One Good Knight

by Mercedes Lackey

  “Well, he’s the one that sent me with the dragon One Good Knight

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  scale to keep leading you to the dragon,” the fox pointed out, as if he assumed they had already known this rather crucial fact.

  “He sent you with a dragon scale?” Periapt yelped.

  The dragon reared up to his full height, dark against the rising moon, his wings half mantled in surprise.

  His reaction made Andie jump; truth to tell he looked terribly dangerous at that moment.

  The fox leapt back, startled, landing on all fours with his fur bristling. “Of course. Where did you think I’d gotten it? Or didn’t they tell you they were following what they thought was a trail of scales?”

  “For the record,” Gina said tightly, “I never thought I was following a trail of scales. I knew it was the same scale being moved. But I knew someone was watching us and I didn’t want to betray myself or what I knew. So we acted as if we thought that there was a trail of scales to follow.”

  “You have one of our scales?” The otherwise mild-mannered Peri was not going to let the fox off this particular hook. The voice was that of a roaring fire increased a hundred times.

  And the fox knew perfectly well by the reaction that Peri was not going to allow him merely to brush this off. Not when flames were curling around Peri’s nostrils and flickering at the corners of his mouth.

  Not when his eyes had begun to glow an omi-nously darker red.

  He began to edge his way out of the courtyard.

  Backward, which is difficult for a four-legged crea-

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  ture. “I’ll—uh—be fetching it then, shall I? Right away. Don’t mind at all. Know right where it is—”

  He was snatched off his four feet and into the air by Gina, who held him up by the scruff of the neck.

  He hung limply from her grasp as she shook him slightly. “You will be getting the scale, of course,” she said pleasantly. “But not just yet, I don’t think. First you’ll be telling us everything you know and observed of the Queen of Acadia’s Chief Adviser who just happens to be a Magician. Won’t you.”

  It wasn’t a question.

  And it turned out that the fox knew a lot more than anyone had ever dreamed possible. In fact, he was a veritable cornucopia of information.

  Some of the other girls had gotten torches, lit them and stuck them in the rusted sconces still attached to a few of the pillars around the courtyard.

  There was plenty of light to see by, and now that the fox knew he wasn’t going to be incinerated, he had regained his aplomb.

  “Cats,” he said succinctly. “You two-legs think they’re so inscrutable. They are the world’s worst gossips. And they are everywhere.”

  Andie had to agree to that statement. The Palace was full of cats. Lean, hardworking cellar cats, ener-getic kitchen cats, pampered, aloof darlings of Cassiopeia’s ladies—you couldn’t walk ten feet without seeing a cat somewhere. The Queen didn’t mind, because cats didn’t demand attention the way One Good Knight

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  dogs did, nor were they noisy, and as long as her maids could keep her gowns cat-hair free, she tolerated the creatures.

  And as if they understood the limits of that tolerance, they kept their territorial squabbles and amorous serenades out of earshot of the Queen’s Wing.

  “I’m not a dog, but I’m not a cat, either, which makes me a kind of neutral party,” the fox went on.

  “So they like to come to me and gossip about each other, and I nod and make all the right sorts of noises in the right places, and that kept me from going crazy with boredom, locked up in that little cage in Solon’s quarters. But as well as gossiping about each other, they like to gossip about the humans.” He tilted his head to the side. “Oh, did you know there’s a hidden passage that connects Solon’s rooms with the Queen’s? I bet people have been wondering for years if they were lovers.” He made a kind of snickering sound. “They are. Oh, yes, indeed they are. Have been for years as far as I can tell.”

  Andie nodded numbly. Her mother and—Solon?

  Nasty. She shook her head. Just—nasty.

  And then, suddenly, she wondered. How long had that been going on? Because it would not be the first time that a lover had killed an “inconvenient” husband.

  She did not like where that thought was going and resolutely shoved it aside. It was no business of hers if her mother took a lover. Her mother had every right. It wasn’t as if she was being untrue to anyone.

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  “Now Solon is under the impression that he is a very cunning fellow. And you have to admit that he’s cunning enough to have made all of you underestimate him,” the fox continued with relish. “The thing is, he is not really prepared to be the power behind the throne. He wants to be the power on it.”

  Andie started at that, and stared at the fox. The fox gave her an odd look. “I thought for certain you must know all about this, Princess. You are not only a human, you were raised in the Court.”

  She shook her head. “Never an inkling,” she said, feeling horribly naive, not to say stupid.

  “Well, he talks to his Familiars. Or rather, he talks at his Familiars, since we really can’t answer him back, and even if we could, he’s never drunk dragon’s blood so he wouldn’t understand us. Not that he would listen.” The fox sighed theatrically. “He’s tried to get dragon’s blood, but every time he bought what he thought was the right stuff, he was cheated.”

  “Not surprising,” Adam rumbled. “We good and decent dragons don’t give ours up except to those we trust. And the blood of the slain…well, it’s really hard to kill a dragon, and harder still to collect the blood of a dead one.”

  The fox nodded. “Well, to make a long story far too short, he wants to sit on the throne. To do that, he first has to marry the Queen, then get rid of her somehow. Which, given that the man has more bottles of potions and ingredients than I have hairs in my tail, makes me think that he would not have a lot One Good Knight

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  of trouble doing that. Then he has to get people to follow him. That is likely going to be the hardest part, if he’s as disliked as the cats think.”

  “In every coup or assassination attempt,” Periapt said, though he was showing some signs of boredom, “there is generally a point where the first strong voice to be heard will be the one that is followed. If that voice is also that of the Prince-Consort, who better to follow?”

  Someone who isn’t her murderer? Andie thought, her blood running cold at all of this.

  But she didn’t say it aloud.

  “Well, Solon was fairly sure that under the right circumstances he could arrange that it would all fall into place,” the fox said. “Personally the cats and I think he’s being far too overconfident about all this. Still—”

  “Still,” Peri put in, “he has The Tradition behind him. It is quite the classic story, really. The trusted Adviser who really intends to usurp the throne…”

  “But what is really funny is the Queen,” the fox said with relish, the tip of his tail swishing back and forth. “She intends to do away with him, as well. Or so the cats tell me. She thinks he is getting arrogant and dangerous.”

  “Which of course, he is,” Andie murmured.

  “And she wants to be rid of him as soon as he is no longer useful—the cats said, anyway. She is going to replace him with someone younger.” The fox opened his mouth in a silent laugh.

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  Andie was feeling rather sick at this point. This was a side of her mother she had not expected. She knew, of course, that Cassiopeia was calculating, but she had not dreamed that her mother was so ruthless. She knew the Queen was manipulative. She’d never guessed just how cold-hearted.

  “Let me put the pieces together here,” Periapt said, sounding more alert. “The sorcerer has every intention of wedding the Queen, then eliminating her,
in such a way that the throne is offered to him.

  While the Queen, growing weary of his arrogance, fully intends to eliminate him at her earliest opportunity.” He cocked his head as Andie swallowed.

  “What a charming game of double deception those two are playing on one another. If the circumstances were not what they are, it would even be worth watching them. But as things stand, too many others are likely to be hurt.”

  “I would say that is an understatement,” said Gina into the silence.

  “Now since the fox has one of my brother’s scales, we can probably assume it is the scale and act accordingly.” Periapt nodded graciously. “You may go, fox, and bring back the scale so that we can destroy it. That, at least, will put an end to the compulsions to go and carry off maidens, which in turn will put an end to the sacrifices.”

  The fox didn’t require a second invitation. He was out the doorway and into the darkness in no time.

  “However, I, at least, am not inclined to fly off and One Good Knight

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  leave the rest of you to deal with this situation. You, young ladies, are our friends. And now it all fits into place,” Peri continued. “Why the dragon, why the maidens.” He turned his gaze on her. “Because, Princess, both Solon and your mother needed a way to be rid of you.”

  She felt her blood running cold. “But…why?”

  Solon she could understand, but her mother? Her own mother?

  And yet she couldn’t deny the logic of the argument. Her mother would have had to agree to having her name drawn out by lot—because if Solon was as good a Magician as the fox claimed, he could certainly ensure that the name drawn was the name he wanted drawn.

  But her mother? “Why my mother?” she managed to get out.

  “That,” Peri admitted, “I cannot reason out.

  Though, I am certain that she has a very good reason for it. And Solon’s reason should be obvious.”

  She nodded. “Until I am dead he can’t sit on the throne.”

  “So he brings a dragon to take care of getting rid of you in a public manner that leaves no blame or accusation for him to face,” Peri said. “It would be difficult for anyone who is not aware he is a Mage to attach any blame to him. It is possibly useful to him to have a dragon to manipulate others, as well. Are there any enemies of his who have ceased complaining since the dragon began taking sacrifices?” Peri asked.

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  She thought. “As many as a half-dozen, I think.”

  “All of whom have daughters that might be next if they do not support him.” Periapt gazed wisely at her. “Although no one could know for certain that he had any power over the lottery, would anyone dare take the chance that he did? I would imagine he has already made an example of one such family.”

  “That would be mine,” Cleo said angrily. Her eyes flashed and she stood in a way that made Andie think it would be a very bad idea to cross her.

  “And there you have it. Our key in a nutshell. A way to hold power over his enemies in the Court, a way to be rid of the Princess—and all without anyone realizing who was behind it all. It really is a brilliant plan, if you happen to be an amoral, evil beast.”

  Peri turned his gaze back on Andie. “Meanwhile the Queen also has you eliminated, for reasons of her own.”

  She nodded numbly. All this made too much sense. Far too much. And she didn’t want to think about it. Her own mother wanting her dead— It made her want to retch and cry at the same time. She felt sick. She felt angry. She felt—abandoned, actually. Betrayed.

  “And of course,” Periapt continued, “he had to make sure that no Champion could cross the Border and ruin his plans.”

  “I suppose he must not have thought there might be such a thing as a female Champion,”

  rumbled Adamant.

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  “No wonder my job didn’t seem finished,” muttered Gina.

  And suddenly they were all left standing there, staring at one other, in the now-uncomfortable semi-darkness. And probably wondering what they could possibly say to one another now.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “We’ll sleep on it,” Peri said finally. “There is absolutely no point in trying to make further plans now, except—”

  All of them turned at the sound of claws clicking on stone. A moment later, the fox appeared in the doorway, carrying the plate-size scale carefully in his teeth.

  “—except to destroy that,” Peri finished.

  “How?” Gina asked doubtfully. “I have always been under the impression that dragon scales were nearly indestructible.”

  “Vinegar,” Peri said serenely, and turned to Thalia. “Can you fetch the big jug of wine that went off, please?”

  “You mean we’ve finally got a use for that wretched stuff?” Thalia exclaimed. “Oh, grand!” She edged past the prone body of Adam, who twitched One Good Knight

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  his tail out of the way for her, and headed for the room that served as their pantry.

  “It is pretty wretched,” Cleo agreed. “Even as vinegar. But I’m not sure—how is vinegar going to work to destroy the scale?”

  “It won’t destroy it, exactly,” Peri said, as Thalia returned with a large, and seemingly heavy jug that sloshed. “You see, what happens is this—the vinegar dissolves something. It’s the same thing that makes both bones and our scales hard. Once whatever-it-is is dissolved, then the scale will be like a big piece of wet leather. Except that when it dries again, it will be brittle and can be pounded into powder.”

  Gina found a stone basin that had probably once been a bird-bath or something of the sort—for a fortress, this place had once boasted a number of civ-ilized amenities, and it was clear that this courtyard had been nothing more than a pleasant place to sit and relax. The basin was big enough to hold the scale, which Thalia took from the fox and dropped in, pouring the musty-smelling vinegar over the top until the scale was entirely immersed.

  Andie wrinkled her nose. She liked the sharp taste of vinegar on things herself, but this stuff was nasty.

  It must have been inferior wine to begin with, and it certainly had not turned into good vinegar. She found it far more comfortable to focus on trivialities like this than on—

  On the idea that her mother wanted her dead.

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  Every time she thought about it, it made her feel horrible.

  But it might not be true. It might be a mistake. It might be that Solon had worked some sort of magic on Cassiopeia to make her acquiesce to this. Surely that had to be it. Surely her mother, her own mother, could not have wanted her dead.

  Gina quickly found a slab of stone to put over the top of the basin to seal in the fumes.

  Another triviality: vinegar made dragon scales fragile. And Peri had just essentially revealed that to all of them. Someday that might prove to have been a mistake. People talked. “Isn’t it dangerous for you to let this secret—oh—” Andie said, and blushed, realizing in the next moment what a silly question that was.

  “Yes,” Peri said, his mouth gaping in a grin. “I hardly think that we are in any danger whatsoever of some dragon-hunter steeping us in bowls of vinegar to soften our scales. It will take at least one full day for that scale to become soft, perhaps more.”

  “Not exactly a weapon, then,” said Andie, blushing again.

  “Not exactly.” Peri stood up and stretched, extending his wings up into the night sky. “I am for sleep. Sleep will likely bring us many more ideas of what we can do about this situation.” He swiveled his head on his long neck to look at each of them in turn. “Rest assured, even if the spell on Adam is broken, I do not intend to leave until we One Good Knight

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  have it all sorted and you young ladies can go home again.”

  Maybe sleep would give her a reason why it couldn’t possibly be Cassiopeia who was involved in this. Why it had to be al
l Solon’s idea.

  “Even if he would, I wouldn’t let him,” Adam said, doing the same. “It may not be our fault that you’re here, but we’re mixed into it now, and it’s our responsibility to get things put right.”

  And with that astonishing statement they both turned and took the couple of steps needed to bring them to the far wall of the courtyard. The two dragons did not, as she half expected them to, fly out of the courtyard. Instead, they climbed out, in a most leisurely manner, and settled themselves, one on either side of the entrance to the main section of the fortress. As they lay down and became still, they looked like gigantic stone sculptures. The maidens gathered up their mantles and the cushions that one or two of them had brought to sit on, and made their way toward that entrance. Thalia stayed behind, taking down the torches and plunging them into a bucket of sand to extinguish them.

  “Come on,” Amaranth said, gesturing to the two of them. “We’ve already taken your things to a room.

  I’ll show you.”

  As each of the girls reached the doorway, she stopped long enough to take a taper from a pile on a ledge just inside and light it at the torch in the sconce outside.

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  It was like walking into a cave. Unlike the open, airy Palace, this place was very closed in, with thick walls and relatively narrow passages. Made to be held in a siege, with corridors that a single determined man could defend, or so Andie reckoned. It made her feel a bit confined, but on the other hand, the solid construction had enabled the building to withstand weather and time. So she supposed she needed to be grateful for that much.

  Tiny rooms opened up onto the corridor, rooms that would have been like monastic cells if each of the girls hadn’t made hers comfortable in her own way and according to her own taste. As she passed, Andie got glimpses of a riot of draped fabrics like a gypsy tent in one, a tapestry loom in another, painted murals of garden scenes in a third. Finally Amaranth brought them to a pair of wide doorways opposite each other, at the point where the corridor ended in a blank wall.