The Duke's Ballad

XIII

Aisling murmured agreement, then looked at the two men.

“Something else occurs to me. We know Kirion was, shall we say, persuading those girls that Shastro wanted to love him, to get them to cooperate. But I’ve seen no signs of that since we arrived.

How willing will Shastro be to give up having the women he wants?”

Hadrann grunted thoughtfully. “Well, the last was young Jedena of Carmorskeep. Shastro wanted her. Jedena preferred a young man of the court, then seemed to change her mind and fall madly in love with our dear ruler. Everyone guessed that had to be Kirion’s influence. The girl lasted quite well, but Shastro tired of her a couple of weeks after you and Keelan got to court. You wouldn’t have noticed the girl much.”

“I haven’t noticed him with anyone.”

“Which, knowing Shastro, means that this time it’s someone willing. Likely some merchant’s daughter who thinks it an honor. He likes to flaunt the noble or unwilling ones far more.”

Keelan shrugged. “But his loves rarely last more than a few months. He’ll be looking for another very soon. What did happen to Jedena?”

“I don’t know. I’ll make inquiries.”

Aisling glanced up. “Leave that to me. I’m lunching with the Lady Varra. She’s the biggest gossip in Kars as we all know. I have only to get her onto the right subject to hear everything she has heard or suspects.” She grinned. “And if she doesn’t know about Jedena, then no one will. I’ll take her a fox fur and a pair of the hare furs. After that she’ll talk all day if I am prepared to sit and listen.”

She disappeared to change her garb and reappeared an hour later carrying the furs. She blew a kiss to both men and hurried out of the door. Her return was unnoticed some three hours later. Her companions were engaged in a hard-fought game of fox and geese. Ais-ling hung over them watching until the game resolved. Hadrann had beaten his friend, and they became lost in further discussion on strategy. Aisling waited, but when it showed no sign of abating, she coughed. They looked up.

“I think assassins are about to be hunting our dear duke again.” That brought swift concentrated attention from Hadrann and her brother.

“By whom?”

“Jedena’s father.”

Hadrann stared, then looked grim. “I can guess the rest. The girl’s killed herself. Where and how?”

“Varra only heard yesterday. From some relative who lives near Carmorskeep and knows the lord and his lady there. I think Varra writes to every relative she has. It’s no wonder she has a bevy of servants; she needs them to take all her letters,” Aisling added.

“Never mind Varra’s servants. What about Jedena?”

“Well, according to Varra the girl left court and went home once Shastro tired of her. Apparently they had a fight before she went, and the duke said that he never wanted to see her again; that she was a bore, and he was tired of her. The girl went back to her keep, poured out everything to her mother, then went up to her room, apparently to sleep for the night, and hanged herself instead.

“Her father isn’t sure exactly what went on, but he believes one of three things. That Jedena refused the duke, who had Kirion twist the girl’s mind into compliance. With her mind twisted, even when Shastro fell out of love, Jedena couldn’t, so she hanged herself for her lost love or she killed herself in despair at what she’d been made to do. Or the duke seduced Jedena, then threw her over so brutally the girl felt she had nothing more to live for. Whichever way it was, the old man blames Shastro. According to Varra, he’s breathing fire and threats.”

“Ineffectual ones,” Keelan commented. “I seem to remember Carmorskeep is poor. It’s a week’s travel away by coach at this time of year too, and the roads will soon be impassable by that method. The old man will probably rant and rave awhile, then it will all blow over. But how stupid of Kirion not to have taken the love spell off the girl. He could have done that and blurred her mind or something. Made Jedena believe she’d been in love but had fallen out of it like Shastro.”

Hadrann was looking serious. “There’s more to it than that, Kee. Jedena was keep heir. She was the only child. Carmorskeep looks to the Coast Clan. Worse still, its lady is close kin to Franzo, and the keep is actually hers, not her husband’s, which is why Jedena would have inherited. Under clan law and with the heir dead, keep lord and lady must choose an heir from amongst the clan. There’s very little doubt who they’ll choose.”

“Who?” Aisling was interested. “And why will that affect things?”

“The who is a boy named Lorel. The why is because he is Franzo’s youngest son. Franzo and Carmorskeep’s lady are half brother and sister. They’ve always been close. He’ll be deeply distressed over young Jedena’s suicide and just as upset to see his sister’s grief. Knowing Franzo, if or once his son is formally named as heir, he’ll feel he should avenge Jedena’s death. He’s been at the gates of Kars with an army once already. I think he could be back here in spring with another.”

“In spring?”

“Franzo was a professional soldier. He won’t be silly enough to start anything at the beginning of winter.”

Aisling stood, stretching. Wind Dancer chirruped from his seat beside her, and she stooped to stroke him. Her mind received a clear picture as her fingers touched. It was overlaid with a hopeful wistful-ness. She straightened, her face lighting suddenly.

“Wind Dancer’s just asked why we have to spend winter here? Let’s go home, back to Aiskeep. Hadrann, you’d be welcome to come with us. Oh, Kee, let’s go home. I miss Aiskeep so much. I want to see Grandmother and Grandfather again. I want to see our friends. I want to laugh and not feel that someone is always watching in the walls in case I say something treasonous. I want to be me again.” She drew the word out in a soft humming hunger. “Hoooommme. Let’s go hooomme!”

Keelan groaned. “Aisling. Yes. I miss Shosho and everything else you said too. If we left in the morning we could be back in a few days.” He turned to his friend. “You could come with us. Go on and stay with your father awhile then return, whatever you wanted. But I know we’d be very happy if you spent time at Aiskeep.”

Hadrann was considering. “I could spend a couple of days, but my father’s old. He’d like to see more of me than he does. I’ll ride with you, stay three days, then go on to Aranskeep for the winter. Maybe I can come back in spring before you leave, and we can ride back to Kars together.”

Aisling had walked to the door to call the guard. “Find my maid please, tell her she is required. Start getting ready in the stables. We plan to leave for our keeps in the morning.” She shut the door and looked at them. “One other thing. Who tells Shastro he’s losing us for the winter?”

Hadrann grinned. “You can. Give him that speech about how much you miss your home. He’s sentimental.”

Aisling’s answering smile was rueful. “Just as long as he isn’t sentimental about us staying in Kars.” She went to change into a more formal robe. That was something else she’d enjoy about being home: it would no longer be necessary to change her clothes for almost everything she did. Court etiquette required clothing that ranged from casual to very formal and the appropriate level of garb for each occasion. Aisling was bored with it all.

In Aiskeep she could spend the day in riding clothes if she wished. There was no need to dress for breakfast, change to ride, change for lunch, change to spend time with an acquaintance, change for the evening meal, and change yet again for a later court revel—and that was a minimum, she thought. If you did more, you had to change more. She could recall days when she’d had to change her clothing as often as every second hour of the entire day. She bit back a groan as she flung off her robe and reached for a formal gown. Cup and Flames but she wanted to be home again.

Her maid pattered hastily in, and Aisling was caught up further in trying to dress, do her hair, and give orders all at the same time. The maid’s face fell as soon as she understood she’d be unemployed over winter. Aisling understood the look. She made a quick estimate as she brushed out her hair. She flicked a glance about their suite and asked a question.

“You also help Lady Hirrisyn. Does she remain in Kars over the winter months?” The girl nodded. “Then you will spend the winter with less to do.” She saw the girl’s lips thin in annoyance. What good was more time if you had no money to enjoy the time? In winter the palace would be chill. With no money to buy fuel, the maid would be cold and damp. Aisling continued, and as the maid listened her face lit with pleasure.

“I know what it will be like here in winter,” Aisling was saying. “I want you to do us a favor. We will be leaving many of our possessions here in the Aranskeep suite, as will the Lord Keelan, my cousin’s friend. If you will stay here, keep the suite warmed and cared for, we will leave money with the fuel merchant. We will pay you one third of your usual wages for the time we are away. I will give you half of that before I leave; the other half I will leave with the Lady Varra to be given to you the day before midwinter.”

She watched the maid’s happiness. “Is that satisfactory?” The girl was nodding before the question was completed. She’d be warm and comfortable in a noble’s suite all winter. She’d have less coin, but she wouldn’t have to pay for fuel either and she could let her rented room go for the time. She would be doing half her usual work and in the end she’d have as much coin as if she were caring for both ladies. Moreover if she made a good bargain with the fuel merchant they could both slip a few coins extra from the lady’s purse. Aisling understood all that.

Aisling had grown up in a keep. She knew the economies of a maid’s life. The girl would have a wonderful winter. Aisling would have to remember to give Varra the money for the maid. She would also leave the girl a small midwinter gift to be given with the coin. She finished her hair with the maid’s help. Then she sat and scribbled briefly before reaching for sealing wax and her ring. She turned, offering the sealed note.

“Here. This says what I have asked you to do. It says you have the right to be here caring for our rooms while we are gone. If anyone disputes that show them this letter. To make sure you are safe I will leave a copy with the Lady Varra. Go to her if you need and, in any case, for your payment before midwinter.” The elderly Varra would enjoy helping. She adored having a finger in any pie.

Aisling swept out, leaving her maid beaming and clutching her letter. Shastro was not so happy. He whined and complained. He would be lonely without her. The palace was always dull over the winter. His companions bored him. Aisling snorted.

“You’ll be surrounded with sycophants all competing for your attention; you’ll hardly notice my absence.” Shastro grinned, the truth for once amusing him.

“I’ll notice. There won’t be anyone among them who says the things you do or who dares beat me soundly at fox and geese, but go.” He looked oddly sad for a moment. “I understand your wish to spend time at your home. Once I would have wished to go home. Now there is no home for me and nothing any longer to wish for and no one else I may trust for the truth.” He forced a smile. “Be safe. I will send some of my guards with you to Aranskeep if you like?”

“To Aiskeep only if it please you, my Lord.” Aisling spoke quickly. The last thing she wanted was to be forced to ride on past her home. “Keelan has asked my cousin and me to stay a few days there before we continue. His grandfather will send keep guards with us after that.”

“Very well. To Aiskeep then.” He kissed her hand gently. “Go safely and return in spring.” He sighed theatrically. “Long will the winter be without you, my Lady.”

Aisling snorted in disbelief. “You’ll have dances and revels all winter, and there’s the midwinter celebrations: masques, ice-skating, and dancing. By spring you’ll have a new love most probably. I’ll arrive back, and you’ll say, ‘Oh, were you away? I hadn’t noticed.’”

Shastro laughed. “Away with you, you insulting woman. I do not forget my friends so easily. Any light love of mine will still never do as you do.” Again she saw that flicker of sadness as his hand closed. “You speak the truth to me; you treat me as a friend, not as your duke. I value it. Come back safely, and I swear I’ll notice you’ve returned.”

Aisling smiled gently. “And I swear I shall come back. Take care of yourself, my Lord. Tell your guards we leave mid-morning.” She bowed and hurried off to speak privately to her companions.

She had noticed something very interesting that they should hear. She found them at the stables with their hired guard. With Shastro’s arrangements explained and the hired guards paid off but engaged again for spring, Aisling was free to link arms and walk the men to the Aranskeep suite, where they found Wind Dancer asleep on a seat in the main room.

Once the door was shut Aisling checked quickly. The pendant’s mists swirled about her, as she listened with her mind for any who might be about, but the passages within the walls were empty. Her hand went out to stroke Wind Dancer’s soft fur.

“Listen for any spy in the secret passages. Let me know if you hear anything suspicious.”

Then she removed from its shelf the small carved cat charm Shastro had given her and held it, looking down on the object thoughtfully before looking up to catch their gazes in return.

“You remember Shastro kept the other of these trinkets. Well, all the time I was talking to him he was playing with it. And he was… strange, twice. He spoke of not being able to go home again and that if he did there was nothing there to wish for any longer. He said he’d miss me, that I was the only one left to tell him the truth.” She looked up from the trinket. “I think he was remembering his cousins.”

“That’s more than likely.” Hadrann said. “I’ve seen him play with that amethyst several times of late. I saw Kirion noticing it once. I don’t think he liked it. There’s been gossip too that Kirion doesn’t spend as much time at court as he used to before this season. I’ve noticed that since we gave Shastro the trinkets and something to consider, Kirion’s hardly been seen. I’ll be glad to be out of this place for the winter. I have a feeling this may be blowing up to a storm.”

Aisling shivered. “I have the same feeling, but not in Kars, surely. There hasn’t been real war in the city since the Sulcar sailed in and burned half the docks and warehouses there. Even Franzo backed off from an attack before.”

Keelan’s expression was hard. “That doesn’t mean it can’t happen. Our guards were talking to some of the others from along the coast. They say Jedena’s father and mother are taking the girl’s death very badly. They’ve announced Franzo’s son as the Carmorskeep heir. They seem to be pushing for the formal ceremony to be completed as fast as possible. And I wonder,” he paused. “I wonder if they don’t want the lad in place as heir before they do something else, and there’s only so many other things that something else could be.”

“Franzo?”

Hadrann shook his head. “We don’t know, Aisling. But Shastro should have remembered that other people besides him love their kin. Franzo isn’t a hothead. He isn’t likely to attack over the Jedena business, but if anything more occurs, then I wouldn’t depend on him staying out of it. His clan will want him to lead them in any attack, and he’ll obey. If he’s given a more personal motive he might insist on acting anyhow. He isn’t a hothead but he isn’t stone either.”

He left it at that and was soon caught up in packing and choosing what he would take. Keelan had vanished to his own suite and was sorting rapidly. Most of his clothing could be moved to the Aranskeep rooms to be kept aired and dry there. It had been a good idea of Aisling’s to use the maid. Everyone worked briskly for the afternoon. They spent a last evening at court. Aisling danced once with the duke and a number of times with other acquaintances.

The morning was good, not hot nor too chill but calm and clear. By the tenth candlemark they were away. Aisling had firmly rejected the coach. The horses could not drag it swiftly. The roads were becoming muddy, and in places holes were forming under the growing drifts of snow. They would travel quicker and more easily riding horses and with their gear on sturdy pack ponies. Shastro’s guards agreed. They would have to ride back in worsening weather. The faster they reached Aiskeep the faster the guards could return.

The party clattered out and down the road at a brisk canter. Wind Dancer slept curled in his carrysack against Aisling’s shoulders, much to the amusement of the guards. Shastro had provided six guards, all arrayed in the screaming purple and gold uniforms that shouted their status. No bandit would be stupid enough to attack anything or anyone marked so clearly as the duke’s. Shastro had a reputation for resenting hands laid on his friends or property. Anyone who did lay hands on such was likely to draw back bloody stumps.

Aisling was thinking of that as she rode the last miles to Aiskeep mid-morning six days later. The duke knew his reputation, knew that few would be that bold or that stupid, and he’d cared for his cousins. They were traveling with only a driver but still, knowing Shastro, they’d have been marked as his in some way. Probably the carriage doors bore his crest. The driver would likely have been in the duke’s colors, and Shastro would wonder, would always have wondered, who would attack what was his.

Her hand went to her waist-pouch and she felt the shape of the little cat. What had the duke’s cousins been like? Fair, dark? The guards rode spread out. Two ahead and behind. Another one each scouting far ahead and trailing the party far to the rear. None could hear her. She nudged her mount to range alongside Hadrann’s horse and asked her question.

“You saw Shastro’s cousins. What did they look like?”

“I never saw them alive but I heard.”

“Well?”

“The boy was slender, not tall but wiry, blond but that tawny shade with a faint hint of red, and he had blue eyes. The girl was slender, with long blonde hair, quite a pale color, an oval face, and dark blue eyes. Not beautiful but pretty and with plenty of character in her face. She wore pale soft colors a lot; so did the boy. Is that what you wanted?”

“Yes.” She allowed her mount to move away. The trinkets had been a vanity in one way. The amethyst would have shown well against a blonde. The small cat, she suspected, would have been a contrast to the boy’s hair. She wondered why both trinkets had been with the girl. Perhaps it was she who carried them for safety when they traveled or for luck. Or perhaps she was wrong, and the girl had always owned both small trinkets.

But Hadrann had confirmed something she’d observed before. Men often sought out loves similar to their first. The men Shastro most often befriended were wiry in build and blue eyed. The women he chose as lovers were always blonde, slender, and young and most had eyes of dark blue. If he had loved his cousins enough to seek out only lovers or friends who reminded him of his lost kin, then he’d loved them indeed.

For a moment she felt tears sting her eyes. Shastro had sounded almost forlorn as he bade her good-bye. And he was fond of her, that she knew. He did not desire her but he enjoyed her companionship and the time they spent talking together. Surely he might yet be reclaimed for the Light? Then she remembered the old woman he’d had tortured. He’d believed she’d be interested to see the ghastly spectacle, but perhaps she could teach him differently? She didn’t want him as a lover, but if she wed him perhaps it would help Karsten. And perhaps not, a harder part of her mind said. Where would she be if she failed?

She wondered now if… speculation disappeared in a sudden blaze of joy. Keelan was yelling as they rounded the bend to the last stretch of road. Ahead she could see the walls of Aiskeep. She bit down on the desire to scream and shout with her brother. The duke’s guards must not be surprised at how pleased she was to see a keep supposedly foreign to her. It would be so good to be home and free of that kind of caution.

She could hear Keelan’s shouts echoing back. “Open, in the name of the heir. Open the gates.”

And old Harran’s welcome acid tones. “All right lad, all right. I’m old but I’m not deaf yet.” She pulled up in front of the gates as they swung back slowly. From the corner of her eye she saw the amused looks the guards were casting about. Keelan was shouting back upward.

“You sure you aren’t deaf? These gates need oiling; you don’t seem to have heard that?”

“I heard, I heard. What about you doing something around here. I’m an old man. I can’t do everything.”

“Why not, you’ve always said you did it all before,” Keelan retorted at full volume. His target spluttered. Keelan started to laugh, Aisling giggled helplessly, and Hadrann and the guards joined in. Old Harran spat in disgust.

“Humph! You get in here before bandits come looking to see who’s making all that noise. We can’t afford no ransom not even what they’d ask once they got a good look at yer.” Still grinning Keelan rode through the now fully opened gates. The guard captain turned to Hadrann.

“Lord, there’s half a day yet and an inn within reach by nightfall if we ride hard. It would save us a day on the journey back to Kars. Give us leave to go.”

Hadrann reached for his pouch and pressed coins into the captain’s hand. “You’d be welcome to stay the night here I know, but if you wish to go we won’t delay you. Thank you for your care.” The man accepted the coin and bowed slightly.

“Thank you, my Lord. We decided earlier. We will ride back now and be in Kars the quicker.” He reined his mount back to join the others who waited. He spoke briefly, and seconds later they were riding northward.

Hadrann rode through the massive gates to join Aisling and Keelan where they had dismounted. Wind Dancer had jumped from his carrysack and was prancing eagerly about. The horses were taken away, and it was Aisling who ran toward the door first. It opened, and within stood two familiar figures. She embraced them both, hugging and almost weeping her joy.

Ciara was practical. “I can’t greet you properly, dearling. Let us rid you of that shape first.” They linked, and “cousin Murna” melted away to be replaced by Aisling’s laughing face.

“That’s better.” Wind Dancer trilled, and she smiled. “Him too, he says.” They dispelled the big cat’s disguise, and he bounced merrily. Aisling stooped to hug him and straightened.

She looked at the beloved faces of her grandparents and allowed brief tears to fall. This was what Shastro had lost and now sought in every light love. This she had missed every day at the court, where all was false and smiles hid hatred or fear. This was her place no matter how far she went or how long she was gone. Home. She was home again.