Reader And Raelynx

CHAPTER 6

IN the morning, Milo brought an entire new wardrobe for Cammon, cut and stitched to fit him, and the news that the princess had need of him.

“She is in the rose study,” the steward said. “Do not stray far from the palace today, for you will be wanted in the afternoon, too. A noble suitor will be making his bow to Amalie, and your presence is required.”

Practically a whole day with Amalie. Cammon was so pleased that he managed not to be rude to Milo. He dressed with a little additional care in one of the new uniforms and was forced to admit that quality tailoring might make even him look natty. Certainly the black uniform, with its discreet gold braid and small gold buttons, fitted him perfectly, with no tendency to bunch or bag. It was possible the crisp white shirt would stay tucked in for an entire day. He might actually look presentable for more than fifteen minutes-certainly long enough to stride through the corridors and arrive at Amalie’s study.

She and Valri were seated in the deep chairs set before the window, sipping from teacups. A third chair was pulled up beside theirs; a third cup sat on a table next to the queen. Cammon entered, bowed, and hesitated, but Amalie waved him over.

“Come, sit down! Your feet must be tired after standing for hours watching over our dinners every night.”

He grinned and took a chair, trying to sit straight enough to keep the new jacket from wrinkling. “I don’t mind. The hard part is watching everyone else eat. It’s not so bad when I remember to have my dinner beforehand, but I’m still starving by the end of the night. So then I eat dinner again, and pretty soon I’ll probably grow quite fat.”

“Sooner if you drink this stuff,” Valri said, pouring dark liquid into the remaining cup and handing it over. It smelled sweet and steamy and wonderful.

“What is that?”

“Hot chocolate. Imported from Arberharst.” Valri sipped from her own cup. “It must be what the gods get drunk on.”

Cammon had to agree, it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. But. “Different gods in Arberharst,” he said. “No one ever mentioned the Pale Mother or the Bright Mother or the Dark Watcher while I was there. They worship a redheaded warrior god, and he’s very violent.”

“Did I know you lived in Arberharst?” Amalie asked, holding the cup of hot chocolate suspended before her mouth. The liquid was just a shade or two darker than her eyes. “When were you there?”

“Oh, we lived there for a few years when I was pretty young. Then we moved to Sovenfeld, and back to Arberharst a year or so before I ended up in Gillengaria.”

Amalie glanced at Valri, and they both smiled. “Usually you’re much more forthcoming than that,” the princess said. “Ask you a question, and you’ll answer it for ten minutes.”

He grinned. “Senneth reminds me from time to time that I talk too much. And I don’t know that the story of my life is very interesting.”

“I’m sure you’re wrong there,” Valri said. “It seems as if it’s been very adventurous.”

“I wouldn’t really call Arberharst an adventure.”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Amalie said.

“I don’t mind. Stop me if you get bored.” So he launched into some of the tales about Arberharst and Sovenfeld that, in the past year, he had found entertained almost anybody-Senneth’s brother Kiernan, the Riders, Jerril. He and his parents had been on the move for most of his life, never spending more than a month in any one place, so he had seen plenty of foreign sites-Sovenfeld’s muddy villages and sophisticated cities, Arberharst’s bright red fields of honey spice.

“It truly does sound fascinating,” Amalie said at last. “What took your parents to Arberharst?”

He smiled. “Some kind of business deal. My father was always looking for the next scheme, the next opportunity. He was always going to make a fortune. It never happened.”

“Did he want you to go into business with him?”

“My father-” He hesitated. How much to say? “My father wasn’t all that interested in me. I don’t think he was that interested in my mother, either. I think he would have left her behind except that she was determined to stay with him and bring me along. Maybe it was because she thought he should take care of us, and she wanted to force him to be responsible for the people he’d accumulated-or maybe she just loved him and wanted to be with him. I was never sure.”

There was a shadow across Amalie’s eyes. “Was your mother interested in you?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Well, most of her energy went into trying to hold together a household, trying to feed us on what little money came in, and trying to keep track of my father. I was on my own a lot.”

“In strange countries, with no friends and no family, moving every week or two,” Valri observed. “You must have been very solitary.”

“Oh, I got by. I made friends. There was always an innkeeper’s wife who was kind to me, or a blacksmith who hired me to run errands, or a boy my age who would help me get into trouble.”

“So where are they now?” Amalie said. “Your parents?”

“My father died in Arberharst, my mother on the journey back.”

He said it casually, but he saw Amalie flinch, and even Valri’s cold face looked sympathetic. “So, then you were completely alone in the world,” the princess said.

“Well,” he answered, “they hadn’t been much company to begin with.”

He said it to make them smile, but neither of them did. “So, here you were, an orphan, sailing back to Gillengaria all by yourself,” Amalie said. “How dreadful.”

“A nineteen-year-old orphan,” he corrected. “Not so young and helpless as all that.”

“Did you look for your family once you arrived? Aunts and uncles?”

He shook his head. “I’m pretty sure my father’s family cast him off. My mother’s parents died when I was small, and she didn’t have any brothers or sisters. There must be aunts or cousins somewhere, but I’ve never sought them out.”

“I’m finding this to be one of the most depressing stories I’ve heard in quite some time,” Valri remarked.

An excellent opening for a change of subject. “Do you have a big family, then?” he asked the queen. “Are you close to them?”

“Yes to both questions, though I have not been to see them in a few years,” Valri answered. “But they are most protective of me. One of the reasons I wanted to leave-to try what my life would be like without their close attention.”

“Wait-I want to finish with Cammon’s story before we get to yours,” Amalie said.

Valri looked amused. “Well, that’s enough of my story for now, anyway.”

“And enough of mine, don’t you think?” Cammon asked.

“No,” the princess answered. “So what happened when you arrived in Gillengaria? What did you do?”

He gazed at her for a moment, debating how much of the truth to tell. It had been horrible, really, the worst six weeks of his life. He had wondered how he would stand it-had seen no way out.

And then Senneth came along…

He had hesitated too long. “Tell me,” she commanded. “All of it. I am your princess, and you must do as I say.”

He gave a tiny shrug. “I didn’t have the money to pay for the rest of the trip. My mother had apparently struck a deal with the ship captain-she worked in the galley as part of the price of our passage. So now that coin was gone. When we arrived at Dormas port, the captain had me indentured to a tavernkeeper there. I wasn’t clear on the terms. I don’t know how long I was supposed to work off my debt. The tavernkeeper didn’t care much for mystics and something made him think that’s what I was. I’d never heard the word before-I didn’t know what it meant. But he put a metal shackle around my throat and set it with a moonstone as big as my thumb. It pretty much made me useless to do anything except stumble around the kitchen helping the cooks and shuffle around the tavern serving customers.”

He put a hand to the base of his throat, where he still bore a faint scar. Moonstones were deadly poison to mystics; Senneth was the only mystic Cammon knew who could bear their contact. The Daughters of the Pale Mother wore the gems as a way to mark their dedication to the goddess-and a way to expose mystics by watching who shied away from the jewel’s fiery touch.

“The moonstone burned my skin,” he said. “I didn’t know why. It made it hard for me to think, and I didn’t understand that, either. But I started having strange visions-strange thoughts-from outside myself. I don’t know how to explain. I was able to sense the moods of the people around me. It was so disorienting. But useful! I could tell when Kardon-the tavernmaster-was furious enough to want to beat me, so I would hide until his rage died down. I think once or twice he would have killed me with his bare hands, and magic was the only thing that saved my life.”

Now Amalie looked absolutely horrified, and Valri looked both angry and sad. “The crimes that have been committed against mystics by ignorant and stupid people,” the queen spit out. “Someday there will be a reckoning for all that.”

Amalie seemed to swallow with some difficulty. “So, what happened? How did you get free?”

He smiled, because he still liked this part of the story. It almost made it worth enduring all the wretchedness that had come before. “Senneth, of course. Actually, Senneth and Tayse and Kirra and Justin. And Donnal, but he was outside the tavern with the horses. They were passing through on their way somewhere else and Senneth realized I was a mystic. So, she rescued me and brought me with her and-and that’s how I’ve ended up in Ghosenhall today.”

“Oh, no, I want more details of the rescue!” Amalie exclaimed, finally able to smile again. “I knew that you had met them somewhere on the road, but I didn’t realize it had been such a dramatic encounter.”

So he told the tale, which made Amalie offer up a small cheer, and then obligingly recounted a few of their adventures on the road. These were much happier stories, although there had been some desperate moments last fall when Justin was falling in love with Ellynor.

“I know Justin, of course, but who’s Ellynor?” Amalie asked.

“She was a novice at the Lumanen Convent. He met her when he was spying on Coralinda Gisseltess.”

“She’s a Daughter of the Pale Mother?” Amalie demanded. “And a Rider fell in love with her? Oh, that sounds very risky! Is he sure she can be trusted?”

“It’s even more complicated than that,” Cammon said. “She was sent to the convent by her family-she didn’t join because she had any particular devotion to the Pale Mother. In fact, Ellynor worships the Dark Watcher. So it became very dangerous for her when-”

But that had caught Valri’s attention. “She worships the Dark Watcher? Is she from the Lirrens? That’s their goddess there.”

Cammon nodded vigorously. “And she’s a mystic! So, here she is, surrounded by the fanatical Daughters, slowly realizing that she has magic in her blood and that if Coralinda finds out, she’ll be put to death. And then she’s got Justin showing up at the convent every other day, because he’s in love with her and he’s too stubborn to be turned away-she had a very tricky time of it.”

“If she’s a Lirren girl, she’ll never be allowed to marry a Rider,” Valri remarked. “Outsiders are murdered before they’re allowed to make off with Lirren women.”

“Yes, but she has married him. They’re on their way back from the Lirrens now,” Cammon said. “Ellynor became-became-she declared herself something special. Bahta-lo, that’s it. That means she’s free of the interference of her family. Apparently Lirren women can only become completely independent if they take this sort of vow, but if they do, they can run their own lives. I didn’t really understand it, to tell you the truth,” he ended up.

“That’s quite an incredible tale,” Valri said, and it was hard to tell if she was serious or if she was mocking him. But something about the story had struck an emotional chord in her, for her green eyes were bright with interest. “And you say the Rider and his Lirren bride are on their way back to Ghosenhall even now?”

“Yes. I think they’ll be here in a few days.”

“Let us know when they’ve safely returned,” Valri said. “I would like to meet the bahta-lo who has eluded Coralinda Gisseltess and tamed a Rider.”

Amalie sighed theatrically. “Yes, I’m very interested in love stories these days, since I’m supposed to be making a match of my own. Mine won’t be nearly so romantic, though.”

“You might fall in love with your husband,” Valri said. “Just because you choose him primarily for rank and politics doesn’t mean you can’t choose him for character and looks as well.”

“Milo says one of them will be arriving this afternoon,” Cammon said.

Amalie nodded. “Delt Helven. You’re supposed to listen in to our conversation.”

Cammon glanced around the room. “In here? Where shall I stand?”

Valri was shaking her head. “No. There is a more formal receiving room on the first floor where Amalie will entertain her suitors. This room is too comfortable. We don’t want them to be at ease just at first.”

Amalie giggled and Cammon grinned. “I can’t imagine that any of my suitors will be at ease ever,” the princess said. “How intimidating! To come to the palace to seek your bride! And I’m sure their fathers and mothers have been lecturing them for days on how to behave, and how important it is that they impress me, and how prestigious it will be for their House if one of their heirs one day becomes king.”

“I hope they are also explaining to their sons that if they marry you, they may well be gambling their lives,” Valri said in a dry voice. “For if Halchon Gisseltess has his way, you will never sit on the throne, and neither will any man you take as your husband.”

That seemed a harsh thing to say, Cammon thought, but Amalie was nodding wisely. “And even if their parents haven’t made it clear, you can be sure I will before wedding vows are ever spoken,” she said. “They may find they are not willing to risk so much for the chance to wear a crown.”

Just then the sunlight strengthened through the window, turning Amalie’s red-blond hair to gold. The effect was so dazzling that it didn’t even occur to Cammon to say the words aloud. Maybe not, but they might be willing to risk everything for the chance to marry you.

IT turned out the royal receiving room was not just formal and uncomfortable. It was set up specifically to allow a courting couple the appearance of privacy without leaving them alone for a second. The central portion of the room consisted of a half dozen stiff-backed and heavily upholstered green chairs surrounded by thick-legged tables in some dark, forbidding wood. The walls were covered with decorative paper in a distinctive green-and-gold pattern-but the walls were fake, barely more than reinforced parchment. Behind them, around three sides of the room, ran a narrow corridor just wide enough to accommodate the body of a man. Here the various spies and guardians of the household would be set up to audit any visitor’s conversation.

Cammon, Valri, Wen, and Tayse were all in place a good half hour before Amalie’s suitor came calling. Tayse, of course, had prowled through every corner of the main room, checking for potential danger, before concealing himself behind the false wall. They had debated where each of them could best be deployed, and they had ultimately decided that Valri and one Rider would stand together on one side, Cammon and the second Rider on the other.

Cammon and Tayse were leaning against the true wall, waiting, when Cammon sensed Milo leading a procession up the hallway. He straightened and jerked his head, and Tayse came smoothly to an upright position. Cammon didn’t even have to look to know Tayse’s hand would be on his sword hilt. If it was humanly possible to protect Amalie from physical danger, Tayse would be the one to keep her safe.

The door opened and five people entered. Cammon closed his eyes and envisioned the scene on the other side of the barrier. Milo led the way, Amalie and the young lord followed, servants came behind them bearing trays of refreshments. No one seemed bent on malice. From the young Helven lord, Cammon picked up only nervousness and hope. There were the sounds of chairs being moved, trays being laid on tables, drinks being poured.

“If you have any need of me, Majesty, I will be within call,” Milo said, his voice heavy with significance. And so will four others, waiting to leap to your aid.

“Thank you, Milo. I will let you know.”

Footsteps, rustling, the sound of a door closing, then Amalie’s light laugh. As always, Cammon found it annoyingly impossible to tell what she might be thinking. Was she, too, nervous at meeting a prospective husband? Was she intrigued? Indifferent? Contrary? He didn’t know.

“So tell me a little about yourself,” Amalie invited in a voice that was much softer than the hard chairs and grim furnishings. “I met you last summer, I think, but only briefly.”

“Yes-I was in Nocklyn and Rappengrass,” Delt Helven said in an eager voice. “You favored me with two dances.”

“No one can talk in a ballroom!” she said gaily. “So you must start at the beginning, as if we were strangers. You are marlord Martin’s nephew, are you not?”

“My mother is his sister. I spend a great deal of time at Helvenhall and my uncle trusts me absolutely.”

“I’ve never been to Helvenhall. Is it pretty?”

“It is the richest of the middle Houses, and everywhere you look you see fields of grain. My uncle has an interest in many of the brewing houses. Have you ever had a glass of Helven beer?”

“I’m not sure.”

“You will have to journey to Helven sometime soon and try all the varieties that are made there.”

He continued on in this way for quite some time, listing Helven’s advantages as if he were trying to make a sale of the House to a somewhat reluctant buyer. A couple of times, Amalie tried to turn the conversation back to more personal topics, but it was clear Delt Helven had been well coached about what information to convey, and he was not easy to divert from his script. After a while, Amalie stopped trying, although she remained gracious. “That is most interesting,” she said a number of times. Or, “Really? I had no idea.”

The tedious conversation dragged on for at least an hour before the tone of Amalie’s voice changed. “Goodness! It’s almost time to dress for dinner! How long will we have the honor of your company?”

“I will be here another day, perhaps two. I was hoping to take you riding tomorrow? Or escort you through the city? I would love to buy you a gift from one of the fine merchants of Ghosenhall. Anything you pick out. Anything at all.”

“What a most generous offer. I’m afraid I don’t get many chances to shop in the local markets, but we might certainly ride for a while tomorrow. There are a few trails on the palace grounds that are very lovely, though you cannot canter, of course.”

“Majesty, I would do no more than hold your horse’s bridle for you if that would please you.”

“Oh, no, think how dull. We shall ride. Or even walk. It will be most delightful.”

In fact, it would probably be even more awkward than this little encounter, since obviously Amalie’s retinue would have to be visible for such an outing. Unless-Cammon smiled-the Riders could perhaps hide behind various trees and follies along the route that Amalie planned to take, ready to leap out at any moment and rescue her from danger. But he saw no way he and Valri would be excused from such an expedition, and he imagined the queen standing on the other side of the room and mildly cursing.

Delt Helven said, “I live for the hour.”