Court Duel (13 page)

Puzzled, but content, I fell asleep with my ringed hand
cradled against my cheek.

TEN

WHEN I HEARD BRANARIC CALL A MORNING GREETING outside Nee's
parlor, I rushed out and batted aside her tapestry. They both
looked at me in surprise as I hugged Bran. "Thank you. It's
really lovely!"

"Huh?" Bran looked half pleased, but half confused. Nee
looked completely confused.

"The gift egg! This ring!" I stuck out my hand. "The finest
Name Day gift I ever had!" I laughed.

Bran blinked, then grimaced. "Burn me, Mel—I forgot. I
mean, it ain't from me, the date went right out of my head.
Life! I talked to Nee about planning a boat party—didn't
I?" He turned suddenly to Nee, who looked stricken. He sighed.
"But I guess I think we're still back three or four months." He
held out his arms and hugged me. "I'm sorry."

I said with an unsteady laugh, "Well, I'll admit to being
disappointed yesterday, until I found this—but if you
didn't put it in my room, who did?"

Nee also gave me a hug. I sensed how bad she felt. "We'll
make up for it," she whispered, and then, louder, "Was there a
letter with it?"

"No. But who else would know?"

"It might not be a Name Day gift at all, though it's awfully
expensive for an admirer to start with," Nee said slowly.

"Savona, you think?" I felt my cheeks go red.

"Could be, except my understanding is, he usually writes
love letters to go with gifts."

"Love letters," I said, grimacing. "I don't want those."

Nee and Branaric both grinned.

"Well, I don't," I protested. "Anyway, what ought I to
do?"

Nee's maid brought coffee, which filled the room with its
aromatic promise. When the woman was gone, Nee said, "You can
put it away, which of course will end the question. Or you can
wear it in public, to signify your approval, and see if anyone
claims it, or even looks conscious."

Which is what I did. A sudden spring shower prevented our
going out immediately, but late in the afternoon the sky
cleared and the air was balmy enough for one to carry one's
walking gloves instead of wear them. I chose a dark gown to
show off the ring, had my hair brushed out, and walked out with
Nee, Branaric having disappeared earlier.

There were even more blooms in the garden than on my
previous walk, scarcely two days before. Everyone seemed to be
out and about—talking, laughing, watching the fish and
ducks and swans. It was while we were walking along the big
pool, admiring the swans and their hatchlings, that we found
ourselves annexed by two energetic ladies, Lady Trishe and Lady
Renna. The latter was tall, thin, and mild in manner, though
Nee had told me she was a formidable rider—not
surprisingly, as she was heir to the Khialem family, who were
known for horse breeding. She had recently married, and her
husband, second son to a baron whose family's lands bordered
hers, was another horse-mad type.

Lady Trishe was the one who caught the eye. Also tall, with
bright golden hair now worn in loose curls around her
shoulders, she looked like the personification of spring in her
light green gown. Nee had said she was a popular hostess.

They greeted us with expressions of delight, and Trishe
said, "Have they finished their ride, then?"

Nee stiffened ever so slightly beside me. "That I do not
know. Branaric went on ahead. It was too wet for my taste."

"You also did not want to go with them, Lady Meliara?"
Trishe turned to me. "There has been much said in praise of
your riding."

"About your everything," a new voice spoke with cool
amusement from behind, and we turned to see Lady Tamara leading
a small party of ladies and gentlemen. Tamara also wore her
hair down, a cascade of glossy curls to her waist, with tiny
gems braided into it. "Good day, Countess," she said, waving
her fan slowly. I'd noticed that she always carried a fan, even
at informal gatherings when the others didn't. "Is there any
end to your accomplishments, then? Yesterday the air rang with
acclaim for your grace on the ballroom floor. Shall you lead
the way on horseback as well?" And she curtsied, a formal
reverence, coming up with her fan spread half before her face
in the mode denoting Modesty Deferring to Brilliance.

I was being mocked. Nothing in her manner gave it away, yet
I knew that that particular fan gesture was not for social
occasions but reserved for literary or artistic exchanges.

I bowed back, exactly the same bow, and because they all
seemed to expect me to speak, I said, "I haven't had a chance
to go riding as yet."

"I am surprised," Tamara exclaimed, her smile gentle but her
hands making artful swirls with the fan. "But, I confess, not
as surprised as I was that you did not join us at Petitioners'
Court today."

Nee said quickly, "Court is not obligatory. You know that,
Cousin."

"Obligatory, no indeed. Cousin." Now Tamara's fan gestured
gracefully in query mode, but at a plangent angle. I couldn't
get the meaning of it, and the other ladies were silent.
"Surely the forming government would benefit from her
advice?"

Was she referring to my having led a revolt, however
unsuccessful, or was she digging at me for having lost a crown?
I suspected the latter, not from any sign she gave but from the
others' reactions, and I stood in silence, trying to find
something to say that wouldn't start trouble. It was a relief
when the sounds of laughter and voices heralded new
arrivals.

We all turned, and my brother appeared with four other
gentlemen. Branaric called jovially, "Found you, Mel, Nee." And
he bowed to the other ladies, who in turn greeted the arrivals:
Geral, Savona, Lord Deric of Orbanith, and Shevraeth.

"What's toward?" the Duke asked.

Tamara's gaze was still on me. I saw her open her mouth, and
before she could say anything that might sting me with
embarrassment, I stuck out my hand and said, "Look at my
ring!"

Surprise, and a few titters of laughter, met my sudden and
uncourtier-like gesture.

Trishe took my hand, turned it over so the ring caught the
light. She made admiring noises, then looked up and said,
"Where? Who?"

"Yesterday." I sneaked a look at Savona. He was
grinning.

"Which finger?" Tamara asked, glancing down.

"The one it fits best," I said quickly, which raised a
laugh. I cast a desperate look at Nee, who was biting her lip.
I hadn't even thought to ask about meaning in ring fingers,
though I ought to have, I realized belatedly. Rings would be a
symbol just like flowers and fan language.

"I've seen it before," Trishe said, frowning in perplexity.
"I know I have. It's very old, and they don't cut stones like
this anymore."

"Who is it from?" Savona asked.

I looked up at him, trying to divine whether secret
knowledge lay behind his expression of interest.

"Of course she cannot tell," Tamara said, her tone mock
chiding—a masterpiece of innuendo, I realized. "But...
perhaps a hint, Countess?"

"I can't, because it's a secret to me, too." I looked
around.

Nothing but interest in all the faces, from Savona's
friendly skepticism to Shevraeth's polite indifference.
Shevraeth looked more tired than ever. "The best kind, because
I get the ring and don't have to do anything about it!"

Everyone laughed.

"Now that," Savona said, taking my arm, "is a direct
challenge, is it not? Geral? Danric? I take you to witness." We
started strolling along the pathway. "But first, to rid myself
of this mysterious rival. Have you kissed anyone since
yesterday? Winked? Sent a posy-of-promise?" He went on with so
many ridiculous questions I couldn't stop laughing.

The others had fallen in behind. Conversations crossed the
group, preventing it from breaking into smaller groups. Before
too long Tamara brought us all together again. She was now the
center of attention as she summoned Savona to her side to
admire a new bracelet.

This was fine with me. I did not like being the center, and
I felt jangled and uneasy. Had I betrayed myself in any
important way? Had I been properly polite to Shevraeth? The few
times he spoke I was careful to listen and to smile just like
the others.

When I found myself on the edge of the group, I slipped away
and hastened back to the Residence. In my room, I found Mora
sewing. She looked at me in surprise, and hastily got to her
feet to curtsy.

"Never mind that," I said. "Tell me, who brings letters and
things?"

"The runners, my lady," she said.

"Can you find out who sent a runner?" When she hesitated, I
said, "Look, I just want to find out who gave me these gifts. I
know under the old king, people could be bribed. Is that true
now? Please, speak plain. I won't tell anyone what you tell me,
and I won't make trouble."

Mora pursed her lips. "There are times when the runners can
be bribed, my lady," she said carefully. "But not all of them.
Were it to get out, they could lose their position."

"So everyone belowstairs doesn't know everything?"

"No, my lady. Many people use personal runners to deliver
things to the palace runners; and the loyal ones don't
talk."

"Ah hah!" I exclaimed. "Then, tell me this: Can something be
returned along the same route, even though I don't know to whom
it's going?"

She thought a bit, then nodded. "I think that can be
arranged."

"Good. Then let me pen a message, and please see that it
gets sent right away." I dived down onto the cushions beside
the desk, rummaged about, and came up with pen and writing
paper. On the paper I wrote:
The gifts are beautiful, and I
thank you, but what do they mean?

I signed my name, sealed the letter, and handed it to
Mora.

She left at once, and I was severely tempted to try to
follow her, except I'd promised not to make trouble. And if I
were caught at it, I suspected that the servants involved might
get into trouble. I decided to look at this whole matter as a
kind of challenge. I'd find some clever way of solving the
mystery without involving anyone innocent.

So I pulled on a cloak and went out to take another walk.
The sky was already clouding up again, and a strong, chilly
wind kicked up my skirts. The weather reminded me of home, and
I found it bracing. I set out in a new direction, away from the
aristo gardens and the outlying great houses.

The buildings were still in the same style, but plainer.
Presently I found myself midway between the royal stables and
the military compound. My steps slowed. I remembered that the
prison building was not very far from the stables, and I had no
desire to see it again.

I turned around—and nearly bumped into a small group
of soldiers in Renselaeus colors. They all stopped, bowed
silently, and would have stepped out of my way, but I
recognized one of them from my ride to Renselaeus just before
the end of the war, and I cried, "Captain Nessaren!"

"My lady." Nessaren smiled, her flat cheeks tinged slightly
with color.

"Is your riding assigned here now?"

"As you see, my lady."

The others bowed and withdrew silently, leaving us
alone.

"Are you not supposed to talk to the civs?" Raindrops stung
my face.

Her eyes crinkled. "They usually don't talk to us."

"Is this a good duty, or is it boring now that nothing is
going on?"

Her eyes flickered to my face then down to the ground, and
her lips just parted. After a moment she said, "We're well
enough, my lady."

Which wasn't quite what I had asked. Resolving to think that
over later, I said, "You know what I miss? The practice
sessions we had when we were riding cross-country last year. I
did some practice at home ... but there doesn't seem to be
opportunity anymore."

"We have open practice each day at dawn, in the garrison
court when the weather's fine, the gym when it isn't. You're
welcome to join us. There's no hierarchy, except that of
expertise, by order of the Marquis himself."

"The Marquis?" I repeated faintly, realizing how close I'd
come to making an even worse fool of myself than my spectacular
attempts so far.

"There every day," she said. "Others as well—Lady
Renna. Duke of Savona there most days, same as Baron Khialem.
You wouldn't be alone."

I won't be there at all.
But out loud I just
thanked her.

She bowed. Her companions were still waiting at a discreet
distance, despite the spatter of rain, so I said, "I won't keep
you any longer."

As she rejoined her group, I started back toward the
Residence. The wind had turned chill, and the rain started
falling faster, but I scarcely noticed.
Was
there
still some kind of danger? Instinct attributed Nessaren's
deliberate vagueness to a military reason.

If the threat was from the borders, it seemed unlikely that
I'd find Renselaeus warriors roaming around the royal palace
Athanarel. So, was there a threat at home?

Like a rival for the kingship? My thoughts went immediately
to the Marquise of Merindar—and to the conservation with
Shevraeth at the inn. The Marquise had made no attempt to
communicate with me, and I had not even seen her subsequent to
that dinner the night of my arrival. In the days since, I'd
managed to lose sight of my purpose in coming.

When I'd surprised Shevraeth in the archive, it had seemed
he was actually willing to discuss royal business—at
least that portion that pertained to cleaning up after
Galdran—for why else would he offer me a look at the old
king's papers? But I'd managed to turn the discussion into a
quarrel, and so lost the chance.

I groaned aloud. What was
wrong
with me? As I
hurried up the steps to our wing, I promised myself that next
time Shevraeth tried to talk to me, I'd listen, and even if he
insulted me, my family, and my land, I'd keep my tongue between
my teeth.