So he had saved two. Perhaps she could do something for the other two herself.
Ailsbet left Kellin and went to see her brother. She noticed there were new groomsmen within his chambers, and new guards without, one of whom was missing two front teeth and looked hardly older than her brother.
“Have you heard what will happen to the captured groomsmen?” Ailsbet asked. Could he put himself in the place of his guardsmen and imagine what that would be like? Could he conceive of what it would be like to watch it—to hear it?
Edik closed the door to his chambers and pushed a trunk against it. He looked thin and pale. “They stole from me! My groomsmen took my taweyr!” he cried. “They deserve punishment!”
“Edik, what proof do you have that they took your taweyr?” asked Ailsbet.
“Who else could it be? I have no taweyr, so they must be ekhono.”
“Think, Edik,” said Ailsbet. “Have they shown at any other time that they are ekhono?”
“They are too clever for that,” said Edik. “They came to destroy my taweyr. It is a great ekhono conspiracy.”
He had several swords hanging on his walls now. Ailsbet had not noticed them before. New gifts from their father, the king? Edik touched them lovingly.
“Perhaps there could be another explanation,” said Ailsbet. “One that has nothing to do with your groomsmen.”
“Of course, there is no other explanation,” said Edik.
“But what if you have not truly come into your taweyr yet? What if it was true that others were using their taweyr for you?”
“That is impossible,” said Edik flatly. “Of course it was my taweyr. I felt it. I knew it was mine.”
“Then think about this: you could beg our father for their lives. You could ask him to set them free.”
“For what reason?” asked Edik.
“For the sake of mercy?” said Ailsbet.
“And when has our father done anything for mercy?”
“Then do something else for them.”
“What?” asked Edik. “They are guilty. I cannot save them from their fates now.”
“Were they never your friends? Did they never do anything kind to you, laugh with you or tease you? Did you never meet their families or hear them speak of sweethearts?” asked Ailsbet.
“They are servants. I owe them nothing,” said Edik, turning away from her.
“Edik, beware,” said Ailsbet. She had told Kellin that Edik could be a proper king, that he only needed to grow older. But now she did not know if that was the case. “There is danger waiting for you that you do not wish to see,” she added.
“I see the danger of the ekhono,” said Edik stubbornly.
“That is not what I mean. Our father is a king first, not a father.” She did not spell it out for Edik, but surely he must understand her.
“The ekhono hate me,” said Edik, ignoring Ailsbet’s hints completely. “They want to destroy me. I must destroy them first.”
There was altogether too much destruction in Rurik, as far as Ailsbet was concerned. But it seemed no one listened to her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Issa
IN THE THRONE ROOM the next day, King Haikor invited Issa to attend the execution of the prince’s groomsmen on the Tower Green. Please no, Issa whispered silently.
“I think Prince Edik would be glad of your place at his side,” said King Haikor. “It will be an opportunity to show your loyalty to your future husband and your abhorrence of all those who act against him.”
Issa knew that when she became queen in Rurik, she would have to attend executions. But she had hoped to leave that for some years yet.
“Or perhaps you are too weak for this. You do look pale and pinched,” said King Haikor.
“I have slept poorly these last weeks,” said Issa, “in this new and unfamiliar place, with so many new things to learn. But I am adjusting quickly.” She was learning how to put on a mask, as Princess Ailsbet had.
“So you will be well enough to come to the execution, then?” said King Haikor.
It was the last thing Issa wanted to do. But when she glanced at Ailsbet, she saw that the other princess was not asking to be excused. Issa could hardly be seen as weaker than Ailsbet.
She still believed Edik’s groomsmen were innocent. But there was nothing she could do to save them.
“I shall come,” said Issa.
“Good. So there is some mettle in Weirland, after all,” said King Haikor.
The following morning, Issa woke long before dawn. Still, she lay in bed until one of her own servants came to help her into her new gown, made from blue silk, the color of Weirland. They did not speak of where Issa was about to go. Nor did anyone speak of breakfast.
At last, Issa walked down the stairs and out through the inner courtyard, which was beaten-down dirt, with no touch of neweyr left in it, no hint of green growth. She looked at the clean stones, untouched by moss and ivy, and felt a pang of homesickness that she suspected would never really leave her, even if she returned to Weirland.
Then she caught sight of the gangly figure of Prince Edik, waiting for her. He lifted a hand and waved, and she felt relief. She and Edik had something in common, after all. These were his groomsmen, and he must regret their death as she did, even if he thought it was necessary.
Issa could see Kellin and Ailsbet sitting close together, looking at ease if unusually solemn, as if it were merely another day in court. A makeshift throne had been brought out for King Haikor to sit on, not the elaborate one from the Throne Room, but one that was finely carved with stout legs and raised him high above anyone else. The throne sat upon fine Caracassan rugs, which had been spread on the grayish ground. The name Tower Green was now more of a reminder that there was no grass near the palace, nor much of any living plant.
The river Weyr could be seen clearly from this vantage point, reaching out to the ocean beyond, and there were already commoners gathered across the river to see the execution. Their attitude of celebration made Issa ill.
“You look a little better now,” said King Haikor.
Issa nodded and took her place next to Prince Edik.
“Now you will see how we deal with traitors in Rurik,” said Haikor.
Edik shuddered, the first sign Issa had seen that he regretted what had happened to the groomsmen, and for that she felt a sudden warmth for him and put a hand on his arm.
“A man faces death proudly and gladly,” said King Haikor, his gaze on Edik as harsh as on the groomsmen as they were led out of the Tower.
“I think a man is no less a man for grieving at a loss, when it must be faced,” Issa said, for Edik’s sake.
“But what you think makes a man does not matter here, does it?” said Edik quietly. “Nor what I think.”
After that, Issa had nothing else to say to him. The commoners on the other side of the river roared as the two young men struggled against the Tower guards and wept on the short path to the block where the executioner stood, tall and hooded.
The lower part of the Tower had been built generations ago, but King Haikor had added to it early in his own reign, so that it rose higher than any other part of the palace. It swayed with the wind, a symbol of the taweyr, in a land where only the taweyr mattered.
The two groomsmen looked up and caught sight of Edik. They cried out for mercy.
Issa could feel him tense beside her, and he opened his mouth, but did not speak.
The executioner knelt both of the groomsmen down on the Green. Edik looked away, biting his lower lip until it bled.
But the executioner made quick work with his axe, and soon the two men were dead. Their bodies would be burned later for all to see.
“It is finished,” Issa whispered. Only then did Edik look upon the men he had betrayed, and Issa could not tell for whom the hatred in his eyes was meant.
Issa turned to Ailsbet and saw there were tears on her cheeks. It was the first time Issa had seen the other princess weep. The
tears ran down her face and dripped onto her gown, and she did not seem to notice them.
King Haikor stood and waved at the commoners across the river, who cheered for him and for the executioner. Then he thumped Edik on the back. “This is what it means to be a prince,” he said, and the warning was clear in his tone. “A prince rejoices in seeing traitors receive their due.”
They all walked toward the palace then, but Haikor returned to his Throne Room, and Edik remained outside a moment longer with Issa. He said softly, his head bowed, “I have never had many friends, and now I have none.”
“You have me,” said Issa.
Edik turned away, his shoulders hunched, and walked back to his chambers, alone. And then Issa saw Kellin, who had his eyes on Ailsbet and his hand on her cheek, wiping away her tears. He was not hers, thought Issa. And he never would be, no matter how much she might wish it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Ailsbet
LATER IN THE AFTERNOON following the execution of Edik’s two groomsmen, Ailsbet was astonished when the ambassador from Aristonne dropped a note in her hand. The face of Ambassador Belram was pockmarked from a long-ago illness, but he wore fine clothes with the continental cut. He spoke to King Haikor in a precisely accented tone, but he tended to fade into the background of the court for long stretches of time. He had certainly never spoken to Ailsbet before.
Ailsbet was not able to read the note until that evening, after she had retired to her own chambers. The paper was thick and fine, of a perfectly uniform ivory color. The smell of the ink was unfamiliar, and its color was almost brown rather than black, so she thought the ink must be very fine. The words themselves were formed in a delicate hand, with ornamentation that made it difficult to read. It was an invitation to meet Belram two hours past midnight at the stone wall behind the kitchens.
She debated whether to go. After all, there was no reason for her to think the ambassador of Aristonne wished her well. The location was a dark, vacant one. If Belram meant to harm her, he could do so without any fear of being overheard, and it would be hours before she was found. Ailsbet had done nothing personally against Aristonne, but she feared that hurting her might be a way for the current prince of Aristonne to wreak vengeance against her father, even if it was twenty years after the battle at which the young King Haikor had defeated that prince’s father.
But the ambassador was no assassin. He was at least a foot shorter than she was, and Ailsbet was fairly certain that she could protect herself against him without any assistance. If the prince of Aristonne wished her dead, he would have sent someone else.
Perhaps the ambassador meant to propose marriage to her before Duke Kellin did, to take her away from her father’s court and offer her a place at his side when he returned to the continent. She would have her chance to escape. It was surprisingly tempting.
Whatever weyr she held would end as soon as she crossed the ocean to Aristonne. She would not be forever holding back the taweyr to prevent its discovery, nor wishing she had the neweyr. She would find Master Lukacs. She would be in a world where music mattered to everyone as it did to her, where her talent would be truly appreciated and allowed to grow.
Two hours after midnight, she went to the wall behind the kitchen and found the ambassador holding a scroll in his hands.
“It is a gift from Prince William of Aristonne,” said Belram with a bow.
“And what does Prince William of Aristonne want in return for this?” asked Ailsbet suspiciously.
“He wants only your happiness,” said Belram, his voice revealing nothing.
Ailsbet eyed the man. “Do you think I am a fool?”
“No, Princess.”
“What has Prince William heard of me?” she demanded.
“He has heard that you are mistreated by your father and overlooked by all in your father’s court,” the ambassador responded. “Even Duke Kellin does not see your true worth.”
Ailsbet was taken aback. Kellin was the one who had suggested she could become queen. What more could Prince William see in her? “Does Prince William expect me to send information to him?”
The ambassador fingered his beard. “Prince William has no need of a spy,” he said.
Ailsbet shook her head. “Do not expect me to believe that Prince William has forgiven all that has gone in the past.” Prince William had been only three years old when his father and his kingdom’s whole fighting force had been destroyed in battle by her father’s army.
“I did not say that Prince William has forgiven anyone. But you are not to blame for your father’s war.”
“I am princess of Rurik,” said Ailsbet.
“You are that,” said Belram. “Though I think it brings you more pain than happiness.”
Ailsbet did not dispute this. “My father—”
“Prince William despises your father and would sooner see him dead than standing in the same room with him. That is not in question.”
“But he sent you to sit with my father at his court and act as his emissary?”
Belram shrugged. “Your father is king of Rurik. I could hardly come and ask to speak with you without first speaking to him. And if ever I paid you attention openly, what would your father do?”
Ailsbet was not sure she knew the answer.
The ambassador continued, “He would make Prince William pay a ransom to send you a note, and then ask him for half his kingdom for your hand in marriage.”
Ailsbet put a hand to her throat. “I shall not marry Prince William,” she said. She was nearly betrothed to Duke Kellin, and while she did not love him, at least she knew him. She knew nothing about Prince William.
Ambassador Belram tilted his head to one side. “Prince William does not ask you to marry him, Princess Ailsbet. Please, open the scroll.”
Ailsbet pulled off the ribbon and unrolled the scroll. It was written on rougher paper than the earlier note, with splotches of darker color, and the writing was not as fine, instead seeming rather hurried. And familiar. In the dim light from the torches on the wall behind her, she scanned the contents.
It was not a formal letter or a poem as she had expected.
It was a song, purely instrumental. A song for the flute, in fact.
The notations were written in the coded marks of Aristonne’s system of music, which Ailsbet had learned from Master Lukacs.
This was the last song that she had learned from Master Lukacs, the one she had mastered just before he left more than four years ago. She had no need to read the music. It was all here, every change she had made to the original song when she had played it that last time with Master Lukacs, marked in his impatient hand.
“Prince William waits for you. For Ailsbet, the musician. Not Princess Ailsbet of Rurik. Do you understand?”
She nodded. Could she leave behind her place as princess, give up all power and political intrigue and be only a musician? Or was this just a way to get her to Aristonne, where she might be forced into a marriage with Prince William, despite his protestations to the contrary? It might be much worse than her situation here in Rurik. But it might also be much, much better. How could she assess the risk when such a prize was dangling before her?
“You have only to send a message,” continued the ambassador. “I shall wait for you with a small vessel, on the dock at the wide end of the river. There will be a black-and-white flag flying the swan of Aristonne.”
Ailsbet nodded. She had been there a few times, watching the boats from the continent unload their goods with the help of the unweyr, who were not affected by the ocean.
Ailsbet rolled up the scroll and held it against her chest.
“You must give no hint of what I have said to you,” warned Belram. “You must not speak to me or look at me differently. Your father might suspect something, and if he were to find out the truth—”
Ailsbet knew as well as he did what the consequences might be. The ambassador could end up in the Tower himself, and her own life would be in dange
r.
“Tell me of Prince William. Are you his friend?” asked Ailsbet. Before now she had thought of Kellin as her only hope for a refuge within her father’s court, her only way of surviving. But perhaps Prince William was not such a terrible alternative.
Belram stared at her. “I was his father’s friend. But Prince William would not call me the same. He has been heard to say that a prince cannot afford to have friends. The moment he has a friend, he will look at that man differently, will favor him over others without noticing it, or will punish him in order to be seen not to favor him. A prince who has a friend is inviting others to twist him one way or another. A friend is a hostage at best and at worst is an invitation to betrayal.”
Prince William sounded like a man whom she might honor for his principles. A cold man, as cold and dispassionate as she was herself. Could she make a marriage with him if she had to?
“Is Master Lukacs not his friend, then?”
The ambassador smiled. “Ah, Master Lukacs is his fellow musical enthusiast. The prince allows himself this one weakness, you see. But I tell you the truth when I say that Prince William would throw all his musical instruments and scrolls into the fire if he had to, to save his kingdom.”
“And Master Lukacs?” Ailsbet was imagining a fire of scrolls, and Master Lukacs jumping into it to save them.
“The prince would throw him into the fire, too. And me. And you,” said the ambassador.
Ailsbet looked into his face, and she saw that he was entirely serious. “He sounds a harsh man. You serve him anyway?”
“With all my heart,” said the ambassador, without hesitation. Then he slipped away, and Ailsbet walked back to her own rooms, humming to herself.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Issa
IN THE WEEKS FOLLOWING the groomsmen’s executions, the king grew more enthusiastic than ever in the pursuit of the ekhono. There had been two more servants accused who fled, and she heard of more than a dozen burnings in the city of Skorosa. No one from the palace attended these, and Issa was both relieved and guilty about this. She wished she could talk to Edik. She had tried to bring up the subject of his groomsmen’s execution, but he had simply walked away from her and refused to speak. He did not say much about any other subject, either, and had become so quiet at court that the king mocked him for it. But even this did not change him.
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