Elise couldn't bear it. She knelt and squashed Citrine to her, glowering up at Doc.
"How can you be so cold! The child has suffered so much!"
"And is likely to suffer more," Doc said, pouring fruit juice into three glasses, "unless she accepts that all this sobbing and whining and making people feel guilty and miserable on her behalf isn't going to change a thing."
With Citrine pressed against her, Elise felt the girl tense, then push away from her comforting embrace. The nine-year-old looked up at Doc and stamped her foot angrily.
"What do you know?" she said cruelly. "Your parents are still alive. You just came from seeing them. Your biggest sister isn't someone else's family now. Your brother isn't all taken with being an almost lord. Your other sisters haven't left you and run off to a foreign court!"
"No," Doc replied. "That's true. In fact, I doubt there's anyone else in the entire world who shares exactly your burden. Does that make you so special?"
Citrine pouted with her lower lip outthrust. She didn't reply, so Doc went on.
"You can't change any of those things. No matter how you fuss, your father will not return from the dead. Ruby and Opal will still be in Bright Bay. Sapphire will still be crown princess.
"Your mother is another matter. I notice you didn't include her in your lament of woes. Or is it you like to think of her as dead? I have news for you, Citrine Shield, Melina isn't dead. She is an exile by her own will. She abandoned you. She knew what Baron Endbrook had done to you and didn't come to your rescue."
"My mama is a queen," Citrine replied with perverse pride.
"Is she?" Doc shrugged. "That's one of the things we are going to New Kelvin to learn."
"She married a king!" Citrine protested.
"Is that excuse enough for what she did to you?" Doc asked. "Is that why you still wear so proudly the stone she put on you? Do you think that she'll have you back? Maybe that she'll make you a princess as King Tedric has made Sapphire a princess?"
Citrine said nothing, but there was a fierce, guarded look in her eyes that reminded Elise of when a falcon was prepared to bolt to freedom, to refuse the fowler's glove.
Elise held her breath, wondering if Doc was close to the truth. Certainly, at least in her hearing, no one had spoken so harshly to the child, no one had done anything but offer her pity and sympathy.
The silence stretched, became impenetrable, but this time Citrine was clearly willing it. There was no emptiness behind the girl's eyes. She was refusing to reply, trembling with the effort. Doc studied her for a moment more, then offered Elise the tray holding the chilled juice.
"Lady Archer?" he queried and, after Elise had accepted the tall glass nearest her, he offered one to Citrine, "Mistress Citrine?"
His emphasis, ever so slight on the courtesy title with its denial of any nobility at all, was too much for the girl. With a shrill, almost soundless, shriek she dashed from the room, slamming the heavy door behind her. Elise made as if to follow, but Doc restrained her with a hand on her arm.
"Let her go," he said. "She can't do herself any more harm than has been done already."
"She might injure herselfùjump from a window or something."
"She won't," Doc said, letting his hand drop, "or if she does, she will make certain that what harm she does to herself is treatable, though I, for one, would be tempted to refuse my aid."
Elise's eyes widened in shock, and Doc laughed dryly.
"Not really, but Citrine is clever enough to calculate my presence and my talent into her actions."
Elise sipped from her juice, taking the moment to think how to phrase her question.
"You were so harsh with her."
"Everything else had been tried," Doc said. "You must remember, I saw her this winter. I saw how she was coddled and pitied. Such indulgence would turn the head of a much less wronged child."
"Then you do think Citrine has suffered?" Elise asked, obscurely relieved.
"I do, but we all suffer. Sometimes I think the pity we offer a suffering child is really the pity we wish someone would lavish on us when we're hurt. Not every child who loses a father receives such attention. Many a widow or widower has remarried, leaving his or her children to wonder just where they fit into the new family."
"But not under quite such spectacular circumstances!" Elise protested.
Doc grinned.
"No, but I'm not sure Citrine would have been so aware of how spectacular the circumstances were if everyone hadn't gone out of their way to let her know. When you're that young, loss and grief is a private, intimate thing. Indeed, somewhere deep inside, Citrine probably blames herself for both her father's death and her mother's exile."
"Not really!"
"Oh, yes. If only she'd been a better daughter Rolfston would have taken more care on the battlefield, Melina wouldn't have left…"
"You've become quite wise all of a sudden," Elise said, regretting instantly the mocking note that underlay the words.
Doc seemed not to hear it.
"Not really. After my trip to the capital I took every opportunity I could to talk to people with children, people who had lost parents when they were young, even those whose parents had divorced. Since the injury to Citrine was no longer organicùI could feel that when I tried to treat herùit must originate in her mind.
"And maybe," he added sadly, "I know something of assuming guilt. After all, despite my much praised talent for healing, I couldn't save my wife or our baby."
There was a quick knock on the door and Ninette, ever faithful to her duties as chaperon, came in without waiting for reply. Evidently, she was relieved to find them so decorously positioned.
"Citrine is in her nursery," Ninette said, not commenting on what might have driven the child away, "and the second housemaid is going to give her supper there."
Elise smiled thanks and offered Ninette the remaining glass of juice.
"Has anything been heard from Firekeeper and Derian?" Doc asked, hastening to change the subject.
"Not that I know," Elise replied, "but it is early days yet. The king did not expect them until the end of Bear Moon. It is only that now."
"I wonder how he thought he could expect themùor at least Firekeeperùat all," Doc said, voicing a question over which Elise herself had puzzled a great deal. "I'd have thought we wouldn't see her until the first snowfallùand maybe not even then."
Elise raised her hands in a gesture of confusion.
"Who knows how the king knows what he knows? I only hope King Tedric can teach Sapphire and Shad some small portion of his wisdom before he goes to join the ancestors."
"Or share his spy network with them," Doc added with a cynicism that surprised Elise, though she knew it shouldn't.
She considered whether in the half-year or so that had passed since she had last seen Doc she might have idealized him a bit. It was quite possible. Their contacts had been brief and utterly unromantic, mostly the exchange of a few letters containing pamphlets on medical subjects. Once she had sent him pressed and dried samples of a river herb that a local wise woman swore brought down swelling and fever.
The correspondence between them had been so proper and correct Elise would not have hesitated to let her parents see the letters if they had asked. Neither did, though. She wondered if this indicated approval, disapproval, or merely indifference to her friendship with Sir Jared. Or maybe it was none of these things. Maybe they simply trusted her to make the best choice with the barony in mind.
Elise gave herself a mental shake and returned her full attention to Ninette and Doc.
"Sorry," she apologized somewhat lamely, unable for a moment to recall what they had been conversing about. Then she remembered.
"Another thing I wonder," she said quickly, "is under what guise the king will have us go into New Kelvin. He promised us some guidance on that matter, but thus far we have heard nothing."
Doc raised his hand in an involuntary motion toward his forehead.
&n
bsp; "I only hope that His Majesty does not expect us to pretend to be New Kelvinese," he said. "I might manage to pretend to be someone other than myself, but I do not think I could sustain the deception."
Elise recalled how strange she had felt for those brief hours when she had acted the part. Her hair was finally recovering some from having been shaved after the New Kelvinese fashion. Indeed, making certain it grew quickly and strong had been a matter of much concern that winter. She'd spent more hours than she cared to recall with her head smeared with some odorous paste of artemisia and rosemary, then wrapped in warm cloths, the procedure culminating in a vigorous scalp massage. It would be hard to sacrifice that hard-won golden fringe once more.
"You could if you must," she scolded with mock severity. "Simply act the part of the silent and somber male, and leave the talking to facile females like Wendee and myself."
"I usually do," Doc laughed.
Elise made as if to tap him across the knuckles with an imaginary fan.
"In any case," she went on, "you are much behind the rest of us in your studies of New Kelvinese. We must ask Grateful Peace to give you intense tutelage."
"Not that!" Doc said, stretching his accents into those of a country man. "Don't you know ma'am that I'm just a poor healer from the backwoods?"
The soft ringing of a bell announced that dinner was ready. Elise rose and Doc, with natural courtesy, offered his escort to both her and Ninette.
"I've brought some wine," Doc said, "from my family's vineyards. It's a newish vintage, but we're pleased with it. I understand that Race Forester brought partridges in addition to puppies. I think they shall go well together."
Elise made some proper answer, but she couldn't help thinking: As well as you and me?
Chapter XIII
DERIAN SOUGHT Firekeeper two days after their meeting with the king and his heirs. When Firekeeper emerged from the trees toward which a lazily circling Elation had directed him, Derian found the wolf-woman edgy and tense, but as she was often this way when delayed in her course, he thought nothing much of it.
He did think something of purpling bruises on her throat, but seeing her glower when his gaze rested on them, he decided that it would be wisest not to ask her about them. Doubtless she'd gotten the worse side in one of her wrestling matches with Blind Seer and was still soreùin more ways than oneùabout it.
"I had a letter today," Derian began, relaxing onto a rock that bordered one of the streams. "It came under a cover addressed to my mother as if routine business for the stables, but the contents were for meùfor both of us."
Firekeeper looked unsurprised by this evidence of court intrigue, standing with her back against a young oak, tossing her knife restlessly into a log several yards away. Derian was impressed when he realized that she was targeting a knot no bigger than a human eye and hitting it every time.
"Read letter?" she suggested, pulling the knife from the wood and stepping back to her place again.
Derian pulled the missive out, unfolded it, and then paused. "We're alone?"
"But for those little wild things," Firekeeper assured him, "too stupid to fear a wolf. No human is near."
Derian began without further delay, " 'From His Most Gracious Majesty,
King Tedric…'"
"Yes, yes," Firekeeper said. "We know who from! What it say?" Derian, who had deliberately not skipped the formal opening in order to tease her, grinned and moved ahead to the text.
As previously agreed upon, you and Firekeeper shall proceed to the Norwood Grant, there meeting with Lady Archer and the other members of your expedition. After long and careful consideration, it has been decided that you may best serve our purposes by entering New Kelvinùat least initiallyùas yourselves and in your own form and guise.
The reason to be given for your traveling there will be that you go as agents for the Kestrel Duchy and the Archer Barony, both of which are interested in entering into a joint agreement wherein goods shall be imported from New Kelvin and sold not only in Hawk Haven, but also in Bright Bay. Baron Archer has been consulted on this matter and has given his enthusiastic approval. We expect equal cooperation from Duchess Kestrel and are writing to request such.
This explanation shall provide ample reason for nearly all members of your party to make the journey. Lady Archer and Lord Kestrel represent the interests of the Houses they will someday inherit. Lady Blysse is a member of House Kestrel. Derian Carter is not only favored by the patronage of Earl Kestrel, but is a representative of one of the most prominent firms offering transportation of goods and persons within the realm. Sir Jared Surcliffe is a healer, known for his interest in all types of medical lore. He would make a good advisor on the types and quality of medicinal herbs for which this consortium might trade. It goes without saying that a chaperon must be provided for the two young ladies. Wendee Jay not only serves admirably in that capacity, but also as a representative of Duchess Kestrel.
Derian stopped in his reading and grinned. "I bet that last paragraph was Sapphire's doing. King Tedric would expect us to figure out the excuses for our going ourselves."
Firekeeper flashed him an answering grin and nodded.
"Read!"
Derian complied.
Given your prior journey into New Kelvin and despite that journey's rather sensational conclusion, not many should question any of those mentioned above being chosen for the task.
The attendance of Citrine Shield could raise some small question. We suggest that her presence, if at all possible, be downplayed. Wendee Jay has two young daughters; perhaps Citrine could be represented as one of these. However, whatever excuse you choose to manufacture, none of those with whom you do business should take much note of a child of nine.
Enclosed in this packet are letters of introduction to the staff of our embassy in New Kelvin. That Lady Archer and Lord Kestrel would call upon the ambassador and make their presence in the city known should raise no questions. Indeed, their failure to do so last winter could have raised more. Also included are documents for lines of credit that House Kestrel may convert into appropriate currency to fund your expedition.
Needless to say, there will be those who will wonder at your presence in Dragon's Breath and who will suspect that you are interested in more than silk, glass, and medicinal herbs. However, their very interest in you may provide opportunities to learn some of those things we desire to know.
Derian concluded his reading and looked up to find Firekeeper poised, knife in hand. She threw it as his gaze rested upon her.
"When we go?" she asked, retrieving the knife and checking the blade for nicks.
"Tomorrow morning," he said, "if you can hold on that long."
Firekeeper nodded.
"I can waitùtill tomorrow. Others know we come?"
"I sent a pigeon the very day of our meeting with the king," Derian agreed, "giving my guess as to when we could depart."
"Then they be ready to go when we get there?"
"Probably not immediately," Derian said. "There will be packing and other preparation to make. Still, I doubt whether we'll be delayed more than a day or two. Why are you so impatient?"
Firekeeper shrugged.
"Every day my feet wish to go west to my pack. The sooner they are tired from going other the best."
Derian nodded. In many ways, he felt the sameùthough in his case his impulse was to drag his heels. He had spent much of the winter away from his family, and much of the spring and autumn before that. Now summer was being taken as well. It wasn't so much that he liked the drudgery or the routine of Prancing Steed Stables, but that it was the one place he still felt he belonged.
Even there, though, he was being displaced. Damita and Brock were being trained to take over Derian's routine. The stables themselves were changing in character, cartage being replaced by boarding other's animals and by the sale of fine beasts. Still, home was home and if his own was threatened as Firekeeper so clearly felt hers was, Derian didn't know how he'd f
eel about being told that the best thing he could do for those he loved was to leave them to their fate.
"We go in the morning," Derian said. "I'll meet you along the north road."
Firekeeper nodded.
"Good then. Tomorrow."
She turned, stepped into the forest's edge, waved once, and, although it was broad daylight and Derian could have sworn he never took his gaze from her, was gone.
AS SOON AS the carrier pigeon arrived bearing the news that Derian and Firekeeper would leave Eagle's Nest on or about the twenty-sixth day of Bear Moon, Elise started getting her band ready for their departure into New Kelvin.
Wendee Jay, a traveling player in her youth, was of considerable assistance. Indeed, within a day of the message's arrival, Wendee had taken over the preparations. Elise had other things demanding her attention.
Duchess Kestrel came to call, Edlin trailing at her heels. The young lord's expression and the dusting of dog hair on his clothing eloquently showed that he'd been called from the kennels.
Elise sighed. She knew she would be glad to have Edlin along once they were on the road, but he was taking his preparation for the trip far less seriously than was Citrine. The little girl had acquired a good smattering of functional phrases and an even better vocabulary. She could identify the marks for the thirteen sodalities at a glance, even in their abbreviated form. All Elise could hope was that Grateful Peace was managing to tutor Edlin when the men retired to the gatehouse in the evening.
As soon as they were settled in the parlor and refreshments had been served, Duchess Kestrel produced a letter bearing, Elise saw to some surprise, the seal of House Archer. She experienced a momentary flurry of fear. Had something happened to one of her parents? Had Baron Archer withdrawn his permission for her to go into New Kelvin?
The last seemed all too possible. Although the common people thought of the nobility as solidly supporting the king and his policies, Elise knew how much jockeying for position and precedence went on behind the scenes. House Wellward and House Kite, for example, had long been rivals. No matter how much they smiled and exchanged cordial words in public, the bite of that rivalry was there. Had something happened to make Baron Archer decide he needed to show his own House's strength?
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