Dark Jenny

NINETEEN

I followed Spears through the corridors of Blithe Ward. Everyone we met immediately dropped to one knee. Spears motioned for one man to walk with us and spoke to him rapidly in their shared native language. The man rushed off to whatever task Spears gave him.

None of this slowed Spears down. He strode with such purpose that I had to work to keep up, and as a result I missed lots of no doubt interesting details. Many paintings and weapons were on the walls, and I wondered if they were souvenirs or mere decorations.

I did pause when we passed through the armory. The way the polished bits of protective gear and bladed weapons reflected lamplight made the room look like a golden treasure chamber. Each glossy piece, its straps and linings long repaired from the days of battle, hung neatly with its fellows, ready should the master of the house need them again. Some of the weapons I’d never seen before, and was unsure exactly what they did.

One item brought me up short, though: a magnificent two-handed broadsword hung point-down on the wall, an altar beneath it with two candles burning. The blade gleamed like quicksilver, the hilt was wrapped in supple-looking black leather, and the pommel sported an enormous ruby. Nothing marred its reflective surfaces. It looked, in fact, the way I’d expected Belacrux to look.

I didn’t even realize I’d stopped until Spears cleared his throat from the doorway.

I nodded at the sword. “What’s the story behind this one?”

He thought about it a moment, then shrugged. “It’s not a secret. This is Arondite. My father’s sword, and his father’s, going back as far as anyone knows.”

“It’s something,” I said sincerely. I’d seen a lot of beautiful swords forged only for display, and a lot of ugly ones created simply to kill. This one combined the best of both.

“You have a good eye,” Spears said with a hint of pride. “They say one of my forefathers first used it to rid my homelands of a rampaging giant that was decimating the population. It was made from a metal that fell from the sky, cooled in the blood of a dozen virgins, and struck by lightning when it was first held aloft.”

“Do you actually use it?”

“Oh, yes. When I need the certainty of a weapon that will never fail.”

“Will you use it against Gillian?”

“I have no intention of fighting Tom. My foe is not my brother knight. Whatever is behind this, its goal is clearly to sow dissent, and we must close ranks against it.”

I noted his use of the word it instead of him or her, but didn’t comment. He was clearly as circumspect as he was lethal. I gazed at the other combat-related objects. “You’ve got quite an arsenal here. Do you know how to use all these things?”

“Of course.”

“You still practice?”

“Every day. I can’t slow the process of aging, but I can make sure that I compensate for my weaknesses as they appear. When I lose a bit of speed in a thrust, I start using a longer blade. That sort of thing.”

I shook my head. “I have to say, I’m impressed. You live up to your reputation.”

He smiled, a slight and sad expression that carried more weight than it should have. “No one could live up to my reputation, Mr. LaCrosse. In many ways it saves me a lot of trouble, because it does half my job for me. But one day I know I’ll encounter a sword or a mace or an arrow with my name on it. Dying of old age is not really an option.”

I could think of nothing to say to that. I looked over a large shield painted with a row of red griffins against a wavy red background. The image was chipped and dented in places, and one strap end had torn free. Whatever had happened to it, the damage was apparently more important than using it again. “No restoration for this?”

He chuckled. “No. I fought ten men that day, all at once. Good men at arms. I slew them all. I keep this as a reminder that my greatest day is behind me, and that every victory since then has been by the grace of fate. Or luck.”

He ran a finger along the edge of the shield. “But enough of the past. Grand Bruan’s new enemy is very much of the present, and I must address it. Come along.”

I trailed him through more hallways and doors until at last we emerged into the well-lit stables. By lamplight, pages and grooms attended the various animals; my borrowed horse gleamed from a fresh brushing in one of the stalls. Elaborate saddle blankets and snake-smooth tack hung neatly on the walls, an equine version of the armory. The boys chatted among themselves until they noticed us and fell silent. They bowed as we passed them, then resumed their diligent work. Doesn’t anybody slack off on this island? I wondered.

Spears spoke to the stableboy who’d first greeted me, again in their common language. The boy listened and gave a flying nod as he ran off.

A four-wheeled wagon, worn with use and age, waited with two horses already hitched to it. Spears turned to me. “Good, it’s ready. This wagon will help you blend in with the locals a bit more. Although your clothes could be problematic. Not too many local farmers wear a suit from court, even one as battered as yours.”

“Do you have peasant clothes just hanging around for emergencies?”

“No, and it would take too long to find some. Ah, well, it should be fine. I sent Jack to fetch the map with directions and to tell Jenny we’re waiting.”

“What do I do when I get her to Kern’s?”

“Tell him the situation. Hold nothing back. Make sure Jenny is safe and comfortable. I think at that point you may consider your duties discharged. By then I will have established the queen’s innocence and hopefully ferreted out the hand behind all this.”

And explained to Gillian why he doesn’t have to track me down and kill me? I thought but didn’t ask. “You still say it can’t be Medraft?”

“No,” Spears said with certainty. “But if he is involved, a logical culprit suggests itself.”

“His mother, the king’s sister?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny. If I am right, I will deal with it. If I am wrong, I don’t want to add to the web of gossip.”

Spears walked to the stable doors and looked out into the night. He cut a dashing figure even lost in thought. It couldn’t be easy to be the top sword in town; I wondered how many challengers he faced in a given year, all hoping to be the man who slew Elliot Spears. Eventually one would be, and he knew that. That had to weigh on him.

“When I first came to this island, Mr. LaCrosse, in the middle of Marc’s wars of unification, this house looked nothing like it does now. The insides were raided bare, the grounds overgrown, and a clan of near-cannibal brigands used it as a base to waylay travelers. In the countryside I saw farms burned, dead men’s legs protruding from ponds, and livestock rotting by the side of the road. Nobody dared go out in public after dark. The land was ugly and scarred.”

“It’s better now.”

“Yes, it’s better.” But he said it sadly, as if he didn’t believe it was real.

“May I ask you something?”

He nodded.

“Why did you come?”

“I came to fight. I stayed to help build… this.” He gestured at the world beyond the stable. “A land where the next generation might never know the sound of sword striking in anger against armor. Tell me, where are you from?”

“Arentia,” I said guardedly. It was true, but I didn’t like talking about myself.

“A fine country. The young king seems to know how to rule well. But then, he inherited a stable land from his father. Marc did not. He forged it with his will and his blood.” Spears smiled again, wistfully. “And mine also. That is why I stay.”

“Not for Jennifer?”

“Jenny,” he corrected with a smile. “Not at first. But now, she is linked inextricably with the dream.”

He turned and bellowed a loud order. Instantly the boys stopped what they were doing and ran out into the night, whooping and hollering. Spears smiled after them. “They do their jobs so well, sometimes I forget they are still children. I must remember to dismiss them early more often.”

I nodded in their direction and asked, “Do they know about Jennifer? I mean, Jenny?”

“They know she is the lady of the house, and that she is…” He paused as he sought the right word. “Reticent?”

“Shy,” I suggested.

“Yes, that’s it, shy. Since none of them are likely to ever meet Queen Jennifer, the resemblance is not an issue.”

“Drake never visits?”

“He intends to, on occasion. The queen always finds a way to dissuade him. She has as much to lose as we do.”

“It’s funny. You trust me because Drake says so, and yet you’re trusting me with things he doesn’t know.”

Spears looked at me with that cold warrior look. “I’m trusting you, Mr. LaCrosse, because I have no choice.”

Before I could say more, Jenny emerged from the same passage. Her hair was down and hung in waves close to her face. She wore a floppy, sweat-stained hat with a wide brim. Her dress was simple and threadbare. Her eyes were red from crying, but there were no tears now. She carried a canvas bag and, more gloriously, a basket laden with food. “I couldn’t help noticing you seemed a bit peckish,” she told me wryly.

I tore off a piece of fresh, oven-warm bread. “I apologize in advance for my lack of table manners,” I said as I chewed.

“There’s no table,” she said, her smile widening.

When I finished, I tossed her bag into the back of the wagon. A puff of dust and a few sprigs of hay bounced in response. The horses shuffled in place.

“Nice disguise,” I said to her, then gestured at my own dusty but expensive clothes. “I’m not exactly dressed as a farmer, though.”

“It won’t matter,” Spears said. “It’s night, and the roads are safe. Between here and Kern’s place, no one will bother you.”

Jenny climbed onto the wagon seat. She neither asked nor waited for help from either of us. She arranged her battered dress as if it were court finery. The boy Jack returned, and Spears gave me the map. “This will get you to Kern. He will probably act like he expected you; he’s that way.”

“Is he a wizard, like they say?” I asked through my second bite of bread.

“He likes to provoke. His wisdom is considerable, and he is able to see into the hearts of men to a degree that might well be magic. But he primarily enjoys keeping people off-balance.”

“Should I trust him?”

“Yes.”

I looked over the map, which seemed pretty simple. The route took us about halfway back to Astolat, where we’d turn onto a secondary road that wound through forests and hills. I tucked it inside my coat, then yawned; I’d had about four hours’ sleep in the last day and a half, and it began to wear on me.

“And now, would you excuse us a moment?” Spears said quietly. He cut his eyes toward Jenny, and I nodded.

I wandered to the stable doors. The path beyond them led to a service gate down the hill from the house. This end of Blithe Ward had no visible lights. The trees, shrubs, and shadows provided plenty of opportunities for ambush, but who would dare it under Elliot Spears’s nose?

I wiggled my fingers in their cast, noticing there was more room; the swelling had considerably diminished. I shifted my shoulders, trying to find a position where the new scabbard didn’t seem uncomfortable. It improved my posture, although the sword’s bare-metal pommel kept tapping the back of my head. A nice leather wrapping would make it a lot more bearable.

I glanced behind me. Spears and Jenny were still deep in soft, serious conversation, their faces close.

I yawned again. I didn’t entirely buy the loony tale of identical half sisters; it sounded more like a bedtime story than real life. Whatever its source, though, the resemblance between Queen Jennifer and Jenny was extraordinary. Still, my job was just to make sure this Jennifer got to her destination, after which I’d have a healthy purse and a clear conscience and could decide then what to do about Iris Gladstone.

Eventually they kissed. Spears took the nearest horse by the bridle and led the wagon to the stable door. I climbed onto the seat beside Jenny. “Have a safe trip,” he said to me, but his eyes never left her. “I’ll send word as soon as I can.”

“Yes,” she said firmly.

I took the reins and urged the horses forward. Spears walked beside us to the gate and opened it. Beyond it, the moonlit road stretched into the darkness. Jenny turned and watched the gate close behind us.

For a long time neither of us spoke. I continued to raid the picnic basket until my stomach stopped berating me. We rode west on the same road that brought me here, and the wagon made a lot of noise on the flagstones. A whistling farmer taking home an empty cart passed us headed east, and we exchanged neighborly waves. Finally I said to Jenny, “So who else knows about your… situation?”

I couldn’t see her face in the darkness. “The other Jennifer. Cameron Kern. Elliot, of course.” I could hear the slight smile in her voice. “And now there’s you.”

Abruptly I yanked the reins, halting the wagon. Ahead the road rose up a slight hill, and three riders were silhouetted against the night sky, stopped and apparently conferring. They could’ve just been ordinary locals on their way home-it wasn’t that late, after all-but I was taking no chances. We were at the bottom of the slope, in a pool of shadow beneath a tree; if they hadn’t heard our clattering approach and we didn’t give ourselves away, we should be invisible. To Jenny I whispered, “Be very still.”

The three riders had not moved. Their voices reached us, but not clearly enough to make out. Were they coming our way, or headed toward Astolat?

They finished their conversation and started down the hill at a fast trot. There was no time to jump from the wagon and hide, certainly no chance of turning around and outrunning them. So I did the only thing I could.

I pulled Jenny into my arms and kissed her.

Even at the time, part of me appreciated how rare this moment was. She was a beautiful woman, and when I held her close, I felt the shape of her slender, strong body against me. I was experiencing the same embrace as both Marcus Drake and Elliot Spears; that was some pretty rarefied company.

She strained against me at first, then amazingly began to relax. I felt her lips part slightly, and her arms went around my neck. It became less of a ruse than I intended.

Then one of the riders said from beside us, “What’ve we got here?”

I looked back at them. Shadowed by the tree, I couldn’t make out their faces, which meant they couldn’t see mine or notice how overdressed I was. I said, in what I hoped was a fair approximation of the local country accent, “Do you mind? We’d like a little privacy here.”

I felt a sword tap my cheek. “Don’t get smart, farm boy.”

I spread my hands. It was dark enough they couldn’t tell I was armed. “Hey, whoa, I’m not trying to start any trouble. We’re just out for a ride, you know?”

The next voice both raised my hackles and made my temper wind to the breaking point. It was the sneering, unmistakably broken-nosed whine of Dave Agravaine. “Forget it. We don’t have time. Come on.”

The sword did not move. Then it tapped my cheek playfully. “Too bad, or we’d share her with you. Maybe she’d like a couple of real men.”

“Come on!” Agravaine snarled. It came out Cub ah!

I watched until they disappeared in the distance, back toward Blithe Ward. I heard Jenny draw a breath to speak and quickly touched her lips with my finger. Still watching over my shoulder, I snapped the reins. The horses pulled us up over the hill and into the open, where at least we couldn’t easily be ambushed. I said, “Okay, but speak softly.”

“Elliot would have you gelded for that.”

“I’m sorry, it was all I could think of.”

“Your first impulse in a moment of danger is to kiss the nearest woman?”

“Yes.”

She was silent for a moment. Then she giggled. She choked it off at once, but there was no denying it. After a moment she added, “My experience with kisses has been limited to one man, but yours was not… unpleasant. I wouldn’t make it a habit, though.” She leaned close and gave me a small but deliberate peck on the cheek.

I might’ve blushed. “I wanted them to think we were just local folks out for a good time and completely uninterested in them. And since they were Knights of the Double Tarn, it was definitely the right call.”

“Knights of the Double Tarn?” she gasped.

“Yeah. One was Dave Agravaine, so I assume the others were Cador and Hoel.”

“Why would Knights of the Double Tarn be here?”

“If they don’t know about you, then those particular knights were probably out to ambush Elliot. If somehow they do know about you…”

“Then we have to get to Cameron’s place quickly. Hurry!” She reached across and tried to grab the reins from me.

“Stop that!” I said roughly, and pushed her back. “There’s no reason to panic.” I held her shoulders until she stopped struggling. “Nice to see you worry about your husband,” I snapped.

“Elliot doesn’t need my help,” she said, still shaking. “But if they catch me, if they hurt me, I can’t bear it-”

“Nobody is going to catch you. You may not believe it, but I know what I’m doing. They’re going the other way, and we’ve got a good head start. Now calm down.”

The wagon seat trembled, conveying her shudders. She was totally unlike the other Jennifer, and I realized that the long-ago decision to switch was right. But I also understood why Drake might see it as treasonous betrayal.

I stopped the wagon and took her in my arms again, not as a man takes a woman but as you’d hold a frightened child discovered far from home. I recalled Mary the servant girl trembling on her stool, face battered from Agravaine’s tender care. That made me even more aware of my responsibility. I kept one arm around Jenny’s shoulders and snapped the reins with the other. The sooner I got her to safety, the better. For everyone.