Wolf's Head, Wolf's Heart

by Jane Lindskold

  "I say!" exclaimed Lord Kestrel. "I can see that. My father had left me back to manage the old estates while he went off to war, but let me tell you that when I heard the gossip, I was pretty eager to get a squint at the witch myself. I mean, I'd known her since I was a kid, and we'd scared ourselves silly with stories about the things she probably did, but now we knew."

  He glanced around, noticed the barely concealed impatience on the faces around him, and stopped.

  "Sorry 'bout that, just wanted you to know I understood."

  Peace gave the young lord his most gracious smile.

  "Yes, that was kind of you, Lord Kestrel. You must understand that to us there is no stigma attached to practicing magic. We admire it. You may have been frightened by those stories. We were fascinated—a fascination that may have led us to behave unwisely."

  He coughed slightly. At this, Wendee Jay leapt to her feet.

  "We've forgotten to offer you anything to drink. Go on with your story. I've the kettle on the hob and can put some tea together in no time. Don't worry about me. I'll catch on pretty quick."

  She darted from the room so rapidly that Peace was surprised. Then he realized that Goody Wendee was probably fleeing him—his avowed interest in magic must make him seem as repulsive to these people as would an interest in torture. The other five held their ground, however, nor did they seek to stop him from speaking, so Peace went on.

  "We felt fairly certain that Lady Melina had arranged for Queen Valora to think of her when a sorceress was needed. Most likely, she simply sent another of those anonymous letters. However, she might have simply trusted to her reputation. I understand that upon her return from the war people hissed at her in the streets, that she was so shunned in some quarters that she finally retired to her family holdings."

  Lord Kestrel nodded. "I say, that's true of the city folk in Eagle's Nest, at least. My mother told me something about that, you know. Mother thought how the lady was treated a disgrace, herself, and went out of her way to make Lady Melina feel welcome."

  "In any case," Peace said when the others had glowered Lord Kestrel into silence, "we were inclined to welcome Lady Melina. She, however, had more than simple welcome in mind. Out of what she presented as simple national loyalty to Hawk Haven, she expressed a reluctance to have any of those artifacts returned to Queen Valora, for Queen Valora would certainly turn them against both Hawk Haven and Bright Bay.

  "Lady Melina continued beyond this mere statement of patriotism, stating that she would help us eliminate Ambassador Endbrook and obtain the artifacts. Although she was willing to help with this, she did request that we give to her what had already been promised by Queen Valora: that is, one of the three artifacts for her own.

  "Lady Melina's plan was neatly arranged: simple and direct. I must admit that we might even have worked some similar ruse ourselves. Queen Valora, you see, overestimated the esteem in which New Kelvin holds her. She seems rather blinded by her own passions—her rage at those who had exiled her, her need to have more power at her control. We are not. Moreover, Queen Valora had taken measures to secure Lady Melina as her faithful ally, so she had even less reason to fear treachery."

  Peace noted that Derian Carter looked quite worried at these words.

  "You have a question, young sir?"

  "No. Don't let me interrupt."

  Peace raised an eyebrow, but continued.

  "I myself was sent to bring Lady Melina to Dragon's Breath. I speak your language well and could be more easily spared than my diplomatic colleague, whose talents were needed elsewhere. We made our move against Baron Endbrook. He was swifter to sense danger than we had believed he would be. He managed to flee, but in his bid to save his life he was forced to abandon the artifacts. The night into which he fled was winter-cold and snowy. Although several days' searching did not turn up his body, at the time we believed him dead."

  Lady Elise repeated softly, "At the time… I must say, Duke Peace, your story gets more interesting all the time."

  Grateful Peace actually had to suppress a grin. He was beginning to like these young people. They possessed such an interesting mixture of wisdom—or at least the diplomatic equivalent of street smarts—and innocence.

  He transformed his grin into a kindly smile.

  "I am pleased that you find it so, Your Ladyship, and, please, there is no need to title me 'duke.' "

  Elise frowned slightly. "I apologize if I demoted you, sir. My language teacher told me that 'duke' was the equivalent of your title."

  "In some ways," Peace agreed, "it might be so, but unlike a duke I do not hold my position for life, only at the pleasure of the Dragon Speaker, and even the Dragon Speaker holds his title only at the pleasure of the Primes."

  "Confusing," Lady Elise said, "but clearly this is not the time to discuss fine points of linguistics."

  "No," Peace said, permitting a touch of sorrow to shade his tone. "I fear not. As I was saying, we thought Baron Endbrook dead. Indeed the majority of my colleagues have not been enlightened as to my belief that he yet lives. You see, the manner of my learning was such that I do not care to have the information spread about where the wrong ears might hear it."

  Wendee Jay returned with a pot of tea and tray of cups. While she poured, Peace resumed his tale—for it was a tale, rather than a report. In a good report a watcher did not slant the facts. Here, however, Peace was not functioning as a watcher, and he felt it his right to slant the facts for their best effect.

  He'd been careful not to make his own people seem too noble, too generous of spirit. Lord Kestrel might have been fooled by such high-flown rhetoric, but from the start Peace had doubted that either Derian Carter or Sir Jared would be. Now he added Lady Elise to his list of those who understood rather more than one would expect.

  "I escorted Lady Melina and the three artifacts to Dragon's Breath. Initially, Apheros—that is the current Dragon Speaker—was inclined to treat Lady Melina with some disdain. However, somehow—and I firmly believe sorcery was at work—she insinuated herself into his inner circle with amazing ease. She also won the trust and favor of the Healed One—our hereditary monarch—apparently in the course of one evening. I cannot say how she did this, for the visit was relatively private and I was not among the guests.

  "Since then," Grateful Peace continued, "Lady Melina has moved from barely tolerated foreign guest to a leader among those who are working to unlock the secrets of the artifacts. Her influence is subtle rather than direct, but I am a watcher of long standing and I see the pattern which is developing. My fear is if she can achieve so much in a period of time hardly greater than half a moonspan, what will she have managed in a full moon or in two or three? As events stand now, Lady Melina is not likely to be asked to leave until all three of the artifacts have been awakened. Only one has begun to reveal its secrets. Much time may pass before the others do the same."

  Grateful Peace pressed his palms together and bent his head, staring at his own dark-painted reflection in the polished tabletop. With all his might, he sought to create the impression of a man so far gone in fear that he would attempt anything.

  It wasn't hard. After his conversation with Xarxius, he was afraid.

  A rough, slightly husky voice broke his act.

  "What are the things?" it said. "These three artifacts. What are they? How big are they? Can they be carried away?"

  Grateful Peace raised his head and found that the speaker was Lady Blysse. She still perched on the edge of the table, but there was a tightness about her—a tightness akin to a drawn bowstring or a coiled snake.

  Peace answered carefully. "They are fairly small: a ring, a comb, and a mirror—a hand mirror with a carved ivory frame and a face of polished silver, such as a fine lady might keep on her dressing table."

  "I want them," Lady Blysse said, her dark eyes meeting his and holding them.

  Peace felt the challenge in that gaze and met it with his own. He held her eyes with his own as he spoke, but the you
ng woman—hardly more than a girl, he realized—never wavered.

  "You can have them," he agreed evenly. "I, personally, no longer want them. Others among my people may disagree."

  "What you want, then, if not artifacts?" Lady Blysse asked.

  Peace let his gaze drop, trying to make it seem as if he was just searching for his teacup, but he had a feeling that Lady Blysse was not fooled in the least.

  "I want Lady Melina gone from New Kelvin," he declared, raising the cup. "Take her from my country, alive or dead. I don't care which, but take her away. I believe she has ambitions here—perhaps even extending to rulership. I believe she has ensorcelled my leader and my king. Once I thought sorcery was the answer to all problems. Now I see differently. In Lady Melina's hands, magical power may bring destruction to all I hold dear. Take her away!"

  He let his voice drop.

  "Or kill her."

  The reply that came seemed unaffected by his declaration. It was simply two pragmatic words from Lady Blysse.

  "You help?"

  This was not quite what he had hoped for, but it was sufficient. Grateful Peace nodded and sipped his tea. It was quite good, a local blend with a faint taste of new-mown hay and the sweetness of wildflowers.

  "I will," he said, "but I do not want my role to be known. Depending on the nature of her control, even when Lady Melina is gone there may be some who will resent those who ousted her. That is why I would prefer foreign agents—agents who can be believed to have acted for their own motives. If you remove her, in turn, I will help you acquire the artifacts. I am no longer so certain I want foreign magic active within New Kelvin."

  Derian Carter, who had risen to get his own tea, now spoke.

  "Wait a bit," the redhead said, still standing, one callused hand holding the cup, the other tracing the pattern of the wood grain in the tabletop. "Firekeeper, we've gotten ahead of ourselves again."

  Lady Blysse growled ever so softly.

  "Not for me," she said. "This is what I want."

  Derian held his ground. Grateful Peace was impressed, but then maybe the young man was used to growling from this strange feral creature.

  Derian wagged a finger at her.

  "Mice want the cheese," he said softly. "Think about that."

  Lady Blysse scowled, but said nothing more.

  Derian Carter turned to Peace.

  "This is fascinating," he said bluntly. "You come offering to help us steal what—frankly—your people were prepared to do murder and even risk war to steal in the first place. All you want is the removal of one woman who, it seems to me, you could dispose of yourself. There's more here than meets the eye. I want to see the rest before we commit ourselves."

  Peace nodded. "That is only reasonable. I am willing to talk further, to answer any question you ask."

  "Any of you have questions?" Derian asked.

  "One in particular," Sir Jared replied. "What makes our honored guest think Lady Melina won't return home of her own accord when the work on these artifacts is complete? Even if you decide to break your agreement with her and keep all three artifacts for yourself, she cannot complain without ruining her reputation beyond repair. Even her brother the duke is likely to publicly disown her if she makes it known she has been practicing magic. Queen Valora would probably spend half her treasury to avenge the betrayal."

  "Are those alone not reason enough for her to not wish to return to Hawk Haven?" Peace asked.

  "Maybe," Sir Jared agreed. "But Lady Melina need not say where she has been. Even if someone ratted on her, she could simply look pathetic and claim that someone seeks to harm the Princess Sapphire by slandering her mother."

  "Are not the princess and her mother estranged?"

  "They are, but that doesn't mean that anyone's forgotten the relationship. Sapphire doesn't wish to disown her sisters and brother…"

  Peace caught a flicker of distaste pass over Lady Elise's features at Sir Jared's mention of this brother and made a note to ask Xarxius what history might lie between them.

  "… And so she must remain in contact with Lady Melina, for Lady Melina is head of that household and will continue so until her death."

  "And Queen Valora's vengeance?"

  Sir Jared shrugged. "Queen Valora may be pretty peeved, there's no question of that, but is she willing to risk her very shaky truce with Hawk Haven and Bright Bay over it? Would her people even support her? Most of them share our heritage and with it our distaste for those who would practice magic. If Queen Valora makes a public issue of why she hates Lady Melina, then her own desire to use sorcery will probably become public. I'd guess Lady Melina would make certain that it did. With that excuse, Stonehold would probably support an effort to retake the Isles. Waterland, too."

  From the mildly surprised expressions on one or two of the faces around the table, Peace deduced that the healer was not usually given to such long speeches. He factored that—and the passion it implied—into how he framed his own reply.

  "So you think that, even with the enemies she has made, Lady Melina could return to Hawk Haven?"

  "I do. The question is, what is it you know that makes you so certain she isn't planning to do so?"

  With a show of reluctance, Grateful Peace cleared his throat.

  "There was something I saw. I alone was witness, but I swear to you by the bones of the first Healed One that I am telling the truth."

  Even Lady Blysse was listening now, her pique put aside for the moment.

  "I have mentioned to you that when Lady Melina first arrived in Dragon's Breath, Apheros wanted no special honors shown to her?"

  "You said something of that," Derian Carter agreed.

  "He was actually rather rude," Peace went on almost apologetically. "Lady Melina was refused personal servants and was quartered in rooms we keep for guests. These rooms…"

  He paused, as if he was about to give away a great secret. Actually, he was fairly certain that most of those "guests" who were invited to stay within the Earth Spires probably suspected that they were spied upon. Uneasily, he wondered if Lady Melina had as well. If she did, that made her action not merely a private declaration of intent but a challenge.

  All this flashed through his mind even as his lips continued to move.

  "These rooms," Peace repeated, "have been specially prepared so that little that goes on within them cannot be seen or, at the very least, heard. Lady Melina was given one of the best—one that offers no privacy at all to the dweller.

  "I went frequently to watch her. Watching, you see, is my… There is no precise word for it in your language—'job' or 'profession' comes close, but so does 'vocation' and so, in a little sense, does 'honor' or 'rank.' "

  He shrugged. "I am the watcher for the Dragon Speaker—the Dragon's Eye. It is an old and honored position, one that predates the current kingdom and goes back to the Founders' time. It is my job to see what the Speaker cannot see, to sit where he cannot sit, to note what he cannot note, to draw conclusions that he is in no position to make. As watcher, I know all the hidden ways through the Earth Spires—if anyone does, that is, but their builders.

  "I was fascinated with our foreign guest—all the more so in that she seemed to lose interest in me soon after her arrival. I think it was my good fortune to have her underestimate the importance of a watcher. Like Lady Elise, she may have made a study of our land, but such a post does not get put into history books."

  Elise nodded agreement. "It's the first I've ever heard of it. I don't think we even have an equivalent unless you count scouts in time of war."

  Peace noted Lady Blysse's expression of impatience and returned to the matter at hand. In any case, he had no wish to diminish the mood he had been so carefully building.

  "Four days past, as I was watching, a messenger came to Lady Melina bearing a package. The package contained a box—a box sealed with the seal of Waln Endbrook, the baron of the Isles whom I had believed dead. The box contained four things: a gemstone, a lock of hai
r, and what I later realized were two freshly cut fingers from the hand of a child."

  He paused, listening for expressions of horror. The perfect silence that greeted him was even better.

  "The gemstone was the color of a fine brandy, reddish gold in hue. Lady Melina inspected it and the lock of hair—which was nearly the same color—then turned her attention to the fingers. She looked at these for a long moment, then consigned them and the lock of hair to the fire. When these were ash, she returned to her book. The gemstone was put in her jewel box. Later, I arranged to have it checked by a lapidary. It was a citrine."

  "Citrine!" Lord Kestrel was the only one to find his voice. "I say, doesn't Lady Melina have a daughter named Citrine?"

  "She does," Derian said, and his voice trembled with either grief or rage. "A daughter she took away when she left Eagle's Nest with Baron Endbrook, a daughter whose location we do not know."

  Lady Blysse cried out as if in physical pain and sprang to her feet.

  "You said, Derian, you said you thought Lady Melina might have given Citrine as…" She lost the word and stammered in frustration, "As Blind Seer is to me. Did she give her for nothing?"

  Derian nodded. "That's what the man is telling us, Firekeeper. That Baron Endbrook thought he could trust Lady Melina to play fair with him because he had her daughter. When he got away, he sent a message reminding her. My guess is he expected her to send some word that she was willing to work with him again."

  The redhead had been speaking in carefully measured phrases, as if he did not trust himself to think too closely about what he was saying.

  "And," Derian continued, turning to Peace, "you're telling us that she did nothing but burn the fingers?"

  Peace nodded solemnly, though inwardly he was rejoicing. He had hoped the news would have some effect, but he had hardly hoped for this level of fury. Indeed, he'd need to take care that the fury did not boil over or that in their anger they did not leave Dragon's Breath with the task for which he needed them undone.