A Posse of Princesses

by Sherwood Smith

  Another thing: she and Shera had learned some of the camping tasks, so camp was easier and faster every day. By now everyone had tasks that they’d taken as their own. Rhis had decided to learn how unappetizing-looking roots and bits of herb and so forth turned into tasty meals. The guards had gladly taught her to cook—mostly by show, at first, then gradually using more High Plains words as Rhis worked to learn the language. Lessons progressed faster, to the point that Rhis learned to spot certain wild herbs from the trail.

  Right now she had a potato stew simmering, full of vegetables, fresh herbs, and some of the hoarded High Plains spices, as she ventured from warm-up into a few simple songs.

  Shera appeared, laying a hand on her wrist. “That sounds pretty, and I beg pardon for interrupting,” she whispered. “But I think you need to see this.”

  Rhis had gotten used to Shera’s habit of saying ‘this’ for what could mean any of five to fifty things. It wasn’t the word you listened to so much as watching for the gestures she made to tell you what ‘this’ was supposed to be now. Shera’s chin tipped toward the river.

  Rhis laid aside her tiranthe and noiselessly followed Shera.

  Over the days the two of them had removed all the unnecessary decoration from their riding clothes, until they were pretty much indistinguishable from the High Plains people. They had learned to braid their hair simply and tightly for riding. There were no maids for the pleasant morning and evening ritual of brushing it out and dressing it elaborately.

  Shera paused on the high ridge above a river-bank, and pointed below.

  They’d stopped at sunset, as always. Silhouetted in the mellow golden slants of the vanishing sun were four figures on the flat riverbank, moving in cadence. Rhis blocked the last bit of the sun with a hand. Taniva and the guards were twirling and stabbing and lunging and sweeping real weapons round. And—farther up the bank—there was Yuzhyu’s bright head as she bounded with graceful deliberation, practicing with her knives!

  Shera clutched her hands to her front. “What do you think that is about?”

  “I don’t know, but I am going to ask,” Rhis said as they turned away.

  When the others returned to the camp, they did not act as if anything was amiss. Taniva sniffed appreciatively at the stew Rhis had made.

  Rhis wondered if the others had always gone off like that to do those drills with the swords and knives, and she had failed to notice because she’d been so tired and sore.

  Still. After she’d dished the food out, and they all sat in a circle eating with hearty appetites, she said, “So what is that you do with the weapons? Are you planning to assassinate somebody?”

  Taniva glanced up in surprise, her spoon halfway to her mouth. “Is drill. We always do. You did not see at Eskanda palace? Yes! I see you there one time.”

  Rhis said, “All right. So you practice. But I’m asking again, are you planning to attack someone?”

  Yuzhyu’s abilities with language had improved vastly since they’d left the palace party, where she’d mostly been on the outside of things, looking in. “Not attack,” she said. “But defend? If we must.”

  Rhis considered that, then turned to Taniva. “So you’re not thinking about carving up D—Prince Lios.”

  “Him? Tchah!” Taniva stirred her stew vigorously. “It is Jarvas whose blade I hope to cross.” She added some pungent insults in her own tongue that made her guards grin, then added, “He and his pest princess are nothing but trouble.”

  Rhis said, “I wondered about that. Why you’d want to rescue the ‘pest.’ I mean, I understand about keeping various kings from leading armies across your kingdom, but there are other ways of doing that, aren’t there?”

  Taniva chuckled. “My father want me to marry Lios. For much-needed alliance. I do not want to marry him. My father has very bad temper. I knew Lios not want me any more than I want him. But if I go, my father cannot say I do not try. Now, when that black-haired pest is grabbed, and by our enemy, I am thinking first that I prove myself a worthy leader. Get her back. And save Lios much trouble, so maybe he makes alliance with us without any marriage!” She pointed. “You play this wooden thing with strings?”

  “I would be happy to,” Rhis said, and did.

  Taniva listened, a curiously intent expression on her face.

  When Rhis finished her song, Taniva insisted she play more—songs from other lands—and she listened carefully as she took her turn with the washing up.

  Rhis felt self-conscious. She’d usually played for herself, or for her family. She knew she wasn’t a great player.

  But Taniva seemed serious. So Rhis played, wincing at fumbles, hating it when she lost her timing, until she noticed that the others all seemed to appreciate the shimmering sounds of the strings, damped to shift to minor keys by the finger-pedals. At Taniva’s gesture the girl guard, Dartha, began a dance to a lively tune, clapping her hands in counterpoint, and stamping her feet. She was an excellent dancer.

  The other two got out their vests with the chimes, put away the day they left, and they too joined the dancing, their chimes ringing sweetly in time to the music. Yuzhyu brought out a pair of wooden spoons and tapped out a rhythm on a rock.

  When they were done, Taniva said, “You two sing?”

  Shera and Rhis exchanged looks. They’d sang harmony on the journey to Eskanda, but not when anyone heard them. But they sang a couple of ballads, watching one another for cues as they harmonized. At the end, when Rhis wrung her fingers and moved to put away the instrument, Yuzhyu, who hadn’t spoken to her in days, put the spoons away then said shyly, “Iss good. The music.”

  Taniva grinned. “Is very good. Heh!” Then she turned away, falling into conversation with Dartha and the older women. Rhis caught a few words. Path. Ride. Horses. Prince.

  With an inward jolt, Rhis remembered Dandiar and his guards, somewhere out there, maybe even running parallel to the girls.

  To shove him out of her mind, Rhis determinedly talked about ballads, and where they came from. Yuzhyu listened, no longer moving her lips. As the others began packing against morning and their usual fast departure, Rhis stayed where she was. The way Yuzhyu leaned toward her, showing far more interest in the rambling conversation about songs than it warranted, Rhis sensed that the Ndaian princess wanted to talk to her.

  And she knew what about. She also knew that she was still angry with the false Dandiar the Scribe, though defining why wasn’t as easy as it had been. So she gave one last strum in the lowest minor chord and set aside her tiranthe. If she was right, she only had to say, “So tell me his reasons.”

  Yuzhyu did not ask ‘who?’ or ‘what reasons’. She said, “You not want to lissen.”

  “I’m listening now.”

  “I think very long how to say.” Yuzhyu flashed her lovely smile, not seen for days. Then she leaned forward, and in smoother language than Rhis had ever heard from her, she explained how Lios’s mother, Queen Briath, had married the Ndaian queen’s brother. He was also Yuzhyu’s uncle. Queen Briath and the Ndaian prince made a treaty alliance with their marriage. But Queen Briath had sent her consort home for good before Lios was even born.

  “She hate my oncle. My oncle not like she. Her. When my cuzzin came for to stay—the treaty said he must—my oncle was so unkind to him. Said he be like his mozzer. So Lios and my home-cuzzins all play togesser. Then life not so bad for him. When he go home, his mother not like memories of Ndai, or how he remind her of my oncle. She leave my cuzzin live at Eskanda.”

  “So Queen Briath doesn’t really know Lios?” Rhis asked.

  Yuzhyu shrugged her shoulders up and down, a sharp movement. “Not much pipple do. Me. My brosser. Some cuzzins. We all good friends. We make his stay in Ndai good. And when I come, he promise to make my visit good.” She smiled wryly. “He tried.”

  Rhis had to agree with that.

  Yuzhyu continued, “This is why he makes a party to meet girls and no treaty . . . how you say? No treaty mask. Not like his m
ozzer, and my oncle, who pretend friendship for treaty when they are courting. But they do not know each other, and when they do?” She made a terrible face. “They not like the other.”

  Rhis watched the way Yuzhyu rubbed her knuckles over her knees as she crouched. It was clear how much she liked her cousin. But.

  “He said it was a joke,” Rhis muttered.

  Yuzhyu looked up in the fading light. It was difficult to see her expression. Rhis had seen a wide range of her moods, but the Ndaian had never been sarcastic. So her sardonic tone was a surprise now as she said, “You do not think Iardith chasing Andos a joke?”

  Rhis picked up the tiranthe, ducked through the tent flap, and slid the instrument into her saddle-bag. Yuzhyu hunkered down nearby, watching. Rhis thought back, then said, “I do. But it makes me feel mean. Because of what I heard about the King of Arpalon, who told his daughter she cannot come home without a queen’s future crown.”

  Shera, lying in her cloak, said, “What are you two talking about?”

  “Lios. The real one.”

  “Urf. I don’t want to talk about boys.” Shera turned the other way.

  Rhis said to Yuzhyu, “I feel a little sorry for Iardith. But only a little. When I remember the way she pushed other girls out of her way, as though she was the only one who mattered, well, yes, then I see the joke.”

  Yuzhyu grunted, rolled up in her coat, and that was the end of the conversation.

  oOo

  The next day, they reached the border of Damatras, which was a long chasm cut by a river through some jumbled mountains.

  The regular road ran along the ridge above the chasm. Taniva pointed out how it meandered among the slopes, gradually rising and falling. “Easier for armies to march. But much slower than old trail,” she said as they rode slowly along the edge of the road.

  They finally found what she was looking for—and even then almost missed it, a turnoff that looked like a footpath. When they edged up to the roadside above the chasm, they saw that there was not a sheer drop, but a slope leading down to a little bridge that connected to an outcropping, well shaded with ancient trees, on the adjacent hill.

  Without explanation one of the older women took off down this little path, raced over the little bridge, and vanished into the shaded old forest growth. Taniva and the other woman followed more slowly, and Rhis, Shera, and Yuzhyu followed them.

  The path into the old forest appeared to be an animal trail, but Rhis discovered after a time that this was a very old footpath. The horses had to walk in single file for most of that day.

  Then it was time to go upward again. Mossy marker stones, the carvings in them obscured by time and thick, rambling thorn-bushes, rested beside twists and side paths, matching signs on the map.

  Huge dark green trees with thick clusters of hanging leaves obscured the travelers as they continued the long climb up the mountain paths. Slowly, Rhis noted, the lovely leafy trees of the lowlands were giving way to firs, though some were different types than those she’d grown up with in Nym. Once a band of clouds moved across the sky, and Rhis listened to the rustling patter of rain in the leaves overhead while only occasionally feeling a drop or two.

  They halted just above a wide river full of stones and white water. Beyond a wide bend Rhis could make out part of a vast bridge.

  “We wait here,” Taniva said.

  “Why?” Rhis asked.

  “Because they patrol all time. Beyond here, we do not go as us. They know we are here before we see any of them. We change,” she said, dismounting.

  “Change?” Shera asked, hands on hips. “Back into civilized people, I hope.”

  Rhis studied her sister-by-marriage, who stood there in grubby riding clothes without a hint of ornament, her face smudged, her hair skinned back into a tight braid. Shera didn’t look like a princess any more. She looked more like a weathered, practical courier or caravan rider. Rhis wondered if she herself looked like a cook. Not a very successful one, she thought with an inward laugh. I’m too skinny.

  Taniva smacked her hands together. “We change into players. Music players.” She pretended to strum a stringed instrument. “We practice when we stop.”

  Shera crowed in delight. “A masquerade! Oh, how fun!”

  “Wait. Wait,” Rhis said. “We won’t fool anybody who really knows music like court musicians play.”

  Taniva waggled her hands. “No matter. It gets us in castle gates. You perform. If they like you, you play for king. If not, they say go away next day. Gates close at night. No one goes in or out.”

  “But—” Rhis faltered as Taniva glanced at her impatiently.

  She studied the others, finding similar expressions. They thought she was being too fussy. She struggled for the right words. “I just do not want them suspicious. I mean, if we arrive right behind Jarvas and the Perfect Princess, and they lock gates at night. Doesn’t that mean these are people who really don’t like strangers?”

  Yuzhyu poked her chin out in her definitive nod. “Iss true.”

  “That’s why we practice. You two sing and play. Yuzhyu plays hand drum. Dartha dances.”

  “Looking like we do now?” Rhis asked.

  Taniva laughed. “Where you think Arnava goes? To get disguises, and find a Damatran hand drum! We get in. You perform while I find pest. Then it is up to you, for they can never see me, as High Plains and Damatras are old enemies,” Taniva said. Her lips curled deeply. “And I have been here before.” Her smile vanished. “So you have three days. We travel. You practice. We act when we get inside.”

  Shera turned to Rhis, hands on her hips again. “Taniva has gotten us safely there. So now it’s our turn . . .” She looked uncertain.

  Rhis said in her brightest voice, “All right.”

  Taniva laughed. “We are girls. Musicians. What can go wrong?”

  In a castle full of enemies? When Rhis had never held a weapon in her life?

  “What can go wrong?” Rhis echoed with completely false confidence.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The capital of Damatras was a long, narrow walled city, built along a high ridge above a slow river. The king’s castle commanded the view from the center of the city, with its own towers and high walls—higher than the city walls. There were four towers connecting these walls, and a central one that was the highest of all. It made the various towers to the sides look kind of like a crown, all coming to that central point, silvery in the watery sunlight.

  All the castle windows were arches, widened from the old-fashioned arrow slits. Rhis wondered if, like in Nym, there were wards against arrows passing through windows—or if the people had sturdy iron-reinforced shutters to be put up in bad times, like many who didn’t trust magic, high on Nym’s more distant peaks.

  Behind the city rose sheer cliffs blasted by powerful magic a couple of centuries ago. Long striated layers of rock glittered in the sun. At one end the mountain sloped away, impossible for any enemy to climb without being seen; the other end was marked by a spectacular series of waterfalls that fed into the great river.

  A single bridge of awe-inspiring beauty crossed from the main road to the ridge above the river. There was no other approach to the bridge but the main road—full of armed people riding back and forth as they scanned the market and city traffic.

  After Taniva’s guards had done a scouting foray—looking for sign of Dandiar and his group—the girls had proceeded in a sedate ride along the main road, Rhis with her tiranthe worn over her back in the style of a traveling harper. They were all dressed alike now, in high-waisted cotton-linen blouses, worn over split skirts of a brown or blue so dark it seemed black. The sleeves were loose in the Damatran style. The clothes were pretty much like what they saw girls and women around them wearing. At night, while Rhis and Shera practiced singing, Shera making up tricky harmonies that actually sounded pretty good—if not (she was the first to admit) up to court standards. Yuzhyu tried complicated rhythms on her little hand drum. Dartha danced, and one
woman sewed a Damatran headdress for Taniva, who had taken off her distinctive riding boots. They were instantly recognizable to anyone who had met Taniva. Instead she went barefoot, something Rhis both admired and envied. Elda had never permitted her to step outside without proper princess shoes.

  The last day, Dartha, who had nimble fingers, braided crimson piping into all their hair, creating multiple braids. She made them extra tight so they wouldn’t have to trouble about their hair for a few days. Then they all bathed in a cold stream (which was very unpleasant, but certainly woke one up) and folded away their dirty clothes into their saddlebags.

  Rhis’s scalp pulled and she kept wanting to touch the parts in her hair and the tight braiding outlining her skull. But she couldn’t. Taniva had warned them that fingers in their hair would signal to anyone who looked that they weren’t used to wearing their hair like local girls.

  Rhis’s new clothes were loose and a little scratchy, made with a rough linen blended with cotton, instead of the silks and polished cotton fine-cloth she was used to wearing next to her skin. But she liked the outfit—it moved freely.

  As they got into line to ride over that vast bridge, after Taniva had been giving them details on what to expect, Shera finally asked, “How do you know so much about Damatras? I mean, you said you were here before, but aren’t these folk your enemies?”

  Taniva told them cheerily how it was a requirement for chieftains’ sons and daughters to make one raid before they could ride the plains as heirs. “I am king’s daughter. I must make mine a raid for kings and queens, do you see? So I lie up in the mountain above the waterfall, over there, and watch for a week. They never see me because I move around at night. Then I find my way in.” She smacked her hands together. “And when I am in, it is easy enough to find where king and family have rooms. Not so easy to get past guard, but I found good disguise. So snick-snack! I take Jarvas’s ceremony knife. Very old. He does not take it on training rides.”

  Rhis gasped. “That knife with the blue jewels on the handle?”