Derian's traveling group reached the vicinity of Eagle's Nest, the capital city of Hawk Haven, midmorning on the ninth day of their journey. They could have pressed on the night before, but heavy rains and the knowledge that the gates would be locked when they arrived made them hold back.
Once they were in sight of the city, Derian broke from the rest, wheeling Roanne, his chestnut mare, toward the city's east side. Prancing Steed Stables, his family's business, was located outside of the east wall and when Derian reined Roanne in under the sign that bore her painted image, he felt as if he was home again.
To Derian's slight disappointment, Colby Carter, his father, was not present at the stables when Derian arrived, nor was Brock, Derian's younger brother. Old Toad, retired from heavy work but still working for the Carter family both at home and at the stables, greeted Derian as warmly as his own grandfather might have done. He took charge of Roanne for Derian, promising to have the mare stabled.
"Actually, Toad," Derian said, burrowing through his saddlebags for the clean though wrinkled clothes he'd put in last night just for this purpose, "if you'll give Roanne over to someone trustworthy, I'll ask you to go up to my parents' house and tell them I'm home. My bags will be coming with one of Kestrel's men, but I've an errand to run for Earl Kestrel before I go to the house."
Old Toad looked at Derian slyly, obviously hoping the youth would say more. It was a matter of great pride for all those associated with the Carters that the heir to the house was so intimate with nobles and even with royalty. Derian, however, said nothing more, and Toad decided to prime his pump with a bit of gossip.
"It's said that the wolf-girl, Lady Blysse, has been seen about the castle these two days since," Toad offered. "Her and her wolf both."
Derian grinned.
"Lady Blysse made her own way here," he said, giving nothing much away. "Not many horses can tolerate Blind Seer close by and she wouldn't leave him behind in the North Woods."
Toad had to be content with this scrap and with the cheerful importance of bringing the news of Derian's homecoming to his family. They set off together, parting when Derian's path took him toward the quarter where House Kestrel maintained its manse.
Derian changed his route as soon as Toad was out of sight, heading straight through the city and up to the heights where Eagle's Nest Castle brooded over her chicks. He'd pulled a knit cap over his red hair and kept from those streets where chance-met acquaintances might recognize him. Happily, it wasn't a market day, so this was easily enough done.
Derian knew he might be being overcautious, but if Firekeeper's arrival was already common gossipùor at least stable gossip, for the stables seemed to get news before anyone elseùthen he didn't want to add grist to those active mills. The news that Derian Carter, newly made counselor to the king, had rushed to the castle even before going to his parents' house might indeed prove interesting.
And then maybe I'm just getting an inflated ego, Derian thought wryly, but he knew in his heart he was not. He might associate with nobility, but he was common-born and common-bred, and he knew how the least scrap of information was patched into a quilt that covered all the factsùthough not always correctly.
The porter on duty proved to be one of those Derian had come to know the year before when Derian had stayed at the castle as part of Earl Kestrel's retinue. He swung open the wrought-iron gate with a grin.
"I was told to keep an eye out for you," the porter said, "though I'd hardly need to be told that once Lady Blysse showed here. She makes the guards edgy she does, slipping both herself and that huge wolf in without any the wiser. The watch captain gave his men the sharp edge of his tongue, he did."
Derian shook his head ruefully.
"And Firekeeper knows well enough that the gate would be opened to her. She just likes causing trouble."
"Show me a chit of a lass," the porter said, closing and locking the gate once more, "or a lad either, who doesn't get joy out of making her elders look foolish."
Derian agreed, thanking the porter for his news before crossing the interior courtyard. He'd met people in the countryside who thought that a castle was just a big fortified building inside a wall. Realistically, a castle was more like a small town. This one had its own bakeries, stables, gardens, smithies, carpenter shops, and all the rest. The stone buildings held quarters not only for the king and his immediate family, but for the legion of aides, servants, advisors, and the like needed to keep the castle in efficient order.
True, much of the staff lived in the city and came up the hill to work, but in a pinch gates like those the porter manned could be sealed and the life of the castle could go onùfor a while at leastùindependent of the city below.
Further, Eagle's Nest Castle was legendary for its security. Songs were still sung and stories told about how Zorana Shield, later to become Queen Zorana the First, had infiltrated the castle, cementing her faction's power during the Civil War. It was no wonder that the watch captain had been furious to have his walls and guards so easily circumvented.
But then no normal army, nor even any normal spy could do what Firekeeper does, Derian thought. She climbs like a squirrel, silences guard dogs with a threat, and this all in a silence that makes the blowing of leaves in the wind seem loud.
Once inside the castle, Derian made his way to the king's audience hall. The herald to whom Derian gave his name was a stranger, but she didn't ask to be shown the counselor's ring or any other form of identification.
"You are expected," she said. "I'll send a message in to His Majesty's secretary, Lady Farand, and I am certain that the king will see you as soon as he finishes with his current meeting."
"That quickly?" Derian replied, surprised.
"The king said he was to be interrupted in the course of his usual appointments," the herald explained, "the moment you arrived. You were to be offered refreshments while you waited."
Derian nodded.
"Will there be a long wait?" he asked. "Because I can just run down to the kitchens myself. No need to bother anyone."
The herald looked a touch startled at his lack of formality.
"If that is your wish," she said. "A runner can be sent for you there as easily as to the kitchen to bring you a tray."
Derian nodded and went. The truth was he didn't want to stand fidgeting in a foyer. Fetching his own bread and beer would be a distraction.
He was finishing up the good-sized meal of cold meats, cheese, and sundry other dainties that a friendly cook had brought him, when a runner came from the herald.
"The king will see you," the boy announced, sliding across the polished stone flags of the kitchen floor and deftly snatching a chunk of cheese from under Derian's fingers.
Derian rose and headed out, nodding his thanks to the cook. She waved her free handùthe other was pinched tightly around the lobe of the runner's earùand the rest of her attention was given to scolding the boy.
Running up the stone stairs two at a time, mortified that he might have kept the king waiting, Derian was relieved to find the herald standing watch before the still closed doors of the king's chamber, but she stepped aside as he came up.
"His Majesty sent a message out to me," the herald said. "His current meeting will be over momentarily. Did you happen to see Lady Blysse in the kitchen?"
Derian shook his head.
"His Majesty requested her presence as well," the herald said with a sigh. "I just hope the runners I sent can find her."
"Did you send one to Holly Gardener's cottage?" Derian suggested.
"And to the gardens," the herald confirmed, her slight, wry smile showing that this wasn't the first time she'd been asked to locate the wolf-woman, "even though for most people today's weather would be excuse enough to stay in by the fire."
"So Firekeeper might have done," Derian said. "She's seen enough bad weather to appreciate comfort."
But Firekeeper hadn't been located when the doors swung outward and those who had been meeting with the k
ing streamed out, arms loaded with books and papers, most still chattering about whatever matter had been under discussion. A few noticed the tall red-haired youth standing to one side, but Derian had practiced effacing himself, and most overlooked him.
"Go on in," the herald said. "The king said I need not bother to announce you."
She looked neither scandalized nor puzzled by this informality and Derian decided that whatever training the castle's heralds received must include a high amount of tolerance for their aging monarch's eccentricities.
To his slight surprise, when Derian entered the conference room, he found it empty but for a single uniformed guard. He recognized him at once as Sir Dirkin Eastbranch, captain of the king's personal guard. Sir Dirkin was a tall man whose square chin and high cheekbones seemed chiseled from his weathered brown skin.
"King Tedric," Sir Dirkin said without preamble, "has requested that you wait upon him in his sitting room."
His studiously calm expression broke into a smile so slight Derian might have overlooked it if he hadn't come to know the man somewhat the summer before.
"The last meeting ran overlong," Dirkin continued, "and the king is weaned of hard chairs and tables."
Derian offered Sir Dirkin a bow.
"It's good to see you, Sir Dirkin. Have you wintered well?"
"Well enough. The cold months have flown by, to be honest, with Princess Sapphire and Prince Shad in residence. There has been much going on."
Derian didn't doubt it. The sporadic letters that residents of the Norwood estate had received from friends and family in the capital city had been filled with accounts of balls, receptions, and less formal social occasionsùenough so that Lady Luella, Earl Kestrel's wife, had been quite put out that she and her children were isolated in the North Woods. Accounts of how she had scolded her husband had quite livened the servants' hall.
Earl Kestrel had not given in before Lady Luella's fury, even though House Kestrel maintained a residence in the capital that could easily have been made ready for them. Doubtless he felt that he had earned enough reputation for his house over the previous summerùand all his children but for Edlin, and perhaps Firekeeper, were too young for him to seriously be playing matchmaker. Even if they had been, it would not have mattered. Norvin Norwood was not one of those who believed that marrying off children was the best way to build social status.
If he had been, Derian thought, we never would have gone west a year ago, nor would Earl Kestrel have risked his life leading cavalry in King Allister's War.
These thoughts flew through Derian's mind as he followed Sir Dirkin through the conference room and along a minor maze of passages until they came to the king's winter sitting room.
Derian had never been here beforeùin the summer the south-facing windows would have made the room stifling. In winter, however, they added a pleasant glow of sunlight to the warmth from the fire blazing on the hearth.
When Derian entered, the king was sitting in one of the high-backed chairs nearest to the blaze. King Tedric was a bent man, well into his eighth decade. His brown eyes might have paled with the years, but their gaze remained sharp and he studied Derian as the youth made his bow.
Without rising, he motioned Derian to a chair facing his own, acknowledging the youth's deep bow with a friendly nod.
"Pull the chair back from the fire, if you wish," the king said. "Your blood is still thick and hot, not thinned to whey like mine."
Derian took King Tedric's advice. The room seemed overly hot, even when he pulled his chair away from the blaze. In any case, he had learned that King Tedric, unlike some of the other nobles Derian had met, saved his subtle games for serious matters, not wasting his energy on little matters of etiquette and precedence.
Unless, that is, Derian thought wryly, he can use those games to set some adversary off balance.
"I've asked," King Tedric went on, "Firekeeper, and my heirs to join us. Queen Elexa would do so as well, but she's resting. Caught a bad chill this winter. It settled in her chest and she's having trouble shaking it."
Derian murmured his concern. It was sincerely felt, though he hardly knew Queen Elexa. All his life and long before that Elexa Wellward had been Tedric's reliable other self, ruling in his stead whenùas last summerùthe king had been forced to be away from the capital. Her health had never been sturdy, however, and Derian worried that this illness might be the beginning of a serious downturn. Elexa was younger than her husband, but both were well past the age when the body recovers easily.
King Tedric doubtless read more into Derian's expression than into his polite words.
"Elexa is doing well enough," he said, "though we did have a scare a few weeks ago when we were both down ill. There's no keeping rumors from spreading, not with as many servants as we have, but we've managed to keep the locals from thinking that it might be a good idea to lay in a few extra yards of fabric for mourning garb."
Derian nodded. "I won't say anything that would cause alarm, Sire."
"I know you won't," King Tedric said, a touch testily. "If you were a jabbermouth, I wouldn't have given you my ring. You've become even closer with your confidences since, if I'm any judgeùand I am. Doubtless your activities last winter didn't hurt your training in discretion. Tell me about them while we wait for the others. I've had formal reports from all sides, but another personal report doesn't ever hurt."
Derian did as requested, summarizing the events that had led himself, Firekeeper, and several others to suspect Lady Melina Shield of plotting treachery, so that they had followed her across the border into New Kelvin.
He'd told the tale repeatedly by now, editing where appropriate for each audience, so that he had become quite glib. For the king, Derian minimized the details of the journey itself, emphasizing the political aspects. King Tedric nodded, asked an occasional question, but mostly listened.
At first Derian expected the others that the king had mentioned to arrive at any moment, but after a while he realized that the king must have allowed for a private interview in advance. Doubtless this taleùrequested so casually, as if to fill an idle momentùwas the reason. Derian found part of his mmd wondering why, but after he stumbled in his account several times, he forced this distraction from him.
King Tedric waved Derian to a halt as Derian segued from their adven-tures in New Kelvin to what had happened after they had returned to Hawk Haven.
"I've heard those stories," he said with a sigh, "over and over, set to song, even acted out in a playùif you can believe it. Everyone in Eagle's Nest seems determined to natter my heirs by praising their heroism."
"I wonder if it's gone to their heads?" Derian thought, then clapped his hand over his lips as he realized he'd spoken aloud.
King Tedric chortled at Derian's expression.
"Sapphire might be tempted that way," the king said, "but two things keep her steady. Three, actually, for her young husband is no fool."
The king looked suddenly sad.
"No. Shad is not a fool," he said, "but it looks as if Sapphire's sister, young Citrine, might have become one. Citrine's mind was weakened by what she endured when she was taken to the Smuggler's Light. Her mother's abandonment threw the scales of reason completely off balance and Citrine has grown worse, not better, since her release."
"Initially, Jet Shield had Citrine's custodyùhe's the oldest of the family. He has inherited since I declared Melina outlawedùbut Citrine worsened under his care. Sapphire requested that she be permitted to bring Citrine here to the castle, saying that she could not easily forget her youngest sister, though by law they are now no longer anything but cousins."
Derian nodded. He tried to think how he would feel if for some unknown reason he was adopted out of his birth family and knew that there would be no way that he would feel that Damita and Brock were any less his siblings.
Nor, he thought, would my parents seem any less my parents, not even if the king himself made me his son.
Derian felt uncomfor
table at this last thought, then soothed himself by remembering that Sapphire had grown to hate Melina long before the reputed sorceress had connived at theft and treason for her own mysterious ends. Surely the crown princess didn't think fondly of Melinaùespecially after what Melina had allowed to be done to Citrine.
At least he hoped she didn't.
The focus of Derian's musings entered the king's sitting room shortly thereafter. Crown Princess Sapphireùformerly Sapphire Shieldùwas a buxom young woman in her mid-twenties. Her pointed chin robbed her of classic beauty, but most were willing to overlook that defect in light of her lustrous blue-black hair, clear blue eyes, and graceful bearing. It didn't hurt that she knew how to dress to make the best of her assetsùMelina had been a good mother in that matter at least.
Sapphire's husband, Crown Prince Shad, entered the king's sitting room with his wife. Shad wasn't as physically striking as Sapphire. Fair, with rounded lines that he had inherited from his mother, a noblewoman of Bright Bay's Great House Oyster, Shad was far more serious than someone in his early twenties should be, but then he'd trained at sea, fought in several major battles within the last year, and now was taking on the challenge of an arranged marriage with a very strong-willed woman.
Derianùhis thoughts still fixed on family relationshipsùwondered how Shad felt about being away from his parents and siblings. He'd seemed particularly close to his father, the recently coronated King Allister of Bright Bay, but his relationship with his brother, Tavis, and twin sisters, Minnow and Anemone, had seemed free and easy, more like relationships in Derian's own family than what he'd observed in those noble families he'd been close enough to observe.
Maybe it's because Shad's siblings didn't really have prospects to compete over, Derian thought. And maybe Shad's doing all right, here in an alien land. Those Bright Bay families can't feel the same about proximity as we do. They're always going off on sea voyages and things like that.
The Dragon of Despair Page 3
