Dragonfly (20 page)

Read Dragonfly Online

Authors: Julia Golding

Tags: #General, #Action & Adventure, #Juvenile Fiction, #Fantasy & Magic, #Social Issues, #Royalty, #Juvenile Nonfiction

BOOK: Dragonfly
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194

neck felt exposed. She knew from Fergox's court that this was normal for a lady in these lands, but it made her self-conscious. And her hair: it now rippled over her shoulders, shining with a copper flame.

Merl coughed outside the door. "May I enter?"

"Yes, I'm ready," Tashi replied, though she felt far from prepared to meet anyone just yet.

Merl stood in the doorway and paused dramatically, holding out his hands.

"You are a vision of loveliness, Princess. You were beautiful in your rags; you are radiant in your riches. My little cousin indeed."

"I'm not sure," Tashi said, putting her hands to her cheeks. "It's not how an Islander would dress."

"Exactly. You're an honorary Brigardian now. Trust me, you will do very well."

He escorted her back to where the others were waiting.

"May I present her ladyship, the copper lily of the ac Mollinder family."

The men rose on her entrance, Ramil wide-eyed, Gordoc beaming proudly, but Nerul looked sad.

"It was my mother's dress," he said softly, leading her to a cushion beside him. "But I think she would be pleased to see you wearing it, cousin, as it becomes you so well."

Ramil was not pleased when Merl made the suggestion that the Princess, as suited her role as family member, be provided with quarters in the commander's tent.

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"Surely you see, Prince, that it will be easier to hide your presence among us if we separate you?" Merl said smoothly. "We can say you are a mercenary soldier come from the southern desert. Our giant here is Brigardian so no one will wonder that he joined us."

As much as Ramil hated the idea of leaving Tashi to be sweet-talked by a man he had decided was an unbearable flirt, he could think of no sensible protest to raise against what was a sound plan.

"Will you be all right, Tashi?" Ramil asked, which was his way of enquiring if she minded being abandoned to Merl's assiduous attentions.

"I'll manage," she replied, amused by Ramil's sullen expression. She knew that Ramil had never desired her as a woman--he'd been quick enough to make his distaste plain back in Gerfal--so she thought he was being merely protective of her. That he might be jealous did not cross her mind.

"You clearly have ways of getting news from Gerfal, Your Grace," Tashi said, turning to her host. "Is it possible to pass a message to my people and to King Lagan to tell them we are safe?"

"There are Brigardian exiles in Falburg who keep me informed of court gossip," Nerul explained. "We have a number of ways of communicating but in winter most news comes via the fishing fleet as the mountain passes are closed. You can certainly send a message that way."

"And could we return by sea?" Ramil asked eagerly.

Nerul shook his head. "Your chances of success are slight. The Pirate Fleet searches every vessel and is being

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very thorough since your escape. Coded messages may pass where people cannot."

"Pehaps Prince Ramil might be able to hide himself amongst a crew?"

suggested Merl. "But I'm afraid the Princess would stand out--there are no women on board those boats."

Ramil was not going to let the Brigardian noble separate him from Tashi so easily.

"I gave my word to the Princess that we would escape together so I will not abandon her in Brigard. If I did this, her people would probably declare war--

and rightly so--as Gerfal is to blame for allowing her to be abducted in the first place. No, if we travel to Gerfal, we go together. But not by sea, it would seem."

"Not by sea," echoed Nerul. "But there is still much that can be done as we wait for word from your father. Fergox will not sit still while the snow falls.

This is the time of preparation before he unleashes his forces. We should make that interval as difficult for him as possible."

"Upset Fergox?" Ramil lay back on his cushion and grinned. "I like the sound of that. Count me in."

Tashi felt at ease in the tent room that had been given over to her. For the first time in Brigard she was in a space both comfortable and simple. Her bed was a canvas stretched over poles, warm and soft with ample cushions and sweet-smelling blankets. Hangings woven with golden flax and marsh flowers decorated

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the walls, making the chamber feel as if it belonged to this landscape, a hidden corner of the Fens. More dresses had been found for her and a fur-lined cloak, but best of all a pair of snug-fitting leather shoes.

Left alone to perform her rituals in the privacy of her room, she found new peace in saying the prayers. In prison, the rituals had become a distressing process which she forced herself to complete out of duty. Then had come the dark days of doubt, when every word felt like a curse upon her. Now trusting, as Ramil had suggested, that the Goddess's way still lay before her even if it was leading her down strange paths, she relaxed and lingered in the beauty and tranquillity of the ancient liturgy. She began to see new depths to the movements, understanding that the gestures were not just punctuations to the speech but prayers themselves, like a symbolic dance.

Sitting back after having completed the morning ritual, Tashi dwelt upon the lessons she was learning. Her experience of faith had not been so pure or simple since her hillside prayers as a child.

This must be good,
she thought,
this must be what the Goddess is teaching
me.
Remembering how she had fretted in the palace on Rama, burdened with the demands of her office, she could see herself far more clearly now that it had been taken away from her. She had tried so hard, too hard, to be what others expected her to be, that she had forgotten that the only one she had to please was the Goddess. And one thing Tashi now knew was that the Goddess did not care for the ritual

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but what was inside the heart of the believer who performed it.

"Thank you for the lesson, Mother," Tashi murmured, "but did you have to go to such extremes to teach me?"

No answer--but it was not an empty, angry silence like before in Fergox's prison. Nature continued calmly on its business outside, the reeds rustling, the wind whispering, and children laughing in the distance.

"I suppose that means that you had your reasons, Mother." Tashi concluded her prayer time by putting her palms together, then pushing them out and dropping her hands to her knees. She bowed low so that her forehead touched the rug. Opening her eyes, she found that she had not been so private as she thought. During her meditation, someone had placed a sprig of winter greenery on her pillow. Threaded through it was a thin gold chain with a tiny key on the end. Having seen this around the camp on flags and uniforms, Tashi guessed this was the ac Mollinder family symbol.

So was it a gift, or part of her disguise--perhaps both? Tashi stood before her mirror and fastened it around her neck. The chain was long, the charm disappearing down the front of her dress, resting on her breastbone.

Leaving her chamber in search of breakfast, Tashi found Merl waiting for her at the table. His eyes fell on the necklace and he gave a smile, making no comment.

"Now, fair cousin," Meri said when she had finished eating, "wouid you like me to show you the delights of our camp? That should occupy, oh, half an hour of your time."

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"Thank you. I would like that. But I would also like to make myself useful. Is there any task I can do?"

Merl gave her his most brilliant smile. "I would like nothing better than to have you beside me as a helpmate. Indeed, I have much tedious work for the pen and you would free up a man for fighting if you would do this."

"Then that is settled. I wil help you with your intelligence work."

"And now, for your tour of our little dukedom."

Merl proved to be an entertaining and informative guide. He showed her the armory and the forge where the smiths were hard at work, bare-chested in the freezing weather, hammering new blades and shoeing the resistance's horses. They stopped in the communal kitchens--tables under a pavilion and open-air stoves-- to taste the bread offered by an apple-cheeked cook. At the school for the camp children, Professor Norling stood at the blackboard in front of the oldest pupils. Their math lesson was most unconventional as he had them working out the amount of explosive required to take out the supports of a local bridge.

"An interesting topic," Tashi remarked in a low voice.

"You should see the practical," Merl commented dryly as he led her away.

The last area he took her to was the stables. Outside, the fighters were honing their skills in armed and unarmed combat. Again Tashi was

impressed to see women among the fighters. Her own army comprised half men

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and half women, but she had thought the Easterners did not allow their females into battle. She expressed this view to Merl.

He laughed. "That is true in normal times, but we are not a conventional army. Our women number among our best and most effective agents, getting into the houses of some of our key targets."

"You use them as assassins?" Tashi watched enviously as one dark-haired girl not much older than she was floored a man twice her size.

"Yes. They can also cause havoc in markets and barrack cookhouses, places where it is harder for a man to go unnoticed. And as messengers they are invaluable."

Tashi spotted Ramil among the men practicing with swords. He glanced once in their direction but then ignored them, redoubling his attack on the unfortunate man who had volunteered to be his partner.

"Ramil knows how to wield his blade," remarked Merl, watching him critically.

"Yes, he bested the Inkar in the practice courts. She thought him a match for Fergox," said Tashi, admiring the Prince's elegant pattern of strikes.

"He should perhaps ease up a little though," said Nerul, striding up behind them. "I do not want one of my best men in the infirmary." He bowed to Tashi. "Good morning, cousin."

"Good morning, Your Grace."

"I have a messenger leaving for the coast today if you would like to send word to your people. Merl here will show you our codes."

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"Thank you."

Merl held out his arm. "Let us return to our desk, cousin, and I will induct you into the delights of the codebook."

The following days, Tashi spent much of her time with Merl, reading correspondence, summarizing reports for Nerul, and generally managing the information coming into the resistance headquarters from all over Brigard and beyond. Merl made sure she saw all communications concerning the search for her and Ramil. Fergox had despatched hunters over the

surrounding areas, concentrating on the paths to the mountains and to the coast. He was reported to be increasingly frustrated by the lack of information or sign of his fugitives. The soldiers who had been on duty and survived the escape attempt were the least fortunate for they had been executed the following day and their bodies now hung on the battlements as a warning to others. Spies said that the Inkar Yellowtooth had killed a man on the practice courts in her fury at the loss of her favorite horse.

Tashi said a prayer for the soul of all those who died, even though they were her enemies. She hoped the Inkar's victim had not been her trainer who, though stern, had always been fair to her under the rules of his faith.

Sifting through the papers, Tashi began to enjoy her work, finding she had an aptitude for translating codes

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back into Common. Concentrating hard on a defined task like this took her mind off her precarious position and made her feel useful--a pleasant change from the last few months. She also expanded her knowledge of parts of the Empire to the south of Brigard: the warmer climes of the forested Kandar, the Inkar's domain given to her by her brother after his first conquest; the slave plantations of the lands around the Inland Sea and the heart of the Empire, the capital Tigral. She even read despatches from those who had travelled all the way to the edges of the Southern Desert, an ungovernable land inhabited by a nomadic people cal ed the Horse Fol owers, the tribe from which Ramil's mother had come. They were no friends to Fergox, but kept themselves hidden in their desert, beyond the march of any army foolish enough to attempt to cross that waterless expanse. As yet, they stood apart from the resistance, wishing it well but considering it none of their business.

The only shadow over her days in Nerul's tent was the continuing campaign by Merl to win her favor. He was witty, kind, complimentary and Tashi was not impervious to the charm of being gently wooed by a handsome man. Yet she found it all very confusing, not certain of her own part in this game. In the Islands, his behavior would have been an affront; here it seemed that gifts and sweet-talking were an accepted part of life between men and women, not even necessarily meaning courtship. He presented her with a ribbon for her hair and tied it on himself; he caressed her fingers

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on handing her papers, leant over her as she worked so that his breath tickled her neck. He'd even once kissed her playfully to congratulate her on her first mistake-free translation. She had been stunned at the familiarity, wondering if she should protest, but he had moved on quickly to another subject as if it had all meant nothing. It was most perplexing.

After seven days of this treatment, she decided to go to her friends for advice. As Easterners, Ramil and Gordoc should be able to tell her how to respond to these approaches. She sought them out in Melletin's tent after dark one evening, taking care not to be seen by anyone as she crossed the camp. Her luck was in: they were alone, tending their weapons, checking straps and sharpening blades.

"May I come in?" she asked shyly, leaning on a walking stick.

Gordoc jumped up. "Princess, of course you may join Old Gordoc and Ram.

We've been wondering what had become of you." He guided her to the cushions. "We thought you'd quite forgotten us."

She shook her head. "Of course I hadn't but it would look strange for a cousin of Nerul to spend too much time with mercenaries. I have my family's reputation to think of."

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