One Land, One Duke

by Emerson, Ru

  Chris looked uncomfortable. “Oh. Well. After everything last night, I got sort of pissed off and when Colin started yelling about us busting up his mom's inn, I blew. Well, really,” he added huffily. “We didn't ask those guys in, and it wasn't like any of them got hurt, and there was Mom all white and staggery, Aletto bleeding all over himself and then you—” Chris swallowed, tore off a bite-sized bit of bread and fed it to her. “Hey, that was just bad, lady. Don't do that to me again, will you?"

  "Try not,” Jennifer said rather shortly. It was hard, even with his arm around her shoulders, keeping herself upright. There were filmy edges to everything.

  "Well, anyway, I already talked to the guy this morning and we got it square between us. He doesn't think we did that stuff on purpose and I guess I don't really think any of them got bought off to dump downers in the wine.” Chris separated more bread for her and brought the mug to her lips again. “Boy, I'm sure glad I don't do wine."

  "You didn't drink any?"

  "Well—a swallow of Eddie's, so he wouldn't think I'm totally strange, it's not like back home, you know, people don't have the same attitude and a guy my age can hit the bars and stuff.” He handed her bread. “So even Eddie thinks I'm kind of weird on the subject. But I really don't like drinking around mom when she's trying to quit. You know?"

  "I know. Has to be hard for her."

  "Well, Aletto's helping, they're kind of propping each other up. You sure that's enough?” he added anxiously when she held up a hand to block the mug.

  "Sure. Let me down, okay?” She felt absolutely limp once he got her flat again. Chris set the mug on the floor, pinched off another corner of the bread and ate it himself.

  "You'd better sleep some more,” he mumbled around the mouthful.

  "I'm all right now. Tell me things."

  "Yeah, well.” He finished the bread, chewed and swallowed, nodded. “The inn's pretty emptied out, everyone trying to pass on getting involved, I guess. Mom apologized to Caro for that while she was getting the soup for you, Caro said never mind, she'd be full up the next few nights, local people coming in to find out what happened. Caro didn't wake up until someone out in the courtyard by the barns started yelling when mom dropped on him; I guess she had a pretty good slug of that wine, too. Ernie didn't even know until this morning that anything had happened. Which is good. Mom was totally embarrassed but I don't think anyone caught on what went on outside, it was pretty dark and even with those guys howling at the tops of their lungs about a shapeshifter, no one really saw her. Which is good, too.

  "Aletto's nose was a mess but he let Lialla fix it, and Eddie had a godawful headache when he woke up. Dahven—wow. You know, I am really almost tempted to make him the trade, sword for bo? The guy's got style."

  "He was all right, wasn't he?"

  "Hung over from whatever went in the wine. Pretty dead tired, too, he's across the hall sound asleep. He didn't get cut up or anything, though."

  "He said as much, but I wasn't sure."

  "Yeah. He's the kind of guy who'd tell you he's fine and then fall apart on you. Nice, though, I like him."

  Jennifer grinned faintly. “Yeah. Me, too."

  "Well, I noticed,” her nephew said dryly. “Listen, though: The city guard's probably going to be here any time now. And we don't want them figuring out it's us, do we? So if you're up to listening, I think I've got a plan."

  Jennifer settled herself a little more comfortably and nodded. “Talk."

  Chris talked. It was a little complex and turned on her, mostly. “Aletto and Lialla are the most obvious of us, and probably my description's out there, too. You know, the clothes and the hair, I stand out. But you—you're pretty ordinary-sized and all, mostly it's all the curly hair, right? So Caro's got a scarf to hide that. And what we can do, is right where your forehead is, I can trim my hair, some off the back, you've got tape, we'll make it like you've got a few dark blonde, straight bangs."

  "Let me think.” Jennifer considered this. “There's holes."

  "Yeah, well, we aren't the only outlanders in Rhadaz, and Caro says she gets them in here because everyone knows she's outlander. We push for mistaken identity, right?"

  "I—well..."

  "And you stay flat and look pale and weak, they won't bug you too much. Caro says the city guard can be pretty obnoxious but they wouldn't get tough on a wounded woman.” He glanced at her arm. “And if we wrap that back up, so no one can tell Li worked on it—” He shrugged. “We really don't have a lot of options, if we're gonna keep the noble boys wonder—remembered, see?—keep the guys out of the clink."

  "I'm not the best actress around,” Jennifer said dubiously.

  "Around here, you just might be. Tell me where your big bag is, okay?"

  She napped again after Chris left, and woke feeling a little less desperately unnerved, perhaps even a little hungry. Caro and Robyn came in to check on her, and Caro went in search of more soup, some drinking water while Robyn searched out Jennifer's handbag, then unfolded a long piece of badly stained cloth. “Chris sent this up, with his love,” Robyn said. A piece of cut hair, about an inch long and enough to cover part of Jen's forehead, lay on the fabric. Robyn dug up the roll of clear tape, tore off a length and gingerly affixed the hair to it, then to her sister's brow. “Caro's got a dark brown scarf, make you look really pale. Not that you need it much."

  "Yeah. Feel pale."

  "This rag didn't come all the way clean; we'll wrap your arm in it."

  "Carefully, all right?"

  Robyn sat up, tilted her head to one side. “Sure. Quickly, though. I think we have company coming.” She moved over to the window, put the curtain aside and glanced out. “Wow. Flash and dazzle uniforms and there must be twenty of them.” She came back, sat on the other bed and looked at her sister anxiously. “They look awfully damned official. Kiddo, can you handle this?"

  Jennifer sighed. “I don't have much choice now, do I? See if you can't get a little of the soup down me before they come rousting in here, will you?"

  10

  She could hear them down in the courtyard, a clatter of horses and plenty of metal harness. She concentrated on drinking soup, leaving Robyn to wad damp, flat hair back in a makeshift knot before wrapping the whole in a scarf, bandana style. Robyn fiddled with the taped hair on Jennifer's forehead, sat back to look at the effect and whistled. “Wow. That really changes you. Don't move around very much; I didn't have any way to pin your hair up, and it could fall down."

  "Don't think I'll be moving very much.” Jennifer handed her the soup mug and set her jaw. “Get that grubby-looking thing around my arm before I lose my nerve, will you?"

  "Yeah.” Robyn glanced nervously over her shoulder and began winding the long strip of fabric down her sister's arm. She tucked the ends under, pressed Jennifer's thumb over that and put the arm flat against her side. “I know I don't have to tell you not to move that, right?"

  "Don't even—” Jennifer looked up as the door creaked; Dahven, plainly clad in brown roughspun breeches and shirt, a darker long vest, heavy boots much too large for him, came across the room to sit on the other bed. His hair was parted and flattened with water, tied across the ears with a dark band of fabric that looked like the one Colin wore. “What are you doing in here?” she hissed. “They're already here, they'll catch you!"

  "Leave it,” Robyn said tersely. “It was Chris's notion, those guys are bound to wonder why you had two rooms and all that damage, aren't they? Edrith is down talking to them right now. He's your cousin by marriage, Gemric, by the way—"

  "I'll never remember that,” Jennifer said and clutched at her hair. Robyn lightly slapped the hand away.

  "Your cousin, you can remember that, can't you? This is your husband, he's a fairly prosperous farmer from the northern pan of Andar Perigha, and you don't have to call him anything but sweetie, do you?"

  "Oh, God, Birdy, this isn't going to work—"

  "Of course it is. Take a deep breath, slow down. Yo
u've got a few minutes, Caro's delaying them as much as possible. You came south to see the Festival and to visit with the outlander running this inn; you'd heard there was one.” Robyn looked down at her and nodded. “You can do it, you're good at this, remember? Didn't you tell me being a trial lawyer was half acting?"

  "Yeah, but, I never got a chance to do it for real—!"

  "You acted in high school. I can't do it, we all know that, you're stuck. Don't think about anything but these guys and the ones who jumped you, all right? Don't try anything fancy, just remember who you are, who this is. Don't sass the guards, they apparently don't like that."

  "Don't mouth the cops,” Jennifer said faintly.

  "Don't bug the fuzz,” Robyn replied and managed a grin. “Look, I'm gone, Caro's letting me hang out in one of the rooms at the end; Chris is keeping Aletto and Li company down in the larder. There's a thought, isn't it?” Robyn hesitated, bent swiftly and kissed Jennifer's cheek. “You can do it, kiddo. Go for it, all right?"

  Dahven watched her go. Jennifer turned to look at him. “I'm not leaving you,” he said, before she could say anything.

  "They'll know you—"

  "How?” he asked reasonably. “Chris and I talked it over. No one has any kind of likeness of me, none of the Emperor's guard is likely to have seen me in years. They'll see a peasant farmer in his clean best, a man worried about his outlander wife. Nothing more. More suspicious if I wasn't here, and Edrith looks much too young for you to have wed."

  "I don't—” Jennifer began. A hard tap against the door sill interrupted her; a moment later, without invitation, three men in red and gold uniform were inside the room.

  Arrogant wasn't the word for them, Jennifer later decided. They were also sharp, full of questions, suspicious. It made her extremely nervous, but it also settled her mind and she maintained the part Chris and Robyn had created for her. It wasn't difficult at all for her to appear weak and hurt. Dahven spoke only when addressed, and slowly, his words very basic and accented. He kept his eyes on her as much as possible, and radiated worry.

  She had to credit Chris; it wouldn't have occurred to her anyone would wonder about three or four people having private rooms. Here it really did seem to be the exception rather than the rule for anyone to utilize them. She sighed, let her eyes close when the master guard asked her yet again. “I can't sleep around strangers, that's dangerous in my world. And—” she cast Dahven a very wan smile—"we only married a little while ago, we wanted privacy. His cousin—I could hardly ask him to sleep among all those strange men, and he'd drunk a lot of wine. I asked the innkeep if we could have a separate room for him.” She turned the smile on the master guard and sighed faintly. “I didn't see anything wrong in it.” They questioned her closely about the attack itself. “I was asleep, I don't really know much, and I found it hard to understand them. It's not my language, you know. I think they wanted someone else—someone called me Duchess."

  "Duchess,” one of the men repeated. He exchanged a glance with the others but didn't volunteer any information. “Any other names that you heard?"

  For one moment, she half considered giving them Jadek's, or one of the twins’ names, but decided not to try it. Better to let the guard think she knew nothing else; mention such names and they might decide she warranted more questioning and she didn't think she could dissemble indefinitely. And it made her terribly nervous, Dahven sitting right under their noses. “I'm sorry,” she whispered. “It was all so quick, and then when I tried to get away, and the one man cut my arm—I can't remember anything else."

  "Sirs, my wife is in pain,” Dahven put in quietly.

  "Yes. Of course.” The men moved to the end of the beds, conferred in very low voices. Finally the master guard looked at both of them. “You still intend on the Festival?"

  "We hope to,” Jennifer said. “If we have enough money left."

  "The innkeep told your cousin she'd pay for the local healer,” the guard said. He glanced at Dahven. “The men who attacked you. Who used a blade against them?"

  "I—” Dahven blinked. “I carry a knife, of course. I may have cut one or more, I don't recall."

  "You served a term of guard?"

  "Not yet."

  "Your cousin has served?"

  "No. The farm is new, we're both required to work it."

  "I see.” The master guard eyed him thoughtfully; Jennifer felt her stomach contract. But he finally nodded. “One of the dead bore a purse, much too fine a fabric to belong to one of his class; it held twenty silver ceris. Either he stole it, or it was paid him in exchange for an attack against an outlander woman and those with her.” He was silent again, turned on Jennifer suddenly. “Have you heard the name Aletto?” She gazed up at him—she hoped blankly—and shook her head. “Lialla? Sin-Duchess Lialla?"

  "I don't think—no,” she said doubtfully. “Sin-Duchess. That might have been what someone said last night."

  "You're a lone outlander?” She nodded. “We won't trouble you more, just now. If you remember anything else, send word to the city guard, the innkeep will know how to reach us.” He folded his arms and drew himself up to full, impressive, height. “The Emperor does not permit such lawless behavior. It seems unlikely the men below initiated the attack—they ordinarily wouldn't leave the city walls, nor even the dock area, certainly not to travel half a day's hard ride to this inn. For simple robbery? It's ridiculous.” He glared down at her. Right, Jennifer thought. I agree, but that doesn't make it my fault I got jumped, does it? She let her eyes close again, sighed faintly. Dahven's fingers trembled against her cheek. She heard the clomp of heavy feet across the floorboards, heard the door swing shut behind the guards. She forced one eye open; Dahven's finger slipped down to her lips and she nodded. It was an old trick, probably one they knew, too: Leave someone outside the door to listen.

  "You're all right?” Dahven asked finally; he maintained the accent, she noticed.

  "All right,” she agreed. “I'd like something to drink, though. Water, tea—” Her eyes went to the door, and he nodded.

  "I'll go, get something from the innkeep.” He got to his feet, went to the door and pulled it open. He turned back, then. “No one,” he said in a low voice. “Wait—” He vanished into the hall, came back a moment later. “Nor across in the other room. You still want—?"

  "No.” Jennifer shook her head, drew a shuddering breath and held out her right hand. “Don't go, they don't need another look at you, and—I need you."

  The smile he gave her had all the warmth and charm of the very first one, back in his father's tower and it went through her with the same warm shock. “I like being needed,” he said, and came back across the room.

  They heard men riding off some time later; Dahven wanted to look, Jennifer wouldn't let him. “I don't care if you'd normally be curious about them, if you were some dirt farmer. Please don't.” She shifted cautiously; he finally nodded, shed Colin's enormous boots and edged past her so he could settle on top of the comfort on her right side. “If they're suspicious, I don't want to know yet; if not, if it's all right down there—we'll find out soon enough."

  "Too soon, probably,” Dahven grumbled, but he was smiling when he edged up onto one elbow. He touched her forehead lightly, brushed at the hair Robyn had taped there. “I prefer your real hair."

  Jennifer managed a smile; she was terribly tired, all at once. “I owe Chris, you know what that must have cost him?"

  "I was there when Robyn cut it. It didn't show much, she gave him a terrible time about it, but she was very careful when it came time to actually take any.” He leaned forward, touched his lips against her cheek. “You're much too pale."

  "I feel pale. I'm sorry, Dahven—"

  "Why? Sleep some more, you need it."

  "Not until we hear something from downstairs,” Jennifer began. Quick, heavy footsteps in the hall silenced her; Dahven clutched her fingers anxiously. Chris and Edrith pushed into the room a moment later, though, and Jennifer could
tell at once by the look on her nephew's face that they'd pulled it off.

  Chris was laughing excitedly; his eyes were a little too bright. “Oh, man? They bought it, you know?"

  "No. Tell me.” Jennifer let Dahven edge her partway back up, let him and Edrith stuff several pillows behind her so she could hold her own cup and drink the leftover water Robyn had brought earlier.

  Chris sat hard on the edge of the spare bed, ran a surreptitious hand over his eyes and under his nose. “Hey, you're the one who sold them, lady."

  "They talked to the innkeep and her son,” Edrith said. “And I thought they'd never be done asking me questions. I told them I have nightmares, loud ones, that was why I had the separate room and you two didn't want me in with you, even with the two beds. I guess that was all right. They finally gave up and went to work on Ernie, but he didn't know anything because he was full of sleeping stuff and he kept dozing off on them. They gave up on him, and I thought they were getting upset—they say that isn't good, city guard isn't like other guard and I explained about the broken leg, about the stuff he's taking to keep him quiet so it can heal. Some of them went off to poke around the common room and talk to anyone who was still about; some went on out to the horse barn to talk to prisoners and look over the bodies. And then the big fellow with all the officer markings on his jacket picked two of his followers and went up the stairs to talk to you: I don't think I even breathed until they came back down without either one of you.” He looked across to Dahven. “They didn't recognize you?"

  "How?” Dahven asked simply.

  Chris shrugged. “I heard someone say there were descriptions of you, Aletto and Lialla. Not that you look much like you did the first time I met you, right now. Anyway, they finally came back down and I could hear them up in the kitchen, laying down the law to Caro about sending someone for them if you remembered anything, if other outlanders showed up, particularly if they were in the company of any member of the Rhadazi upper class. I'm glad I wasn't in on that, I was getting pissed at the guy's tone of voice, but Caro just took it and said she'd be glad to."