Fortune and Fate

by Sharon Shinn

  “He knows better than to take food from a stranger’s hand,” Kirra said. Donnal put his paws up on the bed and uttered a sharp bark—a hello to Cammon, Senneth supposed—and then he settled back down on his haunches to watch them all.

  Tayse nodded a greeting to Kirra, then pulled up a chair, reversed it, and sat. “Are you coming with us to Gissel Plain?” he inquired. He was always exceedingly blunt with Kirra, which sometimes seemed rude and sometimes seemed the only way to deal with the flighty serramarra. “And if so, why?”

  “Well, that’s not very welcoming!” Kirra said, sitting up. “Yes, I thought I’d join you. Don’t I always lend an air of respectability to any gathering?”

  “Maybe if the gathering was thieves and criminals,” Justin said.

  “Oh—you mean, your typical friends?” she replied sweetly.

  Such byplay was what passed for casual conversation between Justin and Kirra, and Tayse ignored them. “Any reason why you want to join us?” he repeated.

  “Of course I miss you all,” she said in a soulful manner. Then, more briskly, “But, truly, no, I just happened to be in the area and Cammon let me know that you would be passing through. We can stay for dinner and be gone in the morning, if you like.”

  “Oh, come with us to Gissel Plain,” Cammon said. “It’s such a treat to have just the six of us together for a little while. Let’s stretch it out as long as we can.”

  That was when Senneth, startled, looked around the room and realized he was right. By Justin’s smirk, it was clear he had noticed this wondrous fact already. Just the six of them, as it had been three years ago when they first came together on a mission for the king. Some of them strangers then, and a few of them filled with distrust and suspicion. Hardly the group you would have expected to forge such unshakable bonds. Now with the changes in their lives—Justin’s marriage to Ellynor, the birth of his daughter; Cammon’s marriage to Amalie and astonishing elevation in rank—it was rare for the six of them to find themselves together and unencumbered by other responsibilities.

  “We couldn’t have managed this if we’d tried to,” Justin said with a laugh.

  “Then I bow to the fates,” Tayse said, suiting action to words. “Travel with us as long as you like.”

  KIRRA persuaded Cammon to forgo the meal in the taproom so that the six of them could catch up on their lives. Donnal even took human shape for dinner and entertained them with an account of an unfortunate hunting incident in Coravann during which Kirra almost ended up in someone’s supper pot.

  “But when she transmogrified from a quail to a lioness, he threw down his bow and went screaming back through the forest. So she survived,” he ended. “Though I expect the poor man might be mad the rest of his days, gibbering to all his friends about impossible apparitions in the woods.”

  “They must be familiar with mystics in Coravann,” Senneth commented once they’d all stopped laughing. “Marlord Heffel never persecuted them, at any rate, not that I ever heard.”

  “It’s one thing to understand there might be shape-shifters in the world, and another to watch Kirra transform herself,” Donnal said. “Especially when you were just thinking how tasty she would be.”

  “Well, I would have thought that Coravann and Helven and Nocklyn were all practically emptied of mystics by the time Coralinda Gisseltess got through hunting them down,” Kirra said. “Maybe some are starting to drift back now, but I’d wager very few of your ordinary citizens have seen much magic up close.”

  “And the Lumanen Convent still does have some influence in this area,” Senneth said. Coralinda Gisseltess had headed the convent and led the drive to extinguish mystics from Gillengaria. “I believe they have softened their stance somewhat—and they certainly aren’t burning mystics alive anymore!—but they still preach that magic is an abomination.”

  Kirra frowned at Cammon. “Why don’t you shut that place down and send all the novices home?”

  He shook his head. “Amalie feels we will be unable to expect tolerance for mystics if we show intolerance for a group that despises them. She says as long as they offer no violence, they can be allowed to speak. I have to say I agree with her.”

  “But you’ve also stationed permanent overseers near the convent to enforce her doctrine of coexistence,” Tayse said.

  “Well,” Cammon said, “yes.”

  Justin lifted his right hand, which, through some invisible flick of the wrist, held his wicked dagger instead of his butter knife. “Welcome peace, but back it up with a blade,” he said.

  Cammon nodded. “That seems to be the underlying principle of the reign so far.”

  THEY talked late into the night, and consequently did not get a particularly early start. Then, too, Cammon felt compelled to breakfast in the common room to satisfy all the barmaids and shopkeepers and visiting merchants who had hoped for a glimpse of him before he moved on. So it was close to noon before their caravan finally set out, and close to sunset before they pulled in sight of Gissel Plain.

  The city itself spread like a broad, flat valley all around the central feature of the marlord’s mansion. It was, Senneth had to admit, an impressive sight, the central building being almost as big as the palace at Ghosenhall. While it had been expanded over the centuries as proud marlords added wings and annexed acres, each successive generation had made an attempt to harmonize the whole. The entire structure was built of a pleasant sand-colored stone that allowed for towers, crenellations, buttresses, arches, and connecting walkways. It was ringed with a wall of a somewhat darker stone that set it off from the surrounding city and made it easy to defend. And it probably, Senneth thought, offered all sorts of hidden passageways and secret exits that only a lifelong resident would ever discover. Certainly Halchon Gisseltess had seemed to come and go with ease during the time he was theoretically under arrest at this estate.

  Had she married Halchon Gisseltess, as her father had intended, she would have been mistress of this House. Of course, she would have been mad or dead by her own hand within a week of arriving, so she could hardly look at the estate with any real regret. She still found it strange that it was her brother who sat here now. Perhaps the gods had always intended someone with Brassenthwaite blood to rule over Gissel Plain. Perhaps they had not particularly cared which individual it was.

  Three flags waved from the highest tower. The Gisseltess banner showed a black hawk clutching a red flower, and beside it streamed a standard of Brassenthwaite blue. For the third flag, Senneth was pleased to note, someone had thoughtfully commissioned the design that had become Amalie’s personal emblem: the royal gold lion interspersed with the fierce red raelynx, both sewn onto a field of pure black. The Queen’s Riders wore sashes that boasted both lion and raelynx, though Baryn’s men had only sported black-and-gold. It had been easy to see who in Gillengaria was most eager to embrace change by noting who had made a point of flying the new colors.

  “Well,” Senneth said, under her breath, “here we are.”

  DESPITE the lack of love between Senneth and Nate, the first evening the royal entourage spent at Gissel Plain passed civilly enough. Nate hailed them with his usual mix of pride and reserve, but Sabina hugged the women and greeted Cammon with affection. He had accompanied the marlady on a memorable journey before the war and it was clear she felt some fondness for him still.

  Or maybe she was just so much happier with her life, now that her first husband was dead, that she felt a fondness for anyone who was alive and walking through her transformed world. Certainly Sabina herself had changed almost past recognition. She was still small and delicately formed, though perhaps not quite as slender as she had been two years ago, but her thin blond hair had been styled into a froth of curls and her expression was joyful. Released from red and silver hell, Senneth thought. She didn’t know how Sabina had endured being married to Halchon for fifteen years.

  After warmly greeting the general party and inquiring how they had fared on their trip, Sabina asked, “Are
you hungry? We weren’t sure when you were arriving, so tonight’s meal will be simply family. Later in the week, we have invited some of the vassals in to dine.” She glanced at Nate and then at Senneth; Senneth knew what was coming before she spoke again. “Tayse is invited to sit at the table with us, of course, at least when it’s just family.”

  Nate could hardly get past the fact that his sister had married a Rider, and he must have grumbled to Sabina before they arrived about the necessity of treating the soldier as kin. Senneth knew that Tayse would be just as happy to be spared the honor of dining with the nobles, but by the Bright Mother’s red eye, he was her husband and she wanted him at her side. She made her tone surprised and her face blank. “Oh—of course,” she said, as if she couldn’t imagine there had been any question on the topic at all.

  Sabina glanced at Nate again. “And we expect he will stay in your room as well.”

  “Naturally.”

  “I assume Tayse will want at least half the Riders within call, so I hope you have set aside a room for them close to mine,” Cammon said practically.

  “Not that anyone expects trouble here at Gissel Plain,” Senneth said. “Tayse is always overcautious.”

  This didn’t offend Nate in the slightest. “Of course. I expect him to treat the consort’s safety with utmost seriousness. Two rooms have been commandeered for the Riders.”

  After a little more conversation, the members of the royal party were all escorted to their chambers, and Senneth found hers to be very attractive, though a little dark. She was inspecting the burgundy drapes and cherry-wood furniture when she overheard Kirra’s voice from the hall.

  “And my dog may stay in the room with me? You don’t mind?”

  “I’m very fond of dogs,” Nate replied. “As long as he’s well-mannered.”

  “Most excellently behaved, I assure you.”

  Senneth had to smother a laugh.

  DINNER went smoothly enough, though the numbers were uneven and three of the people at the meal scarcely spoke at all. Present besides Senneth, Kirra, Tayse, and Cammon were their hosts and Sabina’s two sons. Tayse she had expected to remain mostly silent, but until she sat down to the table, Senneth hadn’t given any thought at all to Sabina’s children by Halchon Gisseltess.

  The youngest was perhaps twelve, with dark blond hair and his mother’s delicate features. He had some of Halchon’s height but none of his bulk; she supposed he would grow to be a supple, tall man with a certain grace of carriage. It was hard to tell what he was thinking. His eyes darted between the speakers and he seemed to listen intently to everything that was said, but he never once smiled or offered a comment of his own.

  The older boy was, she thought, about sixteen, and clearly bore the Gisseltess stamp. He was blocky, strongly built, with dark hair, broad features and a sullen air. He spent most of the time staring down at his plate, unless someone made an observation he disagreed with, and then he would give the speaker one quick, contemptuous look. Most of the time, this look was directed at Nate, occasionally at Sabina. But his eyes nearly burned through Senneth once when she made the offhand remark that Gisseltess was looking prosperous.

  “Prosperous enough,” Nate said, trying to keep the smug note from his voice. “There is still much rebuilding to do after that disastrous war. But we are making improvements.”

  The older boy gave Nate a hot look, then returned his attention to his plate. Senneth remembered now. Sabina had spoken with despair about her sons, how little they cared for her and how much they adored their father. Nate would not be anyone’s notion of an ideal stepfather, she supposed, but he would be even harder to love for a boy who had idolized the arrogant Halchon Gisseltess.

  She hoped neither boy realized that Tayse had been the one who sent their father to his death.

  “What of your serlords?” Kirra asked. “Has that transition gone smoothly?”

  Nate made an equivocating motion with his head. “Perhaps it could have gone better,” he allowed. “The serlords have taken it upon themselves to question every decision Sabina and I have made that would have any widespread impact. So, for instance, projects to repair certain roads have been delayed because they were not willing to approve the order in which we specified construction. Many of the other vassal lords are siding with them—not out of conviction, I’m afraid, but simply to prove their independence from the House. I fear that unless we all pull together on common initiatives, nothing will be done, and no one will be better off.”

  Cammon, who had been looking over his shoulder as if listening to a conversation behind him, now directed his attention at Nate. “What of Seton Mayman? Has he been a disruptive force?”

  Senneth couldn’t think who Seton Mayman was, but she had a horrifying suspicion that Amalie’s specter was hovering right behind Cammon, auditing this conversation. Kirra was watching him with a bright, inquisitive look, wondering how he had come up with that name. Fortunately Nate was not nearly as curious.

  “Seton? Well, when you passed him over for serlord, he was furious, no mistake about that,” Nate said. “I thought he might try to foment rebellion among the other lords, but instead he has decided to be obsequious to the House and to ally with Sabina and me, particularly when the serlords disagree with us. Sabina and I walk a very tricky line, for we want to accommodate many views, but we cannot cede all authority and still remain a strong House.”

  At that the oldest boy jumped to his feet. “You cannot keep Gisseltess a strong House! You can only destroy it!” he declared.

  “Warren!” his mother cried.

  “Of course the serlords flout you, and the vassals, too,” he continued, throwing his napkin to the table. “They hate you! Almost as much as I do!” He spun on his heel and ran from the room.

  Sabina’s hand was over her mouth in humiliation. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured, but Senneth wasn’t sure if she was addressing Nate or the rest of the table.

  Nate did not look particularly discomposed. “We have displays like that most every night,” he said. “I had hoped he would manage to behave with more maturity with a royal guest in the House, but I see my expectations were too high.”

  “He mourns his father and he has not reconciled himself to my remarriage,” Sabina said, dropping her hand and looking, for a moment, almost as sad as she had during the days when she was married to Halchon. “He does everything in his power to spite Nate—and Nate has been so patient with him. With both of them.”

  This caused Senneth, and everyone else at the table, to swing attention to the younger, fair-haired boy. Nate said, “Do you want to follow your brother out of the room? Just excuse yourself and you may go.”

  The boy’s eyes made a quick circuit around the table. He looked even more tightly strung now that his brother had created such a scene, but he seemed excited rather than angry. “I don’t want to go,” he said. “I like hearing all the talk.”

  Nate nodded. “Then you’re welcome to stay.”

  “Let’s return to the topic of discussion,” Senneth said, hoping to smooth things over.

  “As I was saying,” Nate resumed. “We spend much of our energy trying to strike a balance between fairness and strength.”

  Tayse spoke, for almost the first time. “Do you feel overmatched?” he asked. “Do you need royal soldiers in Gissel Plain to enforce your edicts?”

  Nate bristled. “Indeed, no, we are quite capable of working out our issues without interference from the crown,” he said. He glanced at Cammon. “Although—the strict limitations on the number of guards that can be deployed by the House does dilute any show of strength I might make.”

  Cammon glanced at Tayse, who remained expressionless. Then Cammon cocked his head, as if listening to someone whispering in his ear. Bright Mother burn me, Senneth thought, but Amalie’s comments were at least quick.

  “I don’t know that increasing your soldiery is the right message to send at just this time,” Cammon said. “But if you think I would be of any
use mediating disputes, I would be happy to meet with your vassals and serlords while I’m here.”