A mighty crash, and I saw that the unknown knight with the blackthorn device had already lost his shield, it being splintered by a direct blow from Lord Sorthannic’s lance. The crowd applauded and cheered, and the two riders wheeled back to their respective corners so they might make another pass.
Once again the great warhorses charged toward one another, the blackthorn knight having been re-outfitted with a new shield. But that shield didn’t seem to bring him any fresh luck, for once again the Duke of Marric’s Rest made a direct hit, this time with such force that his opponent was knocked clean off his horse. At once the Duke pulled his own mount to a stop, so the blackthorn knight might regain his seat, but after a moment it seemed clear that the man was in no condition to continue the match.
The custom at this point was for the victor to withdraw, so the other man’s squires and seconds might see to his needs, but apparently Lord Sorthannic was not one for custom. He dismounted, and went to the fallen knight, offering his hand so the man might regain his feet. The knight took it, nodding, then opened his arms to the watching audience, as if to show that he had taken no lasting hurt.
At once the crowd exploded in cheers, cheers that only grew louder as the heralds announced the Duke of Marric’s Rest as the winner of the first round. After a brief exchange, the two men bowed to one another and exited the ring.
“Quite the gentleman, your duke,” I told my sister.
“He is not ‘my’ duke, as you know all too well. Still,” she added, and this time she could not quite keep the admiration from her voice, try as she might to sound neutral, “it was quite noble of him to offer assistance in such a way.”
“Quite,” I agreed, and covered up a smile by gesturing to one of the servants who stood nearby and asking for a glass of wine.
Lyarris muttered something just then, a word I couldn’t catch but which sounded suspiciously like “impossible.”
Well, I’d been called worse things, I supposed.
* * *
Some hours passed, and some of the skirmishes were quite fierce — fiercer than such an event called for, one would think — but in the end it was Lord Sorthannic who prevailed, and who took for his troubles a handsome purse of a hundred golden crowns, although I doubted he had much need of it. Indeed, I heard later that he had asked for his winnings to be distributed to those establishments throughout the city which undertook to care for the poor. If such a gesture had been made by almost anyone else, I would have questioned its motives, for it seemed a little too pure, too selfless. But the Duke of Marric’s Rest, though I did not know him well, did not seem the type to be playing at politics. Indeed, I guessed he was only present in Iselfex now because it would have looked odd for such a peer of the realm not to take part in the festivities.
But after all that was done, and His Grace had retired along with the other combatants to tidy up for the reception, I rose from my seat and offered Lyarris my hand. “Time to see the candidates at last.”
Almost as one the other nobles sitting in the box rose as well, for of course they could not remain seated in the presence of the Emperor. Lyarris smiled, and took my proffered fingers, getting up with a graceful rustle of her silken skirts.
“The moment you’ve been waiting for,” she replied.
“I will admit to some curiosity.”
“Only some? Then I mistook the gleam in your eyes when you mentioned the girl with the red hair.”
I bowed slightly, acknowledging the jab, then straightened, my expression sobering as our mother drew near.
“Whatever you’re whispering about, stop,” she told us with a fearsome frown. “It is not seemly for the Emperor and the Crown Princess of Sirlende to be trading secrets like little girls passing notes in the schoolroom.”
Ah, Mother, what a singular gift you have for sucking all the joy out of an occasion. But I only treated her to a bow as well, then said, “I fear you have caught me, Mother, for I was teasing Lyarris about her particular interest in the Duke of Marric’s Rest.”
At my words my sister’s eyes widened, and she said hastily, “And teasing is all it was, I assure you.”
A sniff. “Well, I suppose you could do worse, for all that his mother was a nobody out of South Eredor. At least he is a duke…and unattached.”
After making this last salvo, she sailed past, Lord Hein trailing nervously after her. Gods forbid if she should find anything amiss with his preparations — the pavilions not sufficient for the crowds, the iced wine not adequately leavened with fresh fruit. I certainly could find no fault with anything so far, but my mother excelled at picking things apart until she found something to dissatisfy her.
I looked over at my sister, whose normally serene expression appeared somewhat cloudy around the edges. That “unattached” comment had been intended to wound, I had no doubt — a reference to the Earl of Fallyn’s son, who had decided that he loved another.
“Never mind what Mother says,” I remarked, and took Lyarris’ arm so that I might help her out of the somewhat cramped box.
“I try not to, but sometimes…” She faltered, but then lifted her chin and essayed a bright, false smile, as we had just emerged into the hazy afternoon sunlight, and were in full view of the watching crowds. They would wait in their seats, as custom required, until we had taken our places in the great pavilions set up to house the festivities.
I gave her arm a slight reassuring squeeze.“Sometimes it is difficult, I know.”
We made our way along the hard-packed earth of the path that followed the perimeter of the jousting field, on past the stands and into the welcome shade of the first of the pavilions, the silver and black of the imperial banner fluttering from a hard spire of dark iron at its apex. Ten guards had fallen in around us as we walked, but I was so used to such things that I hardly paid them attention anymore. Still, neither my sister nor I said anything further until we entered the pavilion, when Lyarris looked around and exclaimed,
“Oh, it’s lovely!”
Truly, it was. As with the guards, I was so used to the pomp and splendor of living in the palace that I tended not to notice the luxuries around me, but here was beauty of a different sort. Autumn flowers and leaves in warm tones swagged the support braces, and more flowers and fruits had been set out in intricate arrangements on the tables, which fairly groaned with food, even though this had been intended as a simple reception and not a full meal. Apparently Lord Hein had a different concept of “simple” than I did.
I saw the gentleman himself standing off to one side, appearing to hold his breath as my mother inspected the spread for herself. Hoping to forestall any criticisms, I went to him at once and said, “You truly have exceeded my expectations, Lord Hein. If this is what you have managed to accomplish on the first day of the festivities, I can only imagine what is to come on the next four!”
He bowed deeply, relief clear on his lean features. “Your praise is most welcome, Your Majesty.”
“Has the wine been properly iced, Hein?” my mother inquired. “It is such a warm day, I am sure it will all melt before an hour has passed.”
A quick apologetic look at me. I nodded slightly, and the seneschal turned to my mother, saying, “We have put by a great store, Your Majesty, so I am quite sure that it will last the afternoon. Here, let me put your fears to rest.”
And he fetched her a goblet himself, although of course a man of his stature should not be performing such a duty — servitors lined the canvas walls of the pavilion, standing ready to fetch and carry as need be. Then again, my mother always did take pleasure in exercising her own power whenever the opportunity presented itself.
As it seemed the offering of iced wine and fruit was enough to placate her for the nonce, I caught Lord Hein’s eye and said, “And the candidates…?”
“Ah, yes, Your Majesty. My staff is directing them now to their designated locations. We have counted four hundred and twenty-seven, so we are dividing them into groups of a little more than one hundred e
ach and guiding them to the four other pavilions. This one will be kept for the use of the Imperial household only, should you wish to escape the crush if necessary.”
My mouth twitched, but it appeared he did not notice, or at least affected not to. “Excellent plan, Lord Hein.”
“Yes, you must needs have a hidey-hole to flee the throngs of adoring would-be brides,” Lyarris murmured, suppressed laughter clear in her voice.
“Hush, or I’ll have Mother down on you again.”
This threat had the quelling effect I had hoped for, as she fell silent at once. Still, her dark eyes were dancing, and I was glad to see it. At least our mother’s casually cruel remark had not made a lasting impression.
Now that the moment had come, I actually experienced a few pangs of nervousness. Foolish, of course. I was the Emperor of Sirlende, and they were merely girls, young women who of course would be on their best behavior.
But there were so very many of them…
Still, there was nothing for it. I took in a breath, then walked a pace or two, at which point I stopped and looked back at my sister, who had not moved.
“Are you not coming with me?”
“I am not the one in search of a wife, Torric,” she said calmly. “I think it better that I stay here, in the imperial pavilion, whilst you make your rounds. It is safer, for the last thing I want is some girl from the country who has never been to the capital to think me a rival for your attentions.”
“Traitor,” I replied, but I winked at her, to show her that I meant for the word to have no bite.
She gave me the warrior’s salute then, one fist to her breast as she bowed toward me. “Seize the day, brother.”
“I have no doubt of that.”
Any further exchange would be seen as a delaying tactic, so I turned away from her once again and made my way to the next pavilion over, which had been set up some ten yards from the one secured for imperial use. Four guards accompanied me, although what they could do to protect me from a horde of over-zealous noblemen’s daughters, I was not certain.
As I approached I heard an excited chatter of feminine voices, a hubbub which stilled almost immediately as I entered the large tent.
Good gods, there really were more than a hundred of them. Of course I had spent my whole life at court events where those in attendance numbered far more than that, but the young women seemed so concentrated in that smallish space, especially when one considered that I, the four guards attending me, and the four other servants pressed up against the walls were the only men in the place.
Such a sea of glinting color and staring eyes and shining dark hair! Quickly I scanned the group, but I saw no flash of russet among that crowd of black and dark brown. This was only the first pavilion, I reminded myself, and I should not be surprised that she was not here.
The young women were silent, staring at me, and although I had ridden in parades and reviews, traversed the narrow streets of my capital with all eyes on me, somehow that attention had not seemed as intimate, as focused as what greeted me now. Several of the girls had their mouths hanging open slightly, as if they were not quite sure they believed what they were seeing.
Before the silence could become too awkward, I said smoothly, “Greetings, ladies. I thank you for coming, and invite you to partake of the hospitality offered. There is wine, and fruit, and sweetmeats and cheeses and breads. Come, we are here to get to know one another. Mingle, I beg you.”
Perhaps the notion of the Emperor of Sirlende begging them to do anything was too much. I heard a few nervous giggles, followed by some whispered exchanges, and at least several of the bolder girls moved toward the refreshment tables. As if a spell had been broken, the servants sprang into action, filling goblets, handing over small silver plates heaped with delicacies.
Somehow I thought I would have rather waded into the thick of battle than plunge into that group of suddenly lively young women, but my sister was right — I had brought this on myself. Recalling the falsely bright smile she had given the crowds just a few moments earlier, I assumed one of my own and made my way into the throng, nodding as names were thrown at me from all sides — “Marika Tredaris, Your Majesty” — “Alanna Krendil, Your Majesty” — and knowing I would never be able to retain enough to match a face to a name.
Not that it mattered, as none of them were the girl I sought.
I spent a little less than an hour in the first tent, then made my excuses and hastened to the second pavilion. Perhaps she would be there.
But no, once again the red-haired young woman eluded me, and I was forced to spend another hour smiling and nodding and acting as if I would recall them all, when in fact they were all a blur to me. Several were quite pretty, and others seemed charming and sweet, but none of them made any deep impression. It was as if, once I had seen the girl with the gleaming dark-copper hair, I had eyes for no one else.
The third pavilion was a repeat of the first and second, and inwardly I began to despair, wondering if she had left early, had looked upon the crowds and become intimidated, had slipped away before she ever came to one of the great tents. After all, she had looked oddly hesitant, unsure of herself. I could see how a shy girl might be overwhelmed by such a proceeding, especially when she must come unaccompanied by a parent or even a maidservant.
My footsteps were slower as I approached the final pavilion, some of my eagerness gone. In my mind I had already convinced myself that she had left, and that I would have to settle for one of these other girls, none of whom had so far captured my fancy. I entered the tent, and again the voices of the young women went silent immediately as they stared at me. This group seemed more wary, and I thought I could understand why — after all, they had been waiting for some time for me to make my appearance.
“My ladies, my deepest apologies for making you wait so many hours. I do hope that you have found the refreshments pleasing, and that you have not been made too uncomfortable by the wait. It is my — ”
I had been about to say that it was a very great pleasure to meet them all, empty words, if necessary ones, but my breath seemed to catch in my throat. At last I had found her.
She stood off to one side and toward the back, but by some miracle there was an open space before her, so I was able to see her face clearly this time, see the rosebud fullness of her mouth and her pretty little nose and the unusual amber-green of her eyes beneath the arched russet brows. For the time it took my heart to beat three times, our gazes caught and held. I saw her make an odd little gesture toward her throat, as if she, too, found it hard to breathe. And then a tall girl took a step or two to her right, and the young woman I had sought was obscured again, the contact broken.
Still, it was enough. She was here. She had not fled, or decided the throng was too much competition for her. Ah, no. There could have been four thousand girls here today, instead of merely four hundred, and they still would not have offered her any true challenge.
But although I wished to go directly to her, to ignore the eager faces of all the other young women, I knew that would be a churlish thing to do. Oh, I would speak to her, no doubt of that. It would have to appear unforced, however, something which occurred naturally as I made my rounds in the pavilion. How long that would take, I did not know, and the wait would most likely be excruciating, but eventually I would meet her.
And how I would have to pretend that I was interested in anyone else, after I had seen her, I had no idea.
I did guess, however, that the next four days were going to feel very long indeed, if I could not spend them all exclusively with her.
Chapter 5
Ashara
Oh, he truly was the handsomest man I had ever seen. I had thought surely the stories must be exaggerations, that everyone said the Emperor was so very attractive simply because he was, well, the Emperor. But no, now that I had seen him, I thought in truth that the stories had not been effusive enough in their praise.
The wait had been unbearable, standing in
this stuffy pavilion for the greater part of three hours, sipping sparingly at the iced wine so I should not get tipsy, eating just as carefully of the foods put out, which were far richer than what I was used to. The last thing I wanted was to make myself ill with sweetmeats and cheese.
I had hoped to make the acquaintance of some of the other girls, to help pass the time a little more comfortably, but none of them seemed inclined to be friendly, and indeed several of them had flashed me openly hostile glares. Perhaps it was that none of them knew me; I saw several of them chattering with one another, and guessed they must know each other from court, or perhaps if their families’ estates bordered one another. I had no such acquaintances to fall back upon, and so tried to make myself as inconspicuous as possible, staying away from the refreshment tables and trying not to think of the hours passing, and of my aunt having to suffer my stepmother’s whims. I could only hope that my stepmother had been so wearied by getting Jenaris and Shelynne ready that she had taken to her bed soon after they left, thus leaving Aunt Therissa to manage only my kitchen duties.
At least you have had some luck, I told myself, for neither of your stepsisters are here, and it would not have been much fun to attempt to avoid them for the greater part of three hours. True, with so many girls divided amongst four pavilions, the odds had not been terribly high that we would end up in the same place. Still, it was a relief, not having to dodge them.
But then I knew the weary hours of waiting had been worth it, for he entered the pavilion at last. All conversations stopped dead as he apologized for the wait, and told us that he hoped it had not been too terrible. And he paused suddenly, his dark eyes seeming to pierce the crowd to meet mine. I could scarcely breathe. I could do nothing, but stare back at him, taking in the fine sculpted lines of his jaw, the straight strong nose, the sooty black hair held back from his brow by a circlet of gold. How tall he was, and how broad the shoulders under the doublet of fine figured silk in a deep wine shade!
Ashes of Roses (Tales of the Latter Kingdoms Book 4) Page 6
