Dark Haven cotn-3

by Gail Z. Martin

  "That would be a pity," Macaria said. "While you were watching the baker, I saw what's being readied for dinner. Roasted venison and a full boar, with leeks and onions aplenty. And I'll warrant there'll be bread pudding with currants and sweet cream with dates before it's all done."

  Kiara smiled. "Keep it up and you may even make me hungry. Carroway let it slip that there are some special entertainers tonight. What do you know about that?"

  Macaria grinned. "Me? Not a thing. Unless, of course, the queen were to command me to tell..."

  "Consider yourself commanded."

  "Carroway brought dancers from Isencroft before the snows fell. With the army gone, there's no jousting this year, but he's got falconers to give an exhibition in Kait's honor. And of course, after supper everyone exchanges presents."

  "I watched Crevan and the servants carrying in presents for you," Alle added. "There's quite a stack."

  "After what happened at the wedding—do you think it's wise to open all those presents in public?"

  Alle smiled. "Han-tuck assigned guards to unwrap and open all of the presents. He even managed to get one of the Sisters to be on hand, to make sure there was nothing magical. If there are any traps, they'll spring them. Once you've seen the gifts, we'll put them out for everyone else to look at. It's expected."

  "I'm not used to quite such a display—we did that a little more privately in Isencroft."

  Macaria gave an unladylike snort. "Are you joking? That's part of the holiday sport. Everyone wants to see what everyone else gave the king and queen. Since you're with child, and it's the festival of the Mother and Childe here in Margolan, you're sure to receive all kinds of things for the baby—it's the heir, after all. Gift-giving is a kind of competition for the nobility. And since the favored gifts for Winterstide are amulets and talismans, the jewelers and silversmiths can be assured that their shops will be busy when everyone crowds in asking for 'what the queen got from Lord So-and-So.'"

  "Carroway may have something to say about it if we don't go inside soon," Macaria said with a glance toward the courtyard. "Looks as if the minstrels have moved indoors. Which means I'm probably due to perform. I'll see you at supper."

  By evening, the ballroom at Shekerishet glittered. Prismed candleholders sent rays of colored light across the dance floor. Banks of candles filled the air with the scent of the gardens that were sacred to the Childe. Dancers clad in brilliant silk costumes waved streamers high into the air, their belled wrists and ankles adding to the music. Out in the courtyard, candles in ornately decorated pierced-tin lanterns traced out complicated glyphs and sigils in the snow, magical markings that shifted and glowed. Prisms and chimes hung from every tree and doorway, and bonfires lit up the night. Those who were not a part of the night's high feast could eat their fill from the vendors in the courtyard who sold bread, sausages, candied fruit and ale.

  "Skrivven for your thoughts," Alle said, leaning toward Kiara.

  Inside the castle's ballroom, musicians kept the partygoers cheering with lively tunes. Macaria was playing, and Kiara knew that the sudden chill in the air was not due to the cold outside. As Macaria played her lute, the ghosts of Shekerishet drew closer, listening as the girl's magic soothed them, swaying their mood and the emotions of the partygoers. Across the room, Kiara could see Carroway watching Macaria with unabashed admiration.

  "He's completely smitten with her—and she never seems to notice."

  Alle chuckled. "She notices. And she'd probably never let it show, since you're the queen and she knows how close you are to Carroway. She's convinced herself she doesn't stand a chance with him."

  "But he's in love with her."

  "Macaria isn't from a titled family. She's earned her court position on the magic of her music. Carroway found her playing in taverns for her living and brought her to the palace. So even though he's just a year or so older, he was her patron. Carroway's the king's best friend, Margolan's master bard, and a hero of the revolution."

  "On the road last year, Carroway must have written a dozen songs for her when we were at Westmarch."

  "And you've decided to play matchmaker?"

  "How do you think Jonmarc and Carina got together? Berry and I put a lot of nudging into that one." She gave Alle a sideways glance. "Not that you and Soterius need any help;"

  Alle laughed. "We'll see."

  Macaria finished her song to thunderous applause, and she bowed. She gave a curtsey in Kiara's direction, and then went backstage with the rest of the minstrels. Kiara looked up to see Lady Eadoin headed her way.

  "Aunt Eadoin—I was beginning to think you weren't coming," Alle said, rising.

  Eadoin gave Alle a peck on the cheek and curtsied to Kiara. "Your Majesty," she said. "You look well tonight."

  Kiara smiled as the elderly matron took a seat. "Thank Cerise. She's gotten my stomach settled enough to keep down a few bites, for show."

  "Your gyregon will be grateful for the remainder, I'm sure," Eadoin said, looking indulgently at Jae. Though the others at court might regard the small gyregon as a pet, tonight, Jae played the role for which his breed had long been regarded by the kings of East-mark. The guests might think that Kiara was indulging the creature by giving him the first bites of her food, but Jae was her taste tester, able with the gyregon's keen sense of smell to detect poison. So far, Jae had been content to wolf down all the tidbits provided to him.

  Around them, the tables were heaped with the bounty of the feast. Platters of roasted venison, a whole boar, and spiced meat pies offered food enough for all. Servants were at the ready to refill goblets of dark mead and mulled wine, while others brought out the egg custards and rich puddings that were customary on this night.

  Kiara laid a hand on Alle's arm. "Where are the vayash moru? I don't even see Mikhail."

  "I'd heard that when the king left for battle, many of the vayash moru felt it best to stay away. After all that the Usurper did against their kind, they weren't sure of their welcome in public without King Martris's presence."

  "That's ridiculous. Mikhail knows he's welcome here."

  Eadoin leaned forward. "I'm sure he knows, m'lady. Perhaps he and the other vayash moru don't wish to place you in an awkward situation when you're so new to Margolan. Jared didn't invent fear of the vayash moru—he just gave people permission to act on what was already in their hearts. And, sad to say, for those who fear the undead, King Martris's support for the vayash moru hasn't banished those fears—it's just made it unpopular to voice them aloud."

  "Then I'm doubly grateful to Mikhail for staying on."

  A blare of trumpets silenced all conversation. "That's your cue," Eadoin said, with a glance toward Kiara. Kiara smoothed her skirts, ready for her formal part in the program.

  "Gracious guests, welcome to the feast," Kiara said in a clear, strong voice. This was her first formal role since the wedding,' and many in the audience strained for a better look at their new queen. "This night, we praise the Mother and Childe for the reign of King Martris, and we ask the Lady's blessing on the king in battle and on Margolan's heir," she said, laying a hand on her belly for emphasis.

  A murmur rippled through the crowd that grew to rousing cheers in support of the king. Kiara waited until the clamor subsided before she went on. "It's time to make an offering to the Mother and Childe, so Margolan may prosper in the year to come."

  Crevan appeared beside her bearing a silver platter. On it was a ramekin of egg custard for an offering to the Lady, along with a flask of port and a freshly baked loaf of bread. He walked beside her as Kiara descended from the dais. The bells at her ankles and wrists chimed as she moved. As they approached the two large statues of Margolan's patron aspects, Kiara took the ramekin from the platter and offered it to the statue of the Childe. "Honored Childe, bless the people and the herds of Margolan. May our children and our flocks increase."

  She took the loaf of bread and the flask of port and bowed to the statue of the Mother. "Wise Mother. Accept our gift
. Bring water enough for our fields and our people, and healthy crops."

  Formalities completed, the musicians struck up a lively tune, and couples on the dance floor wove through round after round of the most popular dances at court. Kiara was grateful that she was not expected to join them. Much as she enjoyed dancing, she doubted she could keep her dinner and swirl through the steps, even had it not been unseemly to dance in the king's absence.

  The revelries continued through the night. As the bells in the bailey tower chimed the hour before dawn. Kiara, Eadoin, and Alle led the guests toward the courtyard, where a parade of costumed revelers and more mulled wine awaited. Two servants opened the huge great room doors for the crowd to move into the grand foyer.

  In the center of the floor lay a man's body in a pool of blood, throat torn open, eyes staring. Behind Kiara, a woman screamed.

  The guards formed a tight circle around Kiara. Tov Harrtuck pushed his way through the crowd, followed by more guards. Crevan came running from the far side of the entranceway. "Your Majesty, this isn't safe—" "Nowhere's safe," Kiara replied. "What happened?" Behind them, the soldiers tried to dispel the crowd, but the revelers surged forward, straining for a look at the body on the floor.

  "They found a second body in the back corridor," Harrtuck said. "It's got all the marks of a vayash moru killing."

  "That's not possible," Kiara said. "There aren't any vayash moru here tonight."

  "Except Mikhail," Crevan said. "No one's seen him all night."

  "That's impossible," Kiara said. She heard the sound of boot steps drawing near in the corridor. Behind Harrtuck, six soldiers marched in tight formation, and Kiara could see a dark-haired figure in their midst.

  "We found him in the exchequer's office, Captain," one of the soldiers reported.

  "Of course I was in the exchequer's office." Mikhail said. "I've been there all night, working on the accounts. Would someone tell me what's going on?"

  Crevan stood slowly. "We've found two dead men—throats torn out."

  The soldiers shifted, and Kiara met Mikhail's eyes. We both know he could easily escape.

  The soldiers are only mortal. But if he does, it's admitting guilt. The truce will be broken, and there'll he reprisals. And if he stays, after all the damage Jared did, will anyone believe him? "I haven't left the exchequer's office since the sixth bells. I wouldn't do anything like this—I fought to save the truce between my kind and mortals. Whoever did this is not of Lord Gabriel's family."

  "It's going to be hard to prove that," Harrtuck said. "As far as we know, you're the only vayash moru in Shekerishet tonight."

  Crevan stood staring at the body, shaking his head. "We've barely gotten the castle staffed again. When word of this gets out—"

  "When word gets out, you'll have a riot on your hands," Harrtuck said gruffly. "And a mob looking for Mikhail."

  Running footsteps sounded behind Kiara. She turned to see another guard. "Captain Harrtuck! We've found another body in the stable—same as the last one."

  "I have no choice," Crevan said. "A tribunal must be called."

  A crowd had already begun to form at the doorway. Gasps at the sight of the dead man's body gave way to murmuring. "Give us the biter!" a man's voice shouted from the entranceway. Other voices took up the cry. "Burn him!"

  Kiara glanced at the sky through the open doors of the entranceway. It was nearly dawn, and once the sun rose, Mikhail would be vulnerable. And while one vayash moru was more than a match for a single human adversary, a mob of hundreds was likely to overpower Mikhail. If they dragged him into the courtyard after dawn, the winter sun would be jury and executioner.

  "There's another way." Kiara stepped forward, pushing her way past the guards. She raised her voice to shout above the crowd. "Hold Mikhail until King Martris returns. Then let the king call the spirits of the murdered men. Let the victims bear witness. You've seen the Court of Spirits. You know the king can do this. There's no need to rush to judgment."

  "Let the king judge!" A voice shouted from the crowd. Kiara recognized Halik's voice. "Give him to King Martris to judge!" another woman shouted, and Kiara was certain it was Macaria. A moment later, Kiara heard a flute playing in the courtyard. The tune was soothing, and Kiara sensed the music was touched with Macaria's magic, trying to sway the crowd from vengeance.

  "When word of this gets out, I may not be able to hold off the mob," Crevan said behind her.

  "Leave that to me." Harrtuck stepped forward. "Mikhail helped put Tris Drayke back on the throne. I won't abandon him to a mob." "How will you hold him—and keep the mob out?"

  "If I'd wanted to escape, I'd be gone by now," Mikhail noted dryly from among his captors.

  "My men will take care of any mob. As for holding him..."

  "There's a cell in the dungeon built to hold vayash moru," Mikhail said. "Three walls of solid rock, and a door of iron a hand's breadth thick, with its pins sunk into the rock. No windows. A small opening to the corridor for food. It can't be breeched."

  "And you would consent to be held there, until the king returns?" Crevan asked.

  "I would rather trust my chances with the king than with a tribunal. I'll wait." Mikhail made a low bow to Kiara. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

  Kiara swung between hopelessness and rage as the soldiers took Mikhail away. Alle laid a hand on her arm. A crowd gathered around the castle entrance, and voices thick with ale shouted for judgment. Soldiers broke up the rowdy festival-goers, sending the brawlers on their way.

  "Come, m'lady. You've done all that you can."

  Kiara let Alle guide her up the stairs to her quarters. They had barely arrived before there was a knock and Macaria's voice sounded through the door. "My Queen?"

  "Come in."

  Macaria let herself into the room. "We saw what happened. Carroway sent us out to the courtyard, to see what we could do to sway the crowd." She grimaced. "We were only partly successful."

  Kiara began to pace. Alle made cups of tea for all of them, and Cerise padded to the door, still dressed in her nightshift. She joined them, listening with an expression of growing horror as Alle told about the murders in the castle. "I know Mikhail didn't do it," Kiara said.

  "Carroway said to tell you that he'd check in on Mikhail," Macaria said. "Damn, I wish this tea were brandy after, the way this night's gone!"

  "I wish Zachar were here." Kiara shivered despite the warmth of the fire. "Crevan's completely overwhelmed. He's only been here since they restaffed the castle. Tris said Crevan waited out the war in Isencroft and came back when it was safe again. Zachar would know what to do."

  "Why don't get your mind off it?" Alle suggested. "There's nothing more to be done tonight. Look—the guards left the gifts for you. Let's have a look. Even if you're not curious, I am!"

  "All right. Come on then." Macaria and Cerise joined Kiara and Alle as they walked over to the table laden with gifts. True to Alle's prediction, many of the gifts were charms and amulets in an impressive variety of ornate and very expensive settings. Kiara looked at all of the jewelry without touching any of the pieces.

  Her hand closed over the talisman at her throat made of Margolan gold, set with two large pearls, one white and one black, in honor of the Lady's dual faces. It was a gift from Tris, left for her to open this morning, and Kiara fingered it, wishing that she could sense in it a trace of his presence. The amulet remained tucked inside her pillow, to keep at bay the shadows that still haunted her dreams.

  "I know you had one of the Sisterhood here when the gifts were opened, but I'm not touching or wearing anything until Tris gets back," Kiara said. "I've had all I want of magicked items!"

  Other sumptuous items covered the table. Garments and baby blankets, woven from soft wool spun as fine as silk. Silver and ivory rattles and teething rings. Pairs of tiny earrings, in styles suitable for either a boy or a girl child. A coverlet of satin with an exquisite embroidered crest. Kiara shifted the coverlet for a better view of the small box beneath
it. Inside was a folded garment and a small vial of oil. An unusual, sharp scent rose from the vial.

  Alle caught her hand. "Don't touch it. Who would dare to give this awful thing!"

  Macaria glanced at the box and paled. "Sweet Mother and Childe," she murmured, making the sign of the Lady. She dug through the gifts. "I can't find a note."

  "What is it?" Cerise asked.

  "Funeral oil," Alle said. "The fabric is a shroud," Alle whispered. "For a baby."

  Kiara felt her blood run cold. "Why? Why would anyone want to do that?"

  "Someone intended to send a message with that gift." Beneath the anger in Alle's voice, Kiara could hear steel. "Your baby's going to reshape the future of the Winter Kingdoms. Every noble stands to gain or lose. Figure out who sent that, how it got into the palace, and we might also find Malae's killer."

  "We're not going to say anything about this," Kiara said. "Whoever gave the gift is'out there, watching. He wants to see how I'll react." I never ran from battle, and I won't run from this. But Sweet Chenne! It won't be long before I can't fight to protect myself—or my baby. What then?

  A knock at the door startled them. Cerise withdrew to her room, and Alle carefully went to open the door. To their surprise, Carroway stood in the doorway. "M'lady, urgent news." Kiara waved him in. Carroway's hair was windblown, and he looked haggard. "Paiva just found me. She came from the tavern in the village. There's an uprising in the borderlands. Jared burned their fields and now the corn Tris sent is gone. The people are hungry and they're waylaying supply wagons." Kiara closed her eyes. "What now?" Carroway looked as upset as Kiara had ever seen him. "I overheard Crevan and Harrtuck— half the castle overheard them, the way Harrtuck was shouting. Crevan's ordering Harrtuck to take a battalion out to the Borderlands to put down the uprising. Harrtuck believes Tris told him to stay here to guard you. Crevan threatened to charge Harrtuck with insubordination, replace him as captain of the guards."

  "Which means that Harrtuck will be a week's ride away from here—for who knows how long," Macaria finished. "Nowhere close to Kiara."