Senrid

by Sherwood Smith

  “—but we call her Kitty.”

  She repressed a sigh. Now it would be awkward if she insisted on a proper bow, and to be called Princess Kitty. Really, when would Leander ever learn?

  Senrid gave Kitty a cheery smile, and she sat down. Up close, Senrid looked her age, his smoky-blue eyes friendly.

  “What put you on the road in this hot weather?” Leander asked.

  Kitty added, “I saw you from the wall. You can see the whole region from up there.”

  Senrid had just taken a big bite of his bread-and-cheese. He swallowed it hastily down, blinked, then said, “At the border somebody told me you people here are kindly disposed toward travelers.”

  “You speak our language perfectly,” Kitty observed. “Though you seem to have an accent.”

  “I happened to encounter a mage,” Senrid said. “Universal Language Spell.”

  Leander whistled. “I’ve been trying to track it down. Or at least learn how it works. Why can we hear the words in our language, but in your own accent?”

  Senrid flicked his fingers outward, almost lost his sandwich, and hastily lowered his hand. “The mage told me you hear the meaning for the words, the magic doesn’t change how you speak.”

  Leander said, “And off-world words don’t seem to translate at all. Odd. So you’re seeking your fortune?”

  “Yes.” Senrid’s smile intensified to a grin before he bent his head and took another bite of sandwich.

  Kitty wondered what was funny about Leander’s question; her brother said, “Did I make a joke?”

  Senrid said, “When you consider that almost nobody who goes out on the road ever finds a fortune, but we seem to like using the phrase. Maybe it’s a metaphor, for seeking one’s goals. Do you think? If so, I hope I find my fortune,” he added.

  Metaphor, Kitty thought. Even Leander didn’t talk like that. “But when you have it, life can still be boring.” Kitty sighed.

  Senrid said, “I take it you don’t have many visitors.”

  “No.” Kitty grinned. “Though we did have a great one, not long ago. She came all the way from Mearsies Heili, and what adventures she’s had! She was lots of fun, but she went home.”

  “Did she find adventure here?” Senrid looked interested.

  “Yes! See, she—uh, Faline Sherwood was her name—well, she’d escaped from those rock-heads to the west of us. Seemed they’d gotten the idea that what is ours belonged to them, and she overheard a plan, and came straight along to tell us, even though she didn’t even know us. And helped us squelch it,” Kitty added. “I wish she could have stayed.”

  “Rock-heads?” Senrid asked.

  “Marloven Hess,” Kitty said, holding her nose and waving her hand as if someone had made a terrible smell. “A land of fatwits and murderers.”

  Leander said, “Are you interested in Marloven Hess?”

  Senrid flicked his hand up. “I’m interested in staying out of trouble. So you don’t advise I travel west, then?”

  “Not unless you want to be killed or something,” Kitty said.

  Leander tossed his napkin down. “I’m done, and should get back to work. If you like, I can give you a tour of the castle,” he offered. He didn’t say before you go, but it was obvious he thought Senrid would be on his way after the meal.

  Senrid flicked a glance from him to Kyale, then said politely, “You seem busy. Kyale, I would like to see what it looks like from the walls.”

  Leander nodded. “Too hot for me up there. I’ll be in the study if anyone needs me.” And he left.

  Senrid gave Kitty his cheery smile. He seemed younger when he smiled, like someone’s little brother. “It’s very kind of you to show me around.”

  “Oh, nothing else to do,” Kitty said, trying not to preen. Even though he was only a boy, she couldn’t help feeling pleased that he’d picked her company over Leander’s. “I’m not like Leander—work, work, work. Boring life! This way.” And as they started out, she added, “Your name is unusual. Which you’d expect from someone not around here. But I keep thinking I’ve heard it before.”

  “Really?” Senrid asked, still cheery. “When? Do you remember?”

  “No, I don’t. Must have been ages ago. Here’s the stairway to the wall.” She ran up the narrow stair. Senrid was right behind her.

  They stepped out, and Senrid walked along the edge, apparently untroubled by the long drop.

  “This is my favorite thinking spot.” Kitty gestured. “You can see in all directions. Much better if it’s a clear day. I think this little hill Crestel is built on is the highest place in the country, except for the Aurum Hills.”

  They looked westward. Then Senrid turned slowly around, scanning in all four directions.

  Kitty, who’d seen the view many times, blinked against the noonday sun, and flipped her damp hair off her neck. “Whew! How about we come out later? It’s much too hot to be here now.”

  “No one else is up here?” Senrid asked.

  Kitty shrugged. “Not unless it’s us. In my mother’s day there were guards all over, but not now.”

  “Where’d they all go?”

  “Leander took the enchantment off them. Most went off to do other things, some left. Some went to Norsunder with my mother.”

  Senrid grimaced. “Norsunder.” He repeated the terrible name in a flat voice.

  Kitty felt the back of her neck twitch, almost a chill, despite the heat. No one liked to think about Norsunder lurking somewhere just outside the world, beyond time and measurable space. They said those who had caused the fall of Old Sartor still dwelled there.

  “Did your mother’s followers choose to go to Norsunder?”

  Kitty’s shoulders hunched up under her ears. “My mother had to go,” she whispered. “She’d made a bargain with for power. They—they came for her, when I broke the spell. I mean this crack in the air opened. We all could see darkness beyond it. She got pulled inside it. It was the only time I have ever seen her afraid, before she vanished.”

  Kitty no longer saw the heat-shimmering, dusty countryside, or even Senrid, as she stared back into the terrible events of the year before. When she looked up, she was so startled by the change in Senrid’s face the memories snapped away.

  Senrid’s eyes were angry, his mouth pressed in a white line—he looked older. Leander’s age, even. But when he saw her expression he grinned, that wide toothy grin, and he was twelve again. “Norsunder,” he said. “We all know it’s bad language to call someone a soul-sucker, but I’ve always wondered if there even is such a thing. Sounds like they can suck an entire person beyond the world, though, doesn’t it?” Kitty shuddered. “I don’t want to think about it.”

  “Why not?” Senrid rubbed his hands over one of the stone crenellations, then gave Kitty a wry look. “You know that your mother could come back. The real horror of Norsunder is not only that they own you if you bargain with them, but they lie beyond time. They could send her back, if they choose.”

  “Leander is afraid of just that. That’s why he studies so much, and—well, I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Senrid opened a hand. “So no one guards your country against attack?”

  “Well, we do. Or Leander does.” The heat was oppressive; she started toward the tower and the stairway down.

  Senrid’s brows rose. “One defender? Your brother must be formidable.”

  Formidable? Kitty crossed her arms. “If you think he’s not very good, guess again.” Delighted with this chance to impress someone, she added loftily, “He got rid of those stupid Marlovens earlier this season, and he didn’t have any army. Only Arel, Alaxander, and some magic. And Faline. He says he doesn’t know enough magic, but personally, if you ask me, I think he knows plenty, and a person can really study too much.”

  “What should he be doing instead?” Senrid asked as they passed through the archway into the tower, where the air was still and musty but somewhat cooler.

  It was also dark after the bright glare, so K
itty couldn’t see her guest. “Oh, learning to act like a king. He’s—” She stopped, realizing that she oughtn’t to criticize Leander in front of a total stranger. “Well, there are plenty of things. Including having fun,” she added, laughing.

  The afternoon passed swiftly. Though Kitty would never have picked a boy as a companion, Senrid turned out to be a good listener. Everything she said he seemed to find interesting.

  Kitty was delighted. She showed him over the nicer parts of the castle; he seemed interested in Leander’s magic study, but she shooed him away. “Leander hates anyone going near his books,” she said. “And anyway he’s probably in there working. Hates to be disturbed.”

  Senrid obediently turned away, and Kitty was relieved. She felt a twinge of guilt at having exaggerated a little, but he was such a good audience, and anyway Leander did have a lot of work to do, and Kitty had nothing. It was too hot to play in the garden, so talking fit her mood.

  With very little prompting she told the whole story of Leander’s accession to the throne and the defeat of her mother, but she told it from her perspective. Senrid put a few questions about things she left out, but those events—having to do with adults, and politics, and magic—held very little interest or importance for her.

  So she firmly brought the subject back to what did interest her: her own experiences. Her kidnapping by Alaxandar, and meeting Leander and his outlaws; how horrid it was living in the forest; how difficult it was to keep pretty gowns clean when you live outdoors where there are no cleaning frames. Senrid asked a question or two that brought her to the final confrontation with Mara Jinea.

  “She’d enchanted people, you see,” Kitty said. “They couldn’t really think for themselves.”

  “Enchanted? How?” Senrid bent forward, listening intently.

  He really was a good audience, Kitty thought, pleased to be regarded as interesting, her words worth listening to. That didn’t happen very often! “It was strange, because I’d gotten used to Mother’s guards, and her servants, and her nobles, all acting so obedient and quiet when she didn’t need them. Smiling—always smiling at me, telling me how clever I was, and how pretty I looked. It turned out that she had put enchantment on them, and it all turned on me.”

  “How did it work?” Senrid asked, leaning his elbows on his knees.

  They sat on hassocks in Kitty’s rarely used parlor. She adored having a parlor of her own—but she rarely got to use it for guests.

  Kitty smiled. “Well, see, she and I wore these black crowns. Obsidian. Leander thought there was magic put on them. Anyway, they kidnapped me because Leander thought I should have a choice between her way of life and ours—well, his, then—then Mother got her people to find us, and there was a fight, but Leander’s people were outnumbered. We got taken back. And she was going to kill Leander, but by then I knew she’d lied to me. Everything she had blamed him for she’d actually done—it was all turned around, all of it. But by then I’d learned that people who use dark magic are selfish, only interested in being cruel and having power. Dark magic, or black magic as some say, it means that magic gets burned up or spent, so it goes out of the world and takes a long time to come back. Like candles going out. Light magic, which is also called white magic, stays in balance, so it doesn’t get spent out of the world.”

  “Leander told you that?”

  “He studies magic, so he knows these things. Light magic mages are good, and protect each other. Black magic mages are evil. Anyway, so I threw down my crown, and that broke the enchantment. It wasn’t the crown, see—I had two or three of them, actually—it was me doing it that was important.”

  Senrid whistled. “So whoever held you held the country.”

  “Yes,” Kitty said, trying very hard to sound careless. “Of course Leander didn’t want those enchantments. He said people deserve freedom of choice.”

  “What if they hadn’t chosen him as king?” Senrid asked, his round face bland, and his eyes steady and interested.

  “He said then we’d travel all around the world and see things. Like you’re doing! But he’d leave behind people free to live the way they wanted, and he’d consider it a good job.”

  Senrid’s lip curled faintly.

  “It’s true,” Kitty protested. “It’s weird, but he was really serious. But then he liked his life as an outlaw.I like being a princess. It was a relief when everyone agreed he was the best to take his father’s place. Even though he’s fifteen, which some think young for a king, he has been learning magic, and he’s responsible.” She sighed. “I think he’s too responsible, but no one asks me.”

  “I don’t think it’s too young to be a king,” Senrid said. “But I can see that adults would.” He gave her a strange, rather sardonic smile.

  She enjoyed the crack against adults, but only mildly so. Mostly she was tired of talking about Leander—having to be diplomatic—and she wanted to get back to her own heroism in standing up to her mother. It was all too rare that someone found her interesting instead of Leander.

  “Would you like to spend the night?” she offered, as a bell donged twice in the distance. “I mean, we have lots of empty rooms. And I can show you so much more tomorrow. Unless you’re eager to get back to the road again.”

  “Too hot for that,” Senrid said. “And everything here is so interesting. I’d like to stay. Thanks.”

  “Good. That was the bell for supper. Go down that hall, take the stairs, and turn right, then right again. I’d show you, but I need to order a room prepared for you, and all that,” she said grandly.

  He turned his palm up in what Kitty took as agreement. Then walked down the hall.

  Kitty raced down by a shortcut, wanting to make certain that the meal would be served in the dining room. Leander was too prone to eat in the kitchen, which Kitty had gotten used to—but not with guests. It would lower their prestige.

  Having spotted the table set and ready, she galloped back up to Leander’s study, and not surprisingly found him there, surrounded by books.

  “Dinner,” she said, when he looked up, his eyes so distant she wasn’t sure he even saw her.

  “Oh. Thanks,” he said. “I’ll be down anon.”

  “Huh,” she retorted. “Shall I have something sent up?”

  “That would be nice,” he said. Then he blinked, adding, “Did Serand continue on his journey?”

  “Senrid.”

  Leander smiled briefly. “Oh. Just as well, I guess; I looked his name up, and I was right, it’s close to the word for buffoon in the Old Language.”

  “But it’s not Serand,” Kitty reminded him.

  Leander frowned slightly. “Senrid. Senrid? I’ve heard that one before, haven’t I? Why do I think it has connotations?”

  “Well, if it meant something rotten in that stupid Old Language, don’t go blabbing it,” she scolded. “Not everyone has your weird hobby about history and old words, and it could lose you friends before you even make any.”

  His gaze wandered over his books, and Kitty sighed and left, knowing he was already distant in thought.

  Senrid was in the dining room, politely waiting for her to join him. Wherever he’d come from, he had very nice manners.

  “Tell me about your home,” she asked as they helped themselves to rice and a tasty fish sauce filled with chopped vegetables.

  He shrugged. “So little to tell. Parents are dead, no siblings. So I decided to travel.”

  “It’s horrid, being an orphan, isn’t it?” Kitty exclaimed. “Not that I really want Mara Jinea back, because she was horrid in a different way. And no siblings either—it’s so lonely. I do have Leander,” she amended in haste. “But I always wanted a sister.”

  “Oh?” he asked politely.

  “Yes,” she said, and continued on to describe, in detail, the sister she had imagined for herself. This sweet, pretty little sister would have adored Kitty, and would want to play all Kitty’s favorite games all day long, and would admire all her favorite gowns.
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br />   Senrid listened without speaking, his round face blandly friendly as they worked their way through dinner and dessert. She took that as interest, and so was in great charity with him when they rose at last.

  “I walked a long way today,” he said. “Would you mind if I retired?”

  “Of course not,” Kitty said, though she was disappointed. She’d looked forward to a long evening of talk, all about her favorite games and stories. But then, she reflected as she showed him upstairs, she had all the next day to look forward to.

  And so she left him in the very best guest suite down the hall from Leander’s and her suites, and then ran downstairs again.

  She reached the kitchen and stopped when she saw her brother there, along with a couple of his old outlaw friends.

  “Oh! I was going to have a tray sent up,” Kitty said. “I almost forgot.”

  “Thanks,” Leander said. “Pertar’s here. Just got back from his ride along the border.” Leander had set up regular scouting trips after the invasion scare.

  “Oh,” Kitty said, losing interest. It had nothing to do with her, so she shrugged and left, thinking that at least Senrid wouldn’t see the king eating in the kitchen with his servants.

  She retired early, but woke when the vines outside her open windows rustled. She sat up, hearing the rush and moan of a great wind.

  A moment later rain thrummed against her windows.

  The weather had changed—quite suddenly.

  Wondering if her guest was all right, Kitty clapped her glowglobes on, flung a silken robe round her, and padded down the hall to Senrid’s room. Light glowed under the door. Was he scared? Did he want company?

  A gentle knock produced no answer.

  She hesitated, then shrugged. If he was asleep, he’d never know she’d peeked in, and she could clap out the lights. If he was awake, he might like company during the storm.

  She eased the door open, tiptoed through the sitting room, and stared into the bedroom. Though the glow-globes all gave light, the rooms were both empty.

  FOUR

  Where could he have gone?