The Trouble With Kings

by Sherwood Smith

  Jewel groaned. “Doing your errands. I hate that!” She eyed him. “Unless you’re lying. I can’t see you languishing after anyone, except maybe a fast horse. Or a fine sword.”

  Jason’s eyes narrowed in that suppressed humor, but all he said was, “Eat your food before it gets cold.”

  The food was trout in wine sauce, potatoes cooked in garlic-and-onions, and fresh peas dashed with summer herbs. It was delicious, but I was glad for the space to think. I had to consider the notion of Jason being in love, which I found oddly unsettling. I’d assumed that he wasn’t capable of it—he was removed from all human feeling besides the martial ones.

  Maybe I wanted to think of him that way? But that thought perplexed me even more. I decided to ponder the question later, when he was not sitting right there before me.

  “Say we do go.” Jewel waved her fork. “What are you going to do? Lounge about and recuperate?” She smirked.

  “Find Jaim.”

  Jewel’s smirk vanished and she glared at Jason. “You’ll never find him. Never.”

  “Yes I will. I know approximately where he is. I monitored Garian’s unsuccessful searches during my stay in Drath, while my own people ran around busily creating false trails. If I’m right about the general location, Jaim’ll then find me.”

  Jewel threw down her fork. “And what, send your bullying border riders in to murder him like a rat?”

  “I’m going alone.”

  “Well, I want to go too, to make certain you don’t hurt him. And I don’t want to go begging to some stupid princess.”

  Jason’s eyes narrowed again, but not with humor. Their expressions were startlingly alike, and I knew he was about to say something cutting.

  I said, “Please come with me, Jewel. Dantherei is supposed to be lovely, and I would much rather travel with your company than alone. And afterward, remember, you can come home with me. And stay as long as you like.”

  Jewel studied me. “You don’t want me to argue with Nastyface here.” She poked her thumb toward Jason.

  “Not over dinner. Argue as much as you like after,” I invited.

  She laughed. “Done.”

  I turned to Jason. “Sooner gone, sooner I’m home.”

  Jason slid his left hand into the neck of his shirt and pulled out the silver chain, from which swung an object. He lifted it over his head. “There’s her ring.” He tossed it onto the table. “Either she returns with it, or keeps it.”

  I looked down at the gold ring, a fine lady’s ring, set with two deep blue sapphires twined in gold leaves. The last time I had seen it, there had been so much of Jason’s blood on it I could not make out what it was. I was reluctant to touch it, but Jewel felt no such compunction. She grabbed it up, undid the chain’s catch, then slid the ring onto her finger, admiring it against the last of the fading light.

  “You leave after breakfast,” Jason said.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I did not know what to expect—anything from another military company to Jewel and me departing on a pair of ponies with a pack of travel food between us.

  What we found waiting after breakfast—which we ate alone—was a cavalcade fit for two princesses, all of it overseen by the silent Markham.

  Jewel took one look at that tall, powerfully built, bony-faced man and said, in a whisper that was not very soft, “Figures my rotten brother would send along someone to spy on us.”

  I snorted a laugh. “It would hardly require a spy to overhear our conversation.”

  Jewel only grinned unrepentantly.

  My own assessment of our escort was that they were warriors masquerading as servants; the woman, Lita, who was to be our maid, moved with a strong, trained efficiency that reminded me very much of my tent-mates in Brissot’s company.

  Jewel sighed, looking around the countryside. The road north wound up gentle, forested hills to the mountains that formed the border. The day had dawned without rain, and though there were clouds overhead, they were not—at present—a threat.

  “If only I didn’t hate Jason so much.” Jewel lowered her voice. “The only way I can be certain he won’t do something nasty to Jaim is to go along and watch him. Then there’s the matter of being stuck doing his errands for him, fetching some obnoxious beauty—”

  “She is obnoxious?” I asked, disappointed. “I was hoping we’d like her. Make for a much more pleasant mission.”

  “No, it’ll be much better if she’s awful.” Jewel snickered. “Jason deserves a stinker, and anyway, would you wish a nice person a lifetime stuck with him?”

  “Well, if she’s in love with him,” I pointed out, “she would want to be with him.”

  “A beautiful princess, popular with everyone?” Jewel’s brows slanted up.

  “But—people who are vastly different—can’t they find one another interesting? I mean, I have so little experience. But it seems true.”

  Jewel affected a shudder. “Only a thorough rotter could have the bad taste to fall in love with him.” She snickered again. “If she is indeed nice, let’s talk her out of marrying him. What a score that would be. And if she’s not nice, let’s talk her out of it anyway. Then when he marches his army over to fetch her, they both look silly. Serve him right. Hah!”

  I couldn’t help laughing, and as usual, the more I laughed, the more Jewel’s mood improved.

  By evening we came to a guard outpost. Markham was waved through the gates, and within a short space of time we’d been shown to a somewhat spare set of rooms, clean and comfortable, but as plain as you’d expect at an outpost.

  We dined early. I offered to while away the time by playing the lute, which I had requested permission—through Berry, because we never saw Jason—to take. Jewel listened for a short time, then danced about the room with an imaginary partner. But she was yawning long before I was tired of playing, and so she went off to sleep.

  When I set aside the lute, Markham entered the room. Despite his size his footfalls were so soft one almost didn’t hear him. “Do you have any orders for the morrow?”

  “No. Thank you,” I said, looking at those oblique, deep-set dark eyes. I wondered what he was thinking.

  The man bowed and withdrew.

  I sat for a while longer, contemplating my reaction. It was difficult to define. Was it Markham’s unstated authority? Though he’d asked me for orders, I knew very well we were in his charge. The staff answered to him. Markham was unswervingly polite, but so unreadable it was like having Jason present.

  At least we did have an intimidating-looking escort—most of the men wearing those wicked-looking thin mustaches like Jason’s. It would have to be a good-sized gang of thieves to waylay us; meanwhile, couriers had been sent ahead to apprise Queen Tamara, sister to the legendary Eleandra, of our approaching visit, and to order clothing in the current styles obtaining in Dantherei. All we traveled with was riding gear, though Jewel had insisted on bringing her favorite gowns from Carnison. I suspected they were a waste of space, for fashion did not flow from my homeland north, but the other way. Chiar-on-Tann had been built a hundred years before the market town of Carnison had been chosen as the royal residence by my distant ancestor; now the great capital of Dantherei was called Char Tann, a transmutation that evoked Eidervaen, the mythic capital of faraway Sartor.

  We descended from the rocky hills comprising the border to look out over broad, rich farmland. There was one great river to cross before we reached a well-tended royal highway that was busy with traffic from dawn to dusk.

  Our cavalcade was nothing to be ashamed of. Our two scouts had returned and rode at the front as banner bearers. One carried a banner in my Lygieran blue, the other the dark green and pale gold of Ralanor Veleth. The liveried servants rode in columns behind Jewel and me, all of us on beautifully mannered plains-bred horses that were one of Ralanor Veleth’s few enduring resources.

  When we reached the broad and slow-running Tann, we crossed its splendid mage-built bridge. From its height were able to l
ook over the entire city laid out below us, which appeared prosperous from our vantage. Built along the low hills parallel to the river was the royal palace, gleaming pearl white in the late summer sun.

  Judging from the size, it was a little city on its own. Most of the buildings were obscured by tall golden chestnut trees, silver alders and well-trimmed lindens.

  When we approached the city gates, Markham rode ahead. He was met by a woman nearly as tall as him. Her blond hair gleamed around the edges of her helm as she bent to hear what Markham said, then she waved a gauntleted hand and we passed inside, up a brick-tiled street toward the royal palace. Very fine shops lined both sides, at intervals broken by little park-circles with fountains in their midst.

  When we reached the gates round the palace complex, the female guards waved us on. Markham saluted as we passed, professional to professional.

  We were met by liveried servants in gray and pale mauve and silver, who led us down a side path charmingly bordered by exotic shrubs that still showed blossoms, though the bite of autumn was in the air.

  The vast gardens were carefully tended to convey an impression of artistic profusion, the tall flowering trees evidence of several generations of attention. Secluded buildings were visible here and there. The garden opened onto a grand parade before the royal residence itself, a great U-shaped building fashioned entirely from white marble.

  A herald appeared from a side path. “Welcome to Erevan Palace, your highnesses. If you please to honor us by stepping this way, we can see to your refreshment.”

  Jewel cast me a look of half-laughing alarm.

  As I dismounted, I found a tall, dark shadow at my side. I looked up into Markham’s face. “Your highness. The king bade me request you to write no messages in this place. Any needs can be safely spoken through Lita to me.” His deep voice was expressionless.

  He took the reins of my mount. A little stunned, I gestured my understanding, and he bowed, his long hair swinging forward, and led the horse away.

  Jewel and I followed the herald, who could not have been any older than I. Her walk was graceful, her manner pleasant as she pointed out the various buildings. Some of them were the private residences of those of highest rank and influence. Everyone else stayed in the big palace.

  Up broad marble stairs, across a terrace dotted with potted trees with beautiful amber leaves, and inside. Up more broad marble stairs and midway down a hall. Later I’d discover that your importance dictated where you stayed: enemies or friends of high rank got the suites closest the stairs. People of royal rank who were regarded as neutral, their influence minimal (like Jewel and me, princesses but not heirs), stayed where we were. Those of less importance, or those who had lost royal favor, were consigned to the corners of the building farthest from where the royal family lived.

  Lita had been brought up a back way. She was already busy supervising several efficient servants clad in soft gray-and-white livery, who were putting away the few things we had brought along for the journey. When we entered the murmur of voices abruptly ended, and the palace servants exited through an almost invisible door in one of the walls.

  The furnishings, elegantly curved, were covered by satin cushions, the walls freshly papered. Everything was pale blue, or light, light gold, with crystal sconces to hold candles.

  As Jewel wandered from room to room, exclaiming over everything, more of those quiet gray-dressed people came in with food and drink. After we’d eaten, Jewel expressed a wish to go out, but Lita said, “Your pardon, highness, but we will need to complete the fittings first.”

  Jewel’s eyes widened. “Can you not pass my Carnison gowns through the cleaning frame?”

  Lita shook her head and glanced my way.

  I said, so she wouldn’t have to, “I’m afraid we’re hopelessly behind the fashions here, Jewel. And our first appearance is an important one.”

  Lita cast me a look of muted gratitude. “If it pleases you, your highnesses, Fanler, who came ahead to prepare for your visit, has hired local seamstresses. They’ve already begun the necessary work. We need only today to do the final fittings on walking and formal interview gowns.”

  “That’ll get us through tomorrow,” I put in.

  Jewel flicked her eyes skyward, but submitted, and a little later the new clothes were brought for us to try on. Neither of us cared for the Dantherei fashions, which were mostly heavy brocade stiff with embroidery and beads.

  Jewel whistled. “Are you sure you didn’t pay off that ransom?” she asked when we were alone. “This stuff—plus that company of stitchers—must have cost my villainous brother the equivalent of a year’s meals for the entire army.” Her brows contracted. “Why the largesse? It isn’t like him.”

  “But isn’t it obvious? It’s all to make us look good for his Eleandra.”

  “Mmmmm.” Jewel grinned. “When I see Jaim again, I will tell him our mistake was in not getting Jason paired off years ago.”

  I laughed, deciding not to point out that this romance had taken place before she’d had the least interest in such things. The ten years of experience separating Garian, Jason, Eleandra, and to a certain extent my brother from Jewel and me seemed like a generation.

  The next morning Lita brought us word of the day’s court activities. A herald apprised the guests’ personal staff of general gatherings, which we were apparently expected to attend. More personal invitations would be spoken either in person or by messenger.

  So we were to be presented to Queen Tamara out in the garden at midmorning. When the distant bells rang the carillon, Jewel and I were ready. She said, “Strange! I feel like a sixteen-year-old at her first appearance.”

  I smiled. “I feel like a stuffed cushion. If we do manage to meet any villains, we’re not going to be able to run very far.”

  “Well, they won’t either, if they’re dressed like this.” Jewel held her arms away from her body as she took a deep breath. “Whoop! This bodice is tight. In any case, villains can beware, because I did not come unprepared.”

  “What?”

  In answer she vanished back into her room and reappeared with a long, wicked-looking dagger. “Found it in Jason’s practice salle and decided I needed it more than he did.”

  I laughed. “Well, I can’t imagine anyone needing a knife here.”

  “So I would have thought at Carnison, and then my cursed brother came along. So I hid it under my chemises when I packed. No one will ever know.” She chortled. “Unless I need it.”

  “Come, hurry. The bells did ring and we don’t want to be late.”

  And so we trod sedately in our stiff brocade skirts down the stairway.

  Lita had said that stewards along the pathways would make certain we did not get lost. “Spies,” Jewel whispered, giving a surreptitious tug at her gown.

  The bodices were unyielding fabric, embroidered with garlands of tiny beaded flowers and leaves, and they forced us to stand straight. Jewel insisted she couldn’t breathe and cast me a look of envy, but in truth, the style flattered her curves. What little figure I had was flattened beneath that formidable bodice, making me feel fifteen again.

  I found out quickly that I had to walk in a quick glide or those stiffly beaded and embroidered skirts swung like bells. Poor Jewel, whose walk was characterized by an enticing swing of hip, kept batting down the skirts and then skipping or hopping to counterbalance the weight of the swaying fabric. Her fan knocked against her knees on its fine chain, and she swatted at that too, alternately cursing under her breath and spluttering with laughter.

  A herald in fine livery appeared seemingly from the shrubbery, bowed, and ushered us through the crowd to a broad semicircle of people gathered along the manicured banks of a quiet stream. It was a relief to see that our gowns were indeed the latest style, and furthermore the courtiers, though daunting in their glitter and poise when seen as a mass, were all sizes, including those who had felt it necessary to cinch in their waists to accommodate the fashion. Not just women, for
the men wore long, stiff tunics that were much the same style and fabric, sashed at the waist and then sashed again, baldric-style, over one shoulder. They did not look any more comfortable than the women. No one wore weapons; they were forbidden within the walls of the palace Erevan.

  My mother had brought a die-away drawl from Narieth, a style my brother grew up loathing. Here in Char Tann voices were low, quick, almost a monotone—emotionless. Easy enough to emulate if one so wished.

  Queen Tamara was tall and broad, about forty. She dressed plainly, leaving us convinced that the mysterious Eleandra led the fashions. The queen strolled along the riverbank with a couple of female companions, nodding pleasantly here and there as she contemplated the stream. The sweet sounds of stringed and woodwind instruments drifted from behind the flowered shrubs, where musicians had been concealed.

  The beaded and gemmed brocade reflected sunlight into the eyes. I was not the only one overheated. People around us plied their fans.

  A general, well-bred sigh of pleasure went up as a line of swans sailed with breathtaking grace down the water to vanish among delicate willow fronds. Those whom the queen had already greeted began drifting away.

  So that had been the purpose of the morning?

  Queen Tamara started our way. One of her companions was an older woman dressed in that splendid herald livery. She whispered and the queen nodded; when they neared, the herald spoke our names.

  The royal eyes met mine. I looked into a wide, intelligent face, framed by thin brown hair expertly dressed under a pearl-edged, gold-threaded cap.

  I dropped a curtsey, princess to queen. She acknowledged with a gesture. “How is my cousin of Lygiera?”

  “My father is well, your majesty,” I said, hoping that was true; I suppressed a pang of guilt. But even if I did write a letter, how would I get it carried through Drath to home?

  “And Prince Maxl?”

  “Quite well, thank you.”

  “You must give him my thanks for sending you at last, Princess Flian, as he once pledged. But I am disappointed that he did not return with you. I found him congenial and full of promise.”