Fire of the Soul (20 page)

“It’s too bad Lady Elgida isn’t twenty years
younger,” Durand murmured into Calia’s ear. “If she were, I do
believe he’d carry her off to some secret lair that only he knows
of and keep her there until she surrendered to him.”

“Lord Durand, really!” Calia gasped, then
broke into helpless laughter that lasted until Lady Elgida directed
an angry glare at her.

“You ought to laugh and smile more often,”
Durand said. “How pretty you are.”

“Mind your manners, sir. I am not amenable to
flattery.” Calia turned away from him and came face to face with
Garit. He glanced from her to Durand, then spun on his heel and
stalked to the far side of the deck.

“Now look what I’ve done.” Durand spoke
softly.

“It’s not your fault. It doesn’t matter.
Please excuse me, my lord. I have chores to see to in our
cabin.”

Calia hurried below, seeking a few moments of
privacy. She knew she had only herself to blame for Garit’s present
coolness toward her. He had taken her at her word when she’d said
she found his attentions offensive. He had stayed well away from
her in Tannaris and now he was avoiding her as much as was possible
on a ship that wasn’t very large. He spoke politely to her when
speech was necessary and otherwise asked her no prying questions.
For several days he had not put his arms around her again, nor
tried to kiss her.

Calia told herself she was glad he was
behaving sensibly. She didn’t have time for the distraction that
Garit presented. She had an assignment to carry out, a duty imposed
by the Great Mage himself.

The stone box that Ultan had given her lay at
the bottom of the wicker hamper where her clothes were packed. She
had examined it again, in bright daylight, and she could detect no
hint of the separation between the lid and the box. She wasn’t
surprised. Ultan had sealed the lid with magic and only Queen
Laisren would know how to open it.

Calia did wonder what treasure the silver
casket contained. Was it something extremely valuable, or just a
tender token of affection between father and daughter? Ultan had
not seemed to be a particularly affectionate person, but Calia’s
own experience provided no clues about the love a parent might bear
toward a child, especially an only child, as she knew Laisren to
be.

Calia reasoned that her problem was not the
question of what the casket in the box contained, or why Ultan had
entrusted the stone receptacle to her, or even why he’d instructed
her to tell no one she had it. Her problem was twofold: how to
deliver the box to the Queen of Kantia, and how to do so privately,
as Ultan had specifically directed.

If Lady Elgida’s grandsons were not at
Kinath, then part of the problem would be resolved with no effort
on Calia’s part, for they would surely continue their journey
onward to Kerun City. Laisren had taken the boys into her service.
That meant the chances were good that Calia could reach the queen,
ask for a moment alone, and give her the box. If any difficulty
arose, she could ask Durand for help. Or else ask his sister, who
was said to be close friends with the queen.

But if the boys were at Kinath, Lady Elgida
would see no reason for visiting Kerun City, which meant Calia
would have to devise an excuse for leaving her, for a short time at
least. The difficulty was compounded by the prospect of having to
deal with Mallory.

Feeling burdened by a duty she had not
invited, fearing her meeting with Mallory, Calia began to hope that
Lady Elgida would not find her grandsons at Kinath.

Five days of tacking against a wind that that
blew so hard from the south that the women spent most of the time
in their cabin brought them to the cliffs of Kinath.

The castle was situated so close to the edge
of the cliff on which it sat that Calia, gazing up at it, wondered
how the great blocks of stone could have been maneuvered into place
and kept there. Probably, with great loss of life, she thought.

“It hasn’t changed at all since the last time
I saw it,” Lady Elgida murmured from her position next to Calia at
the rail. “Kinath is still the strongest, most impregnable castle
in eastern Kantia, just as my dear Belai built it to be.”

“It’s terrifying,” Calia whispered,
shivering. “Especially because I know who is living there.”

“A castle is supposed to be daunting. Never
fear,” Lady Elgida said with her customary assurance. “I will
protect you and all will be well.”

Calia doubted that anyone could protect her
from Mallory, but didn’t say so. Fortunately, Mairne provided a
diversion from her trepidation and from her belief that very soon
Garit was going to hate her forever.

“How will we get ashore?” Mairne asked. “I
see no wharf.”

“Of course not,” Lady Elgida said. “A wharf
would be an invitation to invaders. My Belai chose the site well.
Nearby is a place where the water is deep enough for
The Kantian
Queen
to sail close to shore. You and Calia and I will land
from a rowboat.”

“But, my lady,” asked Mairne, “how will we
climb that high cliff?”

“On horseback, of course,” Lady Elgida
answered.

“But, how will the horses go ashore? Oh,
my.”

Mairne broke off her questioning to gape as
the ship eased around an outcropping of rock and into a quiet cove.
There the cliff ended abruptly, subsiding into a steep, rocky
hillside. Captain Pyrsig ordered the anchor dropped close to a
narrow beach that edged the cove.

“We will go ashore here,” Lady Elgida said.
“My Belai planned it so. Garit has come to Kinath many times by
this hidden way and he knows where the deep water is. He has been
giving directions to Captain Pyrsig.”

“I still don’t see how we can climb all the
way up there,” Mairne insisted, looking at the castle, so close to
the cliff edge on this side, too, that it seemed ready to tumble
off the land and into the sea.

“Do be quiet, child, and watch,” Lady Elgida
commanded.

Most of Mairne’s questions, along with
Calia’s unspoken ones, were quickly answered. The gangplank was set
in place with its end held down by a sailor who stood on it,
swearing rather colorfully at the chill of the sea. Meanwhile, the
deck hatch was opened, a ramp was affixed to its edge and the
horses, blindfolded to keep them from bolting, were urged up the
steep ramp, across the deck, and then led down the gangplank.
Several of the men-at-arms chose to ride their own horses into the
water, a procedure that seemed dangerous to Calia, particularly
when she realized the horses had to swim a short distance to the
beach.

“We’ll want a quicker way to re-board, should
we need to depart in a hurry,” Durand said to Garit. “I doubt your
men will by pleased at the thought of leaving good horseflesh
behind.”

The words sent another shiver down Calia’s
spine. Did Garit or, more likely, Durand, know who awaited them at
Kinath Castle, and did he expect trouble?

“What you ought to do,” Lady Elgida told
Garit, “is send a man ahead to inform whoever is presently at the
castle to prepare for my arrival.”

“What I
ought
to do,” Garit responded
coldly, “is leave you women aboard ship until I can be certain a
visit there won’t be dangerous.”

“Nonsense.” Lady Elgida scoffed at the
prospect of danger. “My Belai always said that in warfare an
unexpected appearance provides a strategic advantage.”

“Have you any reason to believe we’ll meet
hostility there?” Garit asked. “Perhaps an instance of the
treachery of Kantian nobles to confirm your opinion of them?”

“Of course not,” Lady Elgida snapped so
loudly that Garit looked at her in surprise and Calia understood
that she was thinking about Mallory.

“We cannot be certain Fenella and the boys
are there,” Lady Elgida added in a quieter tone. “If they are not,
we may have to reload all of the horses, and the men, and our
baggage and sail elsewhere to find them. Sending one man ahead to
announce us could save us a great deal of trouble.”

“I thought you were hoping for a strategic
advantage,” Garit said with a frown, “though I think it’s likely
that any lookouts posted on the walls will have seen us by now. The
horses are awaiting us on the beach. Let me help you into the
rowboat, Grandmother.”

The small craft that was to take them to
shore waited by the gangplank. Garit guided Lady Elgida halfway
down the slope and then lowered her into the boat with one of the
rowers steadying her from below. Calia and Mairne debarked in the
same way. The rowers took them to shore, then returned for Garit,
Anders, and Durand.

“I invited him to accompany us,” Lady Elgida
said when Calia remarked on Durand’s presence. “Another nobleman
may prove useful, and I am sure he’ll be glad of a few days on
solid land.”

What Durand would really be glad of, Calia
thought, was the opportunity to investigate the situation at a
Kantian castle. He probably intended to send a report to King
Henryk on what he found at Kinath.

Once everyone was on shore and the rowboat
was heading back to the ship, Garit saw the ladies mounted and
then, riding his own horse, he led the way across the beach to a
path that was half hidden by bushes and tall grass.

Calia quickly realized the path could not be
seen from the water, or even from the beach unless one knew where
it was. Obviously, the arrangement was intended as yet another
discouragement to would-be invaders. But Garit and Anders both knew
where they were going.

Their way led back and forth up the hill,
heading inland. A pebble dropped from the castle wall would have
landed on the beach within a moment, but to Calia the slow ride to
the castle gate seemed endless. Once they were on top of the hill
another slope presented itself. This one boasted a gravelly road
that led directly to the gatehouse.

As they approached they were hailed by a
sentry who demanded that they state their business.

“Elgida, the dowager lady of Kinath, widow of
Lord Belai and mother of the late Lord Kinen, requests admittance,”
Garit declared in ringing tones. “She has come to visit her old
home and to meet her grandsons.”

Calia noticed the sentry moving his finger
and guessed he was counting the members of their party. Kinath was
so huge and so formidable that it must be staffed by a large
garrison. She didn’t see how anyone could think that two noblemen,
a squire, seven men-at-arms, and three women could present a
danger. Apparently, the sentry felt the same way, for he called out
an order to open the gate.

The drawbridge was already down over a deep,
rock-strewn gash in the earth that served as a dry moat. Within
moments the portcullis began to rise and Garit led his party
through the gate to the outer bailey.

The initial greeting was polite, but
distinctly cool. A knight clad in leather as dark as his hair and
eyes introduced himself as Sir Kelin the seneschal. He conducted
them to the inner bailey and then up the stairs to the keep and the
great hall. Along the way half of Garit’s men-at-arms detached
themselves from the group and at Anders’ direction headed for the
stables to attend to the horses.

As they crossed the inner bailey, now on
foot, Calia saw men-at-arms, squires, and servants watching them
with great interest and she heard the murmuring that said the
former lady of the castle had returned, but she couldn’t get a
sense of whether they were glad to see Lady Elgida, or not.

As for herself, her stomach was in knots, her
heart was thudding, and she feared her knees would give way when
she met Mallory again. She was very glad that Lady Elgida knew of
her past and would stand with her against Mallory if need be.
Unfortunately, Garit was soon going to learn about her past and she
greatly feared he would not be as understanding as his
grandmother.

When Durand offered his arm as they went up
the steps to the keep, she grasped it in the same way a drowning
person would seize a log floating by, though she knew his chivalry
would make no difference to what was sure to happen when she met
Mallory. Caught between her ruthless brother and the man she loved,
she could only pray that she would not disgrace herself when the
confrontation came.

The interior of Kinath Castle was every bit
as forbidding as the outside. The great hall was a place of stark
austerity in which Calia recognized her brother’s uncompromising
taste. A few narrow windows interrupted the solid stone of the high
walls and, since it was by now late afternoon, only a pale,
slanting light shone through the heavy, greenish glass. In that
peculiar light the very air appeared murky and green, as if the
hall were underwater. Not a single tapestry on any wall offered a
brighter color to relieve an eye looking for some cheerful
contrast.

A fireplace at the far end of the hall, which
would provide warmth to the diners on the dais, was supplemented by
the original firepit in the center of the floor. An opening in the
roof above the pit was meant to carry off the smoke, but it was
more effective as an entry for birds. Calia saw several small birds
flying about the hall with such purpose that she suspected they’d
built nests somewhere up in the crossbeams.

“That fireplace is new since my time,” Lady
Elgida remarked, looking around. “Just see how poorly the new stone
is matched to the original walls. Where are the tapestries? And
what happened to all the banners that used to hang from the
rafters? When I left here, banners from every battle that my Belai
ever fought in, and those of my son Kinen’s battles, too, were
hanging up there. All of those carved chests you see along the wall
were used to show off the silver, but the silver is gone now. How
cold the hall is,” she finished, drawing her cloak tightly about
her shoulders.