks at servants.”
She lifted the lid on her trunk and pulled out some very worn-looking clothes. She laid out a much-washed gray skirt, a heavy linen bodice and a very old cotton blouse.
“The bodice is still good because I got too big for it before it got the least worn,” she said. “You are slim, though you’re much taller. It should fit you.”
“Just say no figure.” I worked my way out of the lace wedding gown.
“Understated figure.” She chuckled. “Elegant, in a severe sort of way. Oh, I hate to leave that lovely gown!”
“I never want to see it again. As for pretty gowns, I’ll make certain you get enough of them at home.”
I pulled on the unfamiliar clothes and laced up the bodice. We braided up my hair, bound it round my head, and tied a kerchief over it in the way of the mountain women.
When I was done, I stood back for inspection. Jewel narrowed her eyes, calling Jason unexpectedly and most unpleasantly to mind. “Nothing fits right, which makes it more convincing. You look like a gawky sixteen-year-old—as long as you’re still. When you move, you’re a princess again. But we’re going to load you down with bags. And I know what I ought to wear.”
She dove back into her trunk and soon had on an old-fashioned cotton-wool overdress with flowers embroidered at the square neck and the dropped waist. The overdress was a plum color, with laces of silver, and the underdress was fine but undyed linen. She looked like a merchant’s daughter, for they have their own formal fashions, involving guild colors and symbols.
“We’ll make up our stories as we ride down the mountain,” she said as she thrust clothes and a hairbrush and some ribbons into a bag. “I think we’d best leave now. If Jaim is in one of his moods, he might come after us, but he won’t ride too far inside your border.”
“Good.”
Jewel handed me the bag. “Wait here. I have to figure out how much we’ll need from the gang’s money stash, and there’s the horse to get ready.”
She left me near the entrance. After a time she reappeared, leading the horse and carrying a handful of coins.
She quirked a rueful brow at me. “Here’s my inheritance.”
We mounted up and began our escape.
I won’t describe our ride down the mountain trails, pretty as it was. The scenery is there, unchanged, for anyone to see who wishes. Our trail paralleled a stream, sometimes crossing. At first we could only hear it, overhung as it was by the lovely willow and blue spruce and very old alders that grew profusely in the mountains. Also heard were birds and the occasional large animal—deer, elk.
We talked about a variety of things: romance, dancing, clothes, families. Our mothers. I had no memory of mine, but I knew my brother had vague memories of her languishing voice, her lack of interest in him. She had been seventeen—wraithlike, pale of eyes and hair, like a ballad princess—when my father, late in life, made a journey to Narieth and fell suddenly and violently in love. No, not in love, for they had absolutely nothing in common, but even my father, wise as he was, mistook that violent attraction for love. As for my mother, from what my great-aunt told me later there was no love or even attraction. She married to become a queen. However few in Carnison’s court liked her.
When, not long after I was born, she’d tried intriguing one of the coastal dukes and was refused, she’d threatened to drown herself by walking into a river in full ball dress. My great-aunt had maintained she’d only meant it as a dramatic gesture, and had been taken by surprise. She had no idea how heavy a water-sodden ball dress could be, and since she’d never learned how to fasten or unfasten her own gowns, down she went before anyone could get to her.
Jewel listened with sympathy. “At least yours wasn’t drunk all the time. My mother was horrid! But.” She turned around on the horse, looking at me with her wide eyes. “She was not nearly as nasty as our father, who was legendary for his temper. Which I inherited.” She spread her hands. “You need a temper, to survive my family. But I have never, ever, ever beaten anyone or had them beaten. I promise!”
I laughed. “I believe you.”
“Oh, I don’t want to remember Father. I think Jason is exactly like him. Worse, if you ask me, because he never raises his voice. It’s inhuman. Father was a bellower—like me. Ugh. Let’s talk about something else. Like food.”
And so we did, keeping ourselves entertained until we decided to stop.
The air was summery, pure, sweet, and only cold after sunset. We huddled into cloaks, making a campfire in a secluded grotto. Jewel had brought some of the outlaws’ journey-bread, their staple on l
ong runs, and some fruit. Bard was not the least sweaty, having ambled at a slow pace, so he just needed unsaddling and a brush-down, and he found plenty of grass to eat. We slept and continued on in the morning.
The second day’s ride brought us into the lower reaches of Drath, above the border to Lygiera—and so we rode past ancient tiers of grapevines, tended by countless generations, to produce the gold and yellow wines that were justly famed.
Later that day brought us to flatter land and our stream began to meander, sometimes rushing over rocky falls. The trail finally met with a road and took us within sight of habitation—farmland, mostly. We were now in Lygiera.
Since two of us rode one horse, we did not proceed at any dashing pace. Slow is steady, and by the time the sun was westering beyond the far mountains, we had reached a market town. Jewel guided us to the inn as we talked about our roles. It seemed an adventure to play the part of the maid.
The inn lay at a crossroads on the outskirts of town. Jewel sashayed inside to order her room and dinner. It fell to me to take the horse to the stable and carry the bags upstairs. There I discovered I was expected to make the bed ready.
Jewel had warned me that she’d give orders and not listen to see if I understood them, but what I hadn’t expected was that the innkeeper, and her daughter who ran the stable, would do so as well. No one was cruel—not like Garian’s exquisite sarcasm. They looked at me as an adjunct to the work. They issued an order, then turned away assuming it would be done.
Maxl had seen to it when I was a child that I knew how to care for any horse I rode, so it was no difficulty to curry down Bard and see him fed. The innkeeper’s daughter glanced once or twice, gauged the amount of feed, and then left me alone. Once I got inside, the innkeeper, who was harassed with many customers, clearly expected me to fetch and carry from the kitchens and I had no idea where to find anything.
After the fourth trip upstairs—the last time with a heavy tray—I trod back downstairs. Finally it was my turn to eat.
I was given a plate of cooked beets, boiled potatoes and a small amount of spiced fish-and-rice, which was apparently the preferred dish of the paying customers, so there wasn’t much left for us. A cup of ale or water was my only choice for drink.
The Trouble With Kings Page 5
