by Speer, Flora
“After so long,” Ultan murmured, awe and happiness filling his voice. “I have no words to describe what this moment means to me, or what the knowledge of the Emerald’s return will mean to the mages of Chandelar.”
“My lord,” Calia said, seeing how overcome he was by emotion and believing this was the best possible time to make her request of him, “now that I have fulfilled your charge to me, I beg you to hand the stone over to Durand and Garit. Allow them to carry it to King Henryk of Sapaudia, so he can send it to Domini Gundiac. Only thus can a terrible war be averted.
“I need not tell you of the long enmity between the Dominion and Sapaudia,” she continued. “I’ve been told that Gundiac is gravely ill; if he should die, his nobles will begin a contest for his title that will quickly become a bloody war. That war will spill over the border into Sapaudia, with great loss of life there. Please, my lord, send the Emerald back to Domini Gundiac.”
“I cannot,” Ultan said. “Gundiac is already dead and the contest of which you speak has begun.”
“Then Sapaudia is in grave danger,” Garit said, and Calia knew he was thinking of his grandmother and his brothers. “We must return to Saumar at once.”
“Have you forgotten the legend of the Emerald?” Ultan asked. “The Great Emerald, stolen from us so long ago, has been restored to its rightful place. Now peace will come to all the known world.”
“Can you be certain of that?” Garit demanded.
“I am perfectly certain that events will unfold exactly as they should.” Ultan smiled at him with serene benevolence, as if Garit ought to understand his cryptic words. “I have ordered guest rooms prepared for you. Rest this afternoon, and then join me and Lord Toren this evening. We will celebrate your arrival and then I will announce that you have brought the Emerald with you. I will also want the latest news of Laisren.”
“But, my lord,” Calia began, unwilling to let the matter rest. She could feel the tension that Garit was repressing. She was experiencing the same tension, for she, too, was concerned about the safety of Lady Elgida and Garit’s brothers.
“It’s all right, Calia,” Garit said, surprising her. To Ultan he added, “We thank you for your hospitality, my lord. Until this evening, then.”
Garit bowed to Ultan, then took Calia’s arm. Durand fell into step on her other side as they left the Great Mage’s audience chamber.
“Garit, I know you must be eager to be on your way to Sapaudia,” Calia began as soon as they were in the garden again.
“A day or two won’t make much difference,” Garit said. “It’s a long voyage from here to Port Moren. First, we have to find a ship and make arrangements.”
“Ultan owes all of us a reward,” Durand said. “Let’s see what he offers us. Speaking for myself, I would like a set of new clothes. I am not overly fond of being stuck with bits of straw from my tunic, or of finding pebbles in my boots.”
Finen was waiting to conduct them to guest chambers on the upper level of the palace.
When Calia reached her room she was delighted to find a maidservant whom she remembered from her first visit. The maid had a large tub filled with hot water waiting for her. Calia spent a long time washing with soap that was delicately scented with northern flowers. Through the tall, arched windows she could see beyond the palace walls to fields of grain that were no longer springtime green, but golden and ready for harvest. The leaves of trees also were beginning to turn to gold and orange. In Chandelar autumn came early.
After her bath and a nap Calia went down the wide staircase to Lord Toren’s reception chamber with her hair clean and cleverly arranged by the maidservant, and wearing a green silk gown that fit her perfectly.
They were not to use the great banqueting hall where they had feasted earlier in the year. Finen, who apparently was assigned to serve as her page during this visit, showed her to a smaller room where the walls were hung with embroidered tapestries and a fireplace blazed with logs as big as small trees. The windows were open, the winter shutters not yet secured over them, and a chilly evening breeze made the fire’s warmth welcome.
Toren was waiting for her. He was alone.
“My lord.” Calia made her curtsey. “I am happy to see you again.”
“Before the others arrive,” Toren said, flicking his fingers in an impatient gesture to indicate she should stand, “tell me about Laisren. I want to hear news of her from a woman’s tongue.”
A darkness lurked in Toren’s eyes and his mouth was harder than Calia remembered. Not that she knew him beyond the brief acquaintance of several months ago, but she could sense his unhappiness and the concern he tried to hide.
“Ultan has decreed that we are to recount our adventures, as he calls them, during the evening’s meal,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “If you want personal news of the queen, she is well, though when last I saw her, she was weary after expending much of her Power to save others from a great villain.”
“Yes,” Toren said. “She will always use her Power for good. Now tell me; is she happy?”
The question was so fierce that Calia felt assaulted by it. Startled, she looked deep into Toren’s eyes and thought she began to understand.
“Laisren is not at all happy,” she said, offering the truth as she knew it. “The same villain I just spoke of beat King Dyfrig until he was unconscious. The poor man had believed that Sir Mallory was his friend. The shock of that betrayal, added to his physical injuries, left Dyfrig unable to continue as king of Kantia. When my friends and I left Kerun City, Queen Laisren and the royal councilors were preparing to advise Dyfrig to abdicate in favor of his cousin, Lord Euric. Laisren did say that that as soon as Euric is crowned and Dyfrig is settled in a safe place, she intends to return to Tannaris. From the way she spoke, I believe you can expect to see her before winter settles in and makes the roads impassable.” The sound of a door opening warned Calia that others were arriving, so she said no more.
“Thank you.” Toren’s voice was too low for anyone but Calia to hear. “Laisren gave up much to travel to Kantia and marry Dyfrig. From what I saw of him during the marriage and coronation ceremonies six years ago, her sacrifice was not appreciated. But she was determined to do her father’s bidding, to serve him and the cause of peace between our countries.”
“I think you have made sacrifices in the same cause,” Calia said. She was not at all surprised by the sharp look of comprehension she received from Toren. He must have known she would probably meet Laisren while in Kantia, yet he had never suggested that Calia serve as a confidential messenger from him to the queen. Of course not. Toren was as honorable as Laisren and he, she recalled, was a married man.
Garit and Durand arrived just then, diverting her thoughts. They were clad in new clothes, Garit in blue and Durand in deep green, with their boots well-polished. Both appeared refreshed and ready for one of the excellent meals that Toren’s cook routinely provided.
The group seated around the trestle table in the small chamber numbered only six: Calia and her friends, Ultan and Toren, and Toren’s wife, Lady Zara, a pale, quiet woman, whom Calia suspected was included because otherwise she would be the only woman present. She noted the grave courtesy with which Toren treated her and wondered how deeply he cared for his wife.
While they ate, at Ultan’s direction Calia, Garit, and Durand took turns describing their voyage from Tannaris to Kinath, their difficulties there with Mallory, and the race to Kerun City before Mallory could arrive to spoil any chance of Belai and Kinen being given into Garit’s guardianship. The description of Mallory’s mistreatment of King Dyfrig, which Calia had heard from Laisren, and the battle on the dock to prevent Mallory from using his corrupt Power to harm the passengers aboard The Kantian Queen drew exclamations of disgust and anger from Ultan and Toren.
“Durand and I were prepared to try to stop Mallory,” Calia said, “though I question whether we could have succeeded against him. Laisren’s strength saved us and sent the ship out to sea
protected by a shield of Power.” She looked at Toren as she uttered the last sentence. The light she saw flaring in his eyes told her that Toren understood exactly what Laisren had done, and what it had cost her.
“She warned us that Mallory would recover his Power and come after us,” Calia went on, “which he did.”
She left the remainder of the story for Garit and Durand to tell, for she preferred not to speak of the use she had made of the Emerald. She wasn’t certain what Ultan’s reaction would be to that part of the story.
“But this dreadful Mallory is not dead?” Toren asked when they had finished the tale.
“He disappeared,” Garit admitted. “I was busy fighting three men at once. When I finished and looked around, Mallory was gone. I have no idea where he is now.”
“I think it’s time to send a large troop of men-at-arms into the hills to scour them clean of outlaws,” Toren said. “I doubt if the new king of Kantia will object if my men cross the border during their mission. Euric will approve of our purpose.”
“You won’t find Mallory there,” Ultan told him. “He will be as far away as he can possibly get.”
“Perhaps you ought to suggest that your men-at-arms question the outlaws,” Garit said, his face grim. “Mallory cannot be allowed to run free. As soon as he recovers his Power, he will come after Calia, to punish her.”
“I agree,” Toren said. “I doubt if Mallory’s near kinship to Calia will stop his quest for vengeance against her.”
“If the legend of the Emerald is true,” Garit said, “now that the jewel has been returned to its rightful place here in Chandelar, peace will spread across the known world. Perhaps that peace will even affect Mallory.”
“I wouldn’t wager my soul on that hope,” Ultan remarked with such wryness in his tone that they all looked at him in surprise. “The problem with ancient legends is that they are not always true. But now that the Emerald has come home, we shall see what we shall see.”
A short silence followed this statement, as if each person at the table was thinking about the possible effects of the legendary stone.
Garit spoke first, looking from Ultan to Toren to include both of them in his request. “My lords, we need a ship to carry us to Sapaudia. I want Calia far away from Mallory, and as soon as possible.”
“A wise thought,” Toren said.
“As it happens,” Ultan said, “a ship is expected here tomorrow that will leave Tannaris in a day or two and sail directly to Port Moren. Will that suit you?”
“Perfectly,” Garit said, “except for the pirates.”
“I do assure you,” Ultan said, “after what you and your companions have done for Chandelar, any ship carrying you will sail across the sea with no unpleasant interruptions from either pirates or foul weather. I will personally see to it.”
“Thank you, my lord.” Garit’s smile flashed.
Later that night Garit found Calia wandering in the garden.
“I am not tired any longer,” she told him. “In fact, I feel invigorated.”
“It must be Ultan’s doing,” Garit said. “I feel the same way, healthier and happier than I have been for years, and Durand claims his shoulder is completely recovered after a visit to Toren’s physician.
“Calia, I need to make a confession to you,” Garit continued, adding, “I wonder if that need is also Ultan’s doing.”
“Possibly. But you don’t have to tell me anything you’d rather not say.”
“You should hear this. I haven’t been completely honest with you.” He paused as if gathering his thoughts. “You know that Chantal was my first love.”
“Yes.” Calia dared say nothing more.
“I loved Chantal as only a very young man can love. When I knew she was dead and understood the full horror of who had ordered her death and why, the knowledge left me with a broken spirit and a frozen heart. Durand tried to help me by drawing me into his secret work for King Henryk, but it wasn’t enough. I sought death on the battlefield; I denied my responsibility to my brothers; I even decided most cold-bloodedly to court and wed you to get an heir for my lands in Sapaudia.
“Then my grandmother’s scheme to visit Kinath forced me to open my eyes to the world once more and to begin to live again. Still, I could not forgive Walderon for what he had done, or you for being his daughter. I hated you then, but only for a short time, until I realized that none of what happened more than three years ago is your fault. You didn’t know what your father was doing.
“I promise I will never blame you for anything your father did, or anything your brother has done. All that tragedy lies in the past.” He spoke with firm resolution. “I want to think about the present. I told you in Kerun City that I love you. I say it again now. I love you with all my heart and soul, as a man fully grown loves a woman. You, and no one else. Will you marry me?”
“Marry?” At first she wasn’t certain she’d heard him correctly. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. Completely. For the rest of my life and beyond.”
“Then, yes.” She lifted her face for his kiss. A long time later she asked rather breathlessly, “Do you think Ultan would agree to perform the ceremony? I don’t want to wait until we reach Sapaudia.”
“Agree?” Garit said with a chuckle. “I think Ultan would be insulted if we didn’t ask him. I suspect a grand wedding is part of his plan to reward us for returning the Emerald to him.”
The next morning Calia visited Toren’s wife, Lady Zara, in her creamy-white apartments. A white fur rug graced the stone floor, the relic of a hunt to the wastelands far north of Chandelar. Pale curtains blew in the breeze afforded by open windows. Crystalline vases filled with white flowers and green leaves stood about the room. Like Zara herself, the decor was pale, quiet and, Calia soon discovered, peaceful and serene. Perhaps Toren found his wife’s chambers a calm refuge after days spent dealing with affairs of state.
“I have come to ask a favor of you,” Calia said when they were settled on creamy, soft cushions.
“Of course,” Zara responded. “Ask anything you will.”
“Garit and I want to be married. He will speak to Ultan, and also to Toren, this morning. But, Lady Zara, you are the only woman I know in all of Chandelar, and I have nothing to wear for the ceremony! We brought no baggage from Kantia; even our saddlebags were lost on the way. Ultan provided the gown I’m wearing and it’s lovely, but it’s all I have.”
“Say no more.” Zara’s pale grey eyes began to sparkle. “I would be so honored to advise you. I know a shop that’s just a short distance from here....”
For the rest of that day Calia, whose recent concerns had been for treachery and Power, and the simple need to survive, found herself swept into a woman’s world that she had known existed but had never thought to enter.
With Zara, one of her serving women, and several pages to carry their purchases they all but plundered the shops of Tannaris for gowns, shoes, intimate undergarments, and cosmetics.
“Phew,” young Finen gasped late that afternoon as he unloaded packages in Zara’s sitting room. “I never knew ladies needed so much to make them look pretty. I thought you just looked that way naturally.”
“You have learned quite enough feminine secrets,” Zara told him. “Take yourself and your fellow pages to the kitchen and tell Cook I said to give you a grand treat.”
“Thank you, my lady,” the pages mumbled, heading for the door.
Scarcely were the boys gone than a knock sounded. When Zara called out to enter, Garit appeared.
“What is this?” he asked, waving a hand toward the packages the pages had dropped.
“You may not see these treasures just yet,” Zara told him with a knowing smile. “You must wait until after you are wed.”
“That won’t be long.” Garit looked at Calia. “Ultan has decreed that we will marry just before tonight’s feast.”
“Tonight?” Calia and Zara exclaimed in unison.
“The Great Mage is a
practical man,” Garit said. “The feast was planned to honor us for returning the Emerald, so he decided to use it for two purposes. I don’t mind, but if you would rather wait,” he said, looking at Calia.
“I have no objection.” Calia knew she was blushing.
“I have a surprise for you,” Garit told her. “A special guest for our wedding. The ship Ultan spoke of arrived this afternoon. It’s The Kantian Queen.”
“Captain Pyrsig is here?” Calia cried.
“You will scarcely recognize him,” Garit said with a chuckle. “He has trimmed his hair and shaved his beard. And purchased new clothes.”
“Really? I am honored.”
“Oh, it wasn’t done for you. Fenella is with him. I invited her to the wedding, too. Do you mind?”
“Not at all. Did Fenella leave her children with Lady Elgida?”
“So she says.” Garit was grinning. “I’m grateful I wasn’t there to hear my grandmother’s remarks when Fenella revealed what she was planning. I gather my stepmother cannot long survive without a man’s attentions. Fortunately, Pyrsig is strong and healthy.”
“Lord Garit,” Zara interrupted, “you must leave my rooms at once. Calia and I have much to do. Go and bathe yourself. Visit the palace barber. Buy your own new suit of clothes. I will escort Calia to you at the time for your wedding ceremony.”
To Calia’s amusement the quiet, pale lady began to push Garit toward the door.
“Can’t I even kiss her?” Garit protested.
“Later.” Laughing merrily, Zara shoved him through the doorway.
“Now,” Zara said to Calia, “first a scented bath, I think. Do you want this Fenella person to join us? I can send for her.”
“Thank you, but no. I would rather have just you and your maidservant help me to prepare.”
