Reader And Raelynx

CHAPTER 4

CAMMON saw the princess and straightaway stopped worrying about anybody else.

Senneth ushered him into a room he had never seen before, much smaller than most of the grand salons that made up the palace. It was on the second floor, tucked behind a stairwell and overlooking the back part of the compound, the walled gardens and lightly wooded acres. There was a feminine feel to it, for all the hangings were in soft pinks and deep creams, and cold sunlight poured in through the tall windows.

Valri was sitting in a striped chair, her hands folded in her lap and her expression grave. It wasn’t just her black hair and midnight-blue gown that gave her an impression of darkness; she seemed pooled with tension and gloom. By contrast, Amalie, standing and smiling down at the queen, radiated light. She was still wearing her gold dress and her red-gold hair was unbound. She stood in the sunshine and seemed to be made of some burnished and beautiful element.

“Majesties,” Senneth said, and curtseyed. Cammon echoed her with a clumsy bow.

Amalie flew across the room, put her hands on Cammon’s shoulders, and kissed him on the cheek.

He forgot everything else.

“Cammon!” the princess exclaimed, stepping back a little but keeping one hand on his sleeve. “Thank you for saving my father’s life! What would have happened if you hadn’t been there? I can’t bear to think about it.”

“Well, I was there,” was all he could think to say, and it sounded idiotic. He beamed down at her.

“And thank all the gods for that,” she replied warmly.

Senneth moved between them with apparent carelessness, but Cammon knew she did it on purpose. Amalie dropped her hand. “What would have happened is that the assassin would have pulled his knife and leapt for the king, and your uncle Romar would have interfered, and probably killed the man, and the commotion would have brought the Riders in, and your father might have been wounded but he would not have died.”

“You can’t know that,” Amalie said.

“No,” said Senneth, “but that is truly what I believe. Come, shall we sit down?”

They pulled chairs up next to Valri, all of them wanting to bask in the sunlight. The dark queen said, “I admit, I was surprised to see the regent pull a sword. I thought only Riders were allowed weapons inside the palace walls.”

Senneth smiled. “Yes, but Lord Romar is a swordsman, and a good one, too, and his loyalty is beyond question. So, he is allowed to bear arms.”

“I wish we could simply close up the palace and never speak to another soul,” Valri said. “Keep everybody safe within its walls.”

“Hardly an effective way to govern,” Senneth said gently.

“And now we are to have a parade of suitors vying for Amalie’s hand, and every last one of them will be lying about something, and we shall have to be on our guard every single hour of every single day,” the queen said bitterly. “I spent all of last summer afraid for her life, and now I shall have to be afraid all over again.”

Cammon was interested to see that it was Amalie who leaned forward to offer comfort. Amalie was only six or seven years younger than her stepmother, and the bond between them appeared to be very tight. Sometimes last summer Cammon had been unsure who was the stronger, though. Amalie was so fresh and unspoiled, and Valri so intense.

“Don’t be afraid, Valri,” Amalie said in her soft voice. “We have friends around us night and day. We are as safe as anybody can be.”

THEY conferred for maybe an hour, Cammon and the three women who were now, apparently, going to direct his life. Truth to tell, he didn’t add much to the conversation, just sat there feeling a peculiar sense of satisfaction. It was as if the strength of their personalities warmed him as much as the sunshine did, filled him with a similar kind of glow. Senneth and Valri discussed what Cammon should wear, what he might expect to hear when serramar came calling, how often they should meet to strategize. And then, as if they could not help themselves, they began speculating on which heirs from which Houses might make the best match for the princess.

“If only your brother Will wasn’t set to marry Casserah Danalustrous!” the queen exclaimed. “Think what a good match Brassenthwaite would be for the throne!”

Senneth shook her head. “I can think of nothing, at this moment, more likely to cause discord in the realm. Already Halchon and Rayson believe Brassenthwaite is too powerful, and such a marriage would probably convince a few other Houses to join their cause. No, we need to wed her someplace where the alliance will do us most good.”

“Coravann, perhaps,” Valri said. “Heffel Coravann has a son who is about Amalie’s age.”

Senneth nodded. “I have been thinking a good deal about Ryne Coravann. Heffel wants to remain neutral in this war-if there is a war-but a wedding with royalty would most definitely swing him to our side. And Coravann is a strategic ally. So close to the Lirrenlands, on good terms with both Gisseltess and Nocklyn, and yet not such a powerful House that the marlords would rise up in protest.”

“But marlord Heffel is a friend to Coralinda Gisseltess,” Cammon protested. It was his first contribution to the conversation in at least twenty minutes. “Don’t you remember? He invited her to his ball last summer. He worships the Pale Mother. Aren’t you afraid that his son might be a fanatic?”

That caused them all to fall quiet for a moment and think. Coralinda Gisseltess led the order known as the Daughters of the Pale Mother, and she and all her followers feared and hated mystics. Like her brother, Halchon, she wanted to remake Gillengaria-but her main goal was to see mystics burned at the stake and every scrap of magic eradicated from the land.

“It’s true that Heffel reveres the Pale Mother,” Senneth said slowly. “But I would not hold that against him-you can be a good man and still love the moon goddess. What concerns me more is that he does not seem to realize how dangerous Coralinda is. Yet, Heffel is not a fool. I do not believe he could be tricked into battle by either Coralinda or her brother. I do not believe he will ever take up arms against the king.”

“I danced with Ryne a few times when we were at Coravann Keep,” Amalie said.

“What did you think of him?” Valri asked.

Amalie shrugged. “Well, he was drunk both times, and he knew that made his sister angry, and that made him laugh,” she said. “I thought he was charming but not very-very-” She shrugged.

“Not very princely,” Valri said in a severe voice.

“He’s only seventeen or eighteen, I believe,” Senneth said.

Valri gestured. “Cammon’s only twenty, isn’t he, and he’s far more responsible than Ryne! Or so it appears.”

“Well, then, let us look at our other options,” Senneth said.

Cammon couldn’t help himself; he rolled his eyes. He had heard Senneth and Kirra keep up such talk for hours, discussing bloodlines and alliances with an obsessive interest. Amalie caught his expression and grinned.

“It’s very boring, isn’t it?” she said, leaning over to whisper in his ear. The others could still hear her, of course, and Valri flicked her a look of some annoyance, but the older women continued their discussion anyway. “This very topic forms the chief subject of conversation whenever I’m in the room, and I can’t bear it.”

“I would think it would interest you, if only a little,” he replied. “After all, they’re talking of the man you’re going to marry. I’d be interested if people were trying to figure out who should be my wife.”

Amalie glanced at Valri, glanced at Senneth, and stood up, pulling Cammon to his feet. “Let’s go talk of something else,” she said.

Valri briefly broke off her sentence. “Don’t leave the room,” she said.

“We won’t. Over here, Cammon, let me show you some of my treasures.”

They crossed the room to where a tall, cream-colored bookshelf held an array of boxes and bowls. Amalie pulled a box from a middle shelf. It was made of some dark and highly polished wood, and it opened when a hidden door slid out. Inside was a collection of smooth stones in a variety of muted colors, mostly blues and greens.

“Marlady Ariane Rappengrass sent these to me-aren’t they pretty?” Amalie said. “Sea glass. I was admiring a few stones that she had had made into jewelry, and she said she would send me some. I don’t think they’re very expensive, and that’s one reason I like them so much. Ariane wasn’t trying to impress me, she was just trying to please me. She was just being kind.”

“I met her last year,” he said. “I liked her.”

Amalie picked up a handful of the stones and let them trickle between her fingers, back into the box. “Many people find her terrifying. But I like her, too.” She scooped up another handful of stones and let them slowly fall. “She has a son that some people would like me to marry.”

“Darryn Rappengrass.” The handsome young marlord had crossed Cammon’s path several times when he was in company with Kirra and Senneth. Kirra was particularly fond of him. “He seems like a nice enough man, I suppose.”

Amalie dropped the last of the sea glass through her fingers, pushed the lid shut, and replaced the box on the shelf. “This little statue, it’s from Mayva Nocklyn,” Amalie said, pointing to a moping child carved in white stone. “I don’t like it much, but Milo told me it was by a famous sculptor and very expensive. If Mayva comes to visit, I’ll make sure to have it on display.”

He couldn’t tell if she wanted to change the subject or if she didn’t know how to talk about it. “It must seem very strange,” Cammon said. “To have other people making every important decision in your life. Telling you what man to marry. How to behave. What to do. All the time.”

She met his gaze. Her eyes were velvety brown, thoughtful and guileless. He wished again that he could read what went on behind them.

“They might be making plans, but that doesn’t mean I will agree to them,” she said. As always, her voice was quite soft, her words almost idle. There was no threat in them, no iron. Yet for the first time, Cammon had a flash of intuition about this girl. She could be as stubborn and unyielding as stone; she could be equally hard to wear away. “I will meet whomever they wish me to meet. I will be gracious to everyone. But if they ask me to marry someone I do not wish to marry, I will simply say no. And that means if Senneth asks me, or Valri, or my father. I will not do it.”

He felt a sudden keen admiration for this young woman who was both so important and so vulnerable. “They seem to think that both you and the realm are in danger if you do not have the right husband by your side.”

She smiled. “But I have many people I trust all around me. My uncle. The Riders. Senneth and Kirra. You, for as long as you are willing to serve. I do not feel particularly afraid.”

He wished he knew how to copy a courtier’s bow. Tayse and Justin could both give stiff little bends from the waist that looked like respect, but Cammon wanted to offer something with a bit more flourish. “Majesty, I am yours to command for as long as you need my service.”

She had turned back to the shelves and was poking around for other treasures, pushing aside vases and bowls as if seeking something hidden behind them. “And yet, you have not been to see me since we returned from Rappengrass so many months ago,” she said. “We had been such good friends, as we traveled. I was disappointed when you disappeared so completely.”

He was silent a moment, taken wholly by surprise. “I didn’t know-it seemed-you’re the princess,” he said, floundering badly. “And Senneth told me-she said I couldn’t make too much of friendships struck on the road. It wasn’t my place to come seek you out.”

She turned to look at him, her expression a little severe. “It was my place to send for you, you mean?”

“I didn’t say that,” he answered swiftly. “I didn’t want-I’m not very good at realizing where I do and don’t belong. People are always telling me that. I have a hard time keeping straight who is so important that I shouldn’t speak in front of him, and who is just a regular fellow. But even I know that a princess is not just an ordinary girl.”

She shrugged and turned her attention back to the shelves, pulling things out, looking at them, and putting them back. “I don’t know what ordinary girls are like,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve ever known one. Last year-at the balls-that was really the only time I got to know people my own age.”

“The queen isn’t much older than you are,” Cammon said, wondering what information he might glean in response to this observation. “And you seem to spend a great deal of time with her.”

Her face was in profile to him, but he could see Amalie’s slight smile. “Nothing very girlish about Valri,” she said. “I love her dearly, but she is hardly lighthearted.”

“She seems to feel that it’s important to stick close to you.”

“She does,” Amalie said, pulling down a book, studying the cover, and replacing it. “It is.”

“Why?” he asked bluntly.

She turned to face him again, smiling, but the smile was a mask. “So many reasons,” she said. “So have we settled that?”

“Settled what?”

“We are friends now? You will come to see me, and you will not wait for an invitation, and you will not give me any of these excuses about not knowing how to behave around royalty?”

He felt bewildered but exhilarated, and it was rare that Cammon was bewildered by anyone. “You might find that I am around too much-that I don’t know when I’m supposed to go away,” he replied. “You might find that I don’t know when to stop talking or when you need to be left alone.”

“I don’t mind telling you to be quiet or go away.”

He grinned. “That doesn’t sound very friendly.”

She laughed. “I will try not to be too rude, then,” she said. “At least at first. If you will promise not to stay away.”

“I can’t stay away, or haven’t they told you?” he said. “Senneth wants me to sit in on all your wooing. So I can tell who’s sincerely full of admiration for you and who has smuggled a knife in and wants to slit your throat.”

Her eyes widened and she clapped her hands to her mouth as if to push back a laugh. “No, really? I imagine that will make it even easier to get to know all the serramar who come calling. You on one side of me, Valri on the other.”

He was grinning again. “Why not have Tayse and Justin in the room while you’re at it? The whole entourage.”

She dropped her hands but she was still laughing. “Well, I suppose any man who’s willing to run that gauntlet will at least have proved he has courage. That would be something in his favor, at any rate. So are you planning to come here every day, or just on the days I’m expecting to be courted?”

“Senneth thinks I should live at the palace, at least for a while,” he said. “After what happened today-on top of what happened two weeks ago-she thought both you and your father might be safer if I was on the premises.” He thought that sounded boastful and added quickly, “Because sometimes I can sense things. Bad things. I can tell when people have violence in their hearts.”

All the laughter had left her face. “What happened two weeks ago?” she asked.

By the Bright Mother’s burning eye. “Something I wasn’t supposed to mention, evidently,” he said.

“Tell me,” she said.

She was the princess; she could command him. Besides, Cammon had never seen the value of withholding information. “A man had come to Ghosenhall and was planning to kill your father,” he said. “He’d stolen the clothes and the papers of a merchant from Arberharst who had been granted an audience with the king. I could-I could feel his thoughts and his plans-I don’t know how to explain. So I alerted Tayse and Senneth, and we stopped him.”

“What happened to him?”

Cammon grimaced. “I don’t know. The Riders took him for questioning. I don’t know what else they’ve learned from him.”

Her face was thoughtful. “And they don’t ask you to sit in when they-question-someone? I would think you would be particularly useful in situations like that.”

He looked away. “No. When there’s too much pain or fear, that’s all I can feel. I can’t block it out. I can’t hear underlying truths.”

She was silent a moment. Then, “That’s good to know. I would hate to think of you being called in to assist a torturer.”

He glanced back at her. “I think maybe it’s a weakness on my part. Why should I care if someone who’s cruel or villainous experiences a little pain in turn? But, really, I can’t stand it.”

“I don’t think it’s a weakness at all,” she said. “I think it’s a strength. But then, my own strengths are peculiar.”

That certainly invited the next obvious question-What do you consider your strengths?-but he didn’t get a chance to ask. “Amalie, come listen to this,” Valri called, and Senneth waved them over. They joined the other women, and talk about bloodlines and marriages recommenced, and Cammon was once again very bored.

Or would have been, if he hadn’t spent the entire time reviewing his conversation with the princess. Who wanted him to be her friend. And who considered herself peculiar. And whom he would have the honor of defending by magic at least for the foreseeable future.

Life looked to be very interesting for the next few weeks.

IN fact, life was fairly dull for the next few days, but that was mostly because Amalie was nowhere in it.

Milo, now, Milo had quickly become a fixture of Cammon’s existence. The steward, no doubt alerted by Senneth, came to Cammon’s room that first evening and assessed the clothing that Jerril had boxed up and sent over.

“No,” he said, and pointed, and a team of footmen carried off every last stitch. They did leave behind one pair of boots, but even those did not impress Milo. “You may wear those, but not inside the palace,” he said. A tailor had accompanied the steward, and he now took comprehensive measurements of Cammon’s body, swore that he could produce a new wardrobe in two days, and hurried off.

“What will I wear tomorrow, then?” Cammon said.

“I am having the laundresses wash and iron some uniforms that belonged to men who served here previously,” Milo said majestically. “They will be brought to you. I believe I have gauged your size with at least as much accuracy as you have managed to do when you commissioned your own clothing in the past.”

Cammon couldn’t help but laugh at that. He could tell Milo was genuinely scandalized, and over clothes! Something that didn’t even matter! “Mostly I just put on whatever happens to be around,” he said.

“Yes,” Milo said, “so I surmised.”

It became clear that Milo also planned to control Cammon’s access to Amalie. “Every morning you will present yourself to me-suitably attired-and I will inform you if the princess will have need of you that day, and when,” said Milo. “If she does not, you may consider yourself free until the early afternoon, then check with me again, in case plans have changed. The king would like you to be in attendance at all dinners that feature any guests, which means all dinners for at least the next two weeks. You may eat with the footmen in the kitchen before meals. Someone will bring you bathing water every morning. Make sure you use it. Someone will bring wood for your fire, but you will be expected to make it yourself.”

And so on. Cammon felt himself quickly growing out of charity with Milo, though he knew Kirra and Senneth both were fond of the royal steward. Then again, the steward had probably never treated them like servants. Well, anybody who treated Kirra or Senneth like a servant would very quickly be sorry.

The thought made Cammon grin and instantly restored his usual good humor.

Amalie-or, at least, Milo-had no need of Cammon the morning following his first night in the palace, so he headed down to the section of the palace grounds where the Riders lived and worked out. Despite the frigid temperature, a dozen Riders were in the training yard, practicing swordplay and other skills. Wen was engaged in a furious battle with Tayse’s father, Tir, a dark, burly man still impressively strong although he was nearly as old as the king. Wen had youth and energy in her favor, but Tir was wily. Even without staying to watch the outcome of the match, Cammon knew who would win. There were only a handful of Riders good enough to defeat Tir, and Wen wasn’t one of them.

“Hey, you want to come hack at me next?” she called out as Cammon slipped between the rails of the fence surrounding the training yard. “I’ll be in ribbons by then, so you ought to find it easy to bring me down.”

He grinned. He wasn’t much of a fighter-excellent defense, because he had no trouble guessing where his opponent planned to land the next blow, but almost no offensive skills. He had never actually defeated Wen-but then, she had never actually defeated him, either.

“Too cold,” he called back. “I’m looking for Senneth.”

“In the cottage.”

He nodded. “I know.”

In fact, both Senneth and Tayse were at home, though it was still odd to think of them sharing a house just like any ordinary couple. Most Riders lived in the barracks. The few who chose to marry-and were able to stay married-took up residence in one of the small cottages that fanned out behind the large communal building. Not until Senneth and Tayse had eloped last fall was Tayse willing to set up a household with Senneth. He had preferred her to keep a bedroom at the palace, in luxurious quarters more suitable for a serramarra. But married couples lived together; even Tayse, with his strict notions of class boundaries, recognized that fact. And so they had moved into the cottage, and Senneth had made a few stabs at decorating it, but she wasn’t exactly the most domesticated creature in Gillengaria. Kirra had not been able to stand it. The last time she was here, she had spent a small fortune with Ghosenhall merchants, buying curtains and rugs and sets of china, and so the small house actually had a rather homey feel.

Cammon wasn’t sure Senneth or Tayse had ever cooked in the kitchen, however. They took their meals in the barracks when they both were present, and Tayse ate with the other Riders when Senneth was needed at the palace.

Tayse greeted him at the door. “I was just going out to practice,” said the big man. “You want to come along? I’ll give you a workout.”

“Too cold,” Cammon repeated.

Senneth joined them. “I could ring the whole yard with flame,” she offered. “Make it nice and comfortable.”

Tayse shook his head. “Riders need to know how to fight in all kinds of weather,” he said. “Don’t want to make them soft.”

“I can’t think a few degrees of extra warmth will turn any of that lot soft,” she observed.

Tayse was still waiting, eyebrows lifted. Are you sure you won’t join me? You can never work too hard or be too good. Tayse was not the sort of man who believed in taking advantage of a quiet moment to let his bones go completely idle. A quiet moment was when you cleaned your sword or practiced a new way of throwing your knife. Cammon said, “Maybe later.”

Tayse nodded and ducked out the door. Whoever had designed these cottages had not allowed for a Rider as big as Tayse. Then he ducked back in. “Any news of Justin?” he asked.

Cammon nodded vigorously. “They’re on the move. Heading home.”

That pleased Tayse so much he came all the way back inside. “Where are they, can you tell? How soon will they be back?”

Cammon scrunched up his face and concentrated. He wasn’t good with actual physical locations, just general directions. He had the advantage of knowing where Justin had started out, though, and that made it a little easier. “They’re traveling pretty fast and going-north, I think. But they’re still in the Lirrens. He still feels sort of fuzzy to me. I’ll have a much better idea once they cross the mountains.”

Tayse glanced at Senneth, a faint smile on his face. “We should find a way to welcome them home.”

She laughed. “What, you missed having the Riders throw you a charivari on your own wedding night?”

“Charivari?” Cammon repeated. “What’s that?”

Tayse’s smile deepened. “When Riders marry. It is traditional to celebrate the event-”

“Since it is so rare,” Senneth interjected.

“With a party that sometimes becomes quite boisterous and continues through the night.”

“A drunken rout is what it is, and I don’t think Ellynor would enjoy it,” Senneth said. “Though I do think it would be nice to plan some kind of celebration for the day they arrive. If Cammon could tell us when that is going to be.”

“When they get closer, I will,” he said.

“Justin will suspect something,” Tayse said. “He’ll sneak them in during the middle of the night.”

“Easy enough for Riders to stay up and wait for them,” Senneth said, trying not to laugh. “Riders never need to sleep.”

“Well, we ought to mark the occasion in some fashion.”

“Kirra and Donnal ought to be here,” Senneth said. “We should send them word. Are they still in Danalustrous?”

Cammon nodded. “I’ll let them know,” he said.

“That will be nice,” Senneth said. “The six of us back together again. For a little while, anyway.”

“Seven now,” Cammon said.

“Seven,” Senneth repeated. “I wonder how well I’ll like Ellynor once I get to know her.”

Tayse shrugged. “She makes Justin happy. That’s all I need to know.”

Senneth looked at Cammon with a question on her face. Does she indeed make Justin happy? He grinned and nodded. “Almost as happy as you make Tayse,” he said. That made her laugh and shove him out the door. So, after all, despite the cold, pretty soon he was out on the training field with a weapon in his hand.

Nothing else to do if he was not going to have a chance to see Amalie.