Firewalk (26 page)

As the advisers murmured among themselves, Randon leaned over to murmur into Kayli’s ear, “I asked Stevann to check all the food and drink for poison. And until we’re confirmed High Lord and Lady, he’ll continue to check every drop and morsel to cross your lips.”

Kayli winced at the thought, but she could not argue, although she found Randon’s reasoning dubious. True, the confirmation would end any hope that Randon would repudiate his bride and nullify the treaty with Bregond. But if she were to die before her child was born, Randon must remarry, and the treaty could then be broken, if Randon was prepared to risk the war with Bregond that would follow. No, Kayli and her children would not be safe until she had gained popular support or the citizens of Agrond had become accustomed to the idea of the treaty. Involuntarily, she pressed her hands protectively over her flat belly and waited for the uncomfortable meal to end.

In their rooms later, Randon waved aside Kayli’s concern at his advisers’ reception of his news.

“Of course it’s a shock to them,” he said. “And they don’t like surprises. But I plan to keep surprising them. Neither one of us can afford to be thought their puppet—by the people or by them, either.”

Randon sighed, and Kayli twisted in his arms to look at him. He was massaging his temple with the fingers of his free hand, his face twisted with pain.

“Randon, are you unwell?” she asked.

“It’s nothing.” But Randon withdrew his aim from her shoulders and leaned forward, one hand pressing his left temple, the other covering his left eye. He twisted away from the light of the fire.

“Randon? What is the matter?” Kayli knelt before him, trying to pry his hands from his face. “Shall I call Stevann?”

“No—” His voice was weak. “There’s a potion.”

He waved his hand vaguely at his chest at the foot of the bed.

Kayli opened the chest. At first she saw nothing but Randon’s clothes, but as she pushed them heedlessly aside, she uncovered a small metal flask. She pulled out the stopper and carried it back.

“Is this what you wanted?” she asked.

Randon groped for the flask as if he did not see it, and in the end Kayli had to guide it to his lips. As soon as she had laid the flask aside, she pulled the tapestry screen in front of the fire, blocking its light, and helped Randon hobble over to the bed. His face relaxed slightly; Kayli hoped that meant the pain was easing as well.

“Randon, is there nothing further I can do for you?” Kayli asked gently, smoothing his hair away from his forehead. “Are you certain I should not send for Stevann?”

“Ice,” Randon muttered. “Ask the kitchen to send up crushed ice in a cloth.”

Afraid to leave him alone, Kayli rang for one of the maids. When the girl heard her request, she nodded.

“Got one of his headaches, has he?” the girl asked sympathetically. “I’ll have the ice up straightaway, and I’ll have cook brew up that clover-and-mint tea he likes. Always settles him after.”

True to her word, the maid was back with the ice in a cloth after only a few moments.

“Just put that on his head where it hurts, over his eye,” the maid said. “He’ll be right again in a bit. I’ll just bring the tea to the sitting room and leave it.”

Randon had turned on his side, away from the screened fire, and his wrist covered his eyes, but he seemed to relax a little more. He let Kayli gently move his wrist away, and he shuddered, gasping with a mixture of pain and relief, when she laid the icy cloth over his left eye and forehead. His right eye opened and focused on Kayli.

“I’ll survive,” he said, and his voice had some of his old cheer in it. “My father had headaches like this, too, from time to time, and so does Terralt. It passes soon.”

“Has it been like this all your life?” Kayli asked, worried despite Randon’s reassurances. She had known novices at the Order who had such headaches, but when pain struck, one of the priests or priestesses took them away for special rituals which apparently helped them. Unfortunately Kayli had no idea what sort of spell might have been used; that seemed more a matter for healing magic than the power of the Flame.

“Well, since I was fourteen or so,” Randon mumbled. “Look, Kayli, it’s nothing. A good night’s sleep’ll put me to rights.” He was silent for a moment, then: “Kayli, would you mind sending for some tea, clover, and—”

“And mint?” Kayli smiled. “Wait a moment.”

The tray was already waiting in the sitting room. Kayli poured Randon a cup, then helped him sit up to drink it, still holding the cloth over his eye. By the time he’d drained the cup, his uncovered eye was half closed.

“I’ll sleep now,” he said thickly, letting the empty cup tumble from his grasp. “Just... sleep.” His head lolled to the side and his hand fell away from the icy cloth.

Kayli lifted the cloth away, but Randon did not stir, nor did he rouse when she slipped off his boots. She left him in his surcoat and trousers and simply pulled the covers over him; better to let him sleep than risk disturbing him.

Kayli, however, was too shaken to sleep. She undressed and lay down beside Randon, watching him in the dying light of the fire. She had thought that the news of her pregnancy would bring joy and celebration. Instead, she had passed an evening as tense and miserable as any since she’d left the Order.

Kayli sighed and began one of the meditations to bring sleep. For at least the next two days, she would need all her faculties about her, and a weary mage, High Priestess Brisi had taught her, was a mistake waiting to be made.

Chapter Ten

There, that’s perfect.” Endra minutely adjusted the last jewel-tipped pin in Kayli’s hair. Kayli swallowed a groan. Endra and the maids had braided fine gold chains into each of her thirty-nine braids, which were now unbearably heavy. And then there were the pins, to hold her braids in the complex loops and whorls traditional for a noble wedding in Bregond. Then there was her heavy wedding gown, the petticoats to hold the skirt out, and the jewelry Randon had given her, the oddly long and narrow (and overly tight) gold-embroidered formal slippers—and, of course, the necessary creams, powders, and perfumes. By the time Endra deemed her ready, Kayli felt stiff and heavy and awkward, like a walking doll.

“Where is Randon?” she asked her maid distractedly.

“Likely already down at the entry way,” Endra told her. “There appears to be some ridiculous Agrondish custom that the groom shouldn’t see the bride until the ceremony—never mind that the two of you are already married twice over. I’m to take you down the backstairs and through the kitchens so he won’t catch a glimpse of you, and you’re to wait in the great hall until he’s outside. Then Brother Santee will take you out to him when the ceremony starts.”

The older woman patted Kayli’s shoulder reassuringly. “There, there, this’ll be the last of it,” she said comfortingly. “Why don’t you go have a peep out the window? You’ll be amazed at the front court.”

Kayli tottered to the window and peered out, then gasped. The eastern sky was only just beginning to blush pink, but already the courtyard was filled with tables, and the tables were rapidly filling with food. Some came from the kitchens—Kayli could see baskets and trays being brought out—but more came, apparently, from the city. Carts rattled in at the gate, and small figures below unloaded the carts and wagons onto the tables. Kayli could see Stevann wandering to and fro, probably casting his spells to assure that no poisoned food or drink could endanger the royal couple.

Kayli sighed. In Bregond, noble marriages were not public spectacles, especially when the marriage was made after a child was already conceived, and most particularly when the fact of the child’s prior conception was known outside the household. The very notion was unseemly. Kayli was embarrassed already.

Anida joined her at the window and sighed, too.

“Seems they’ve tried to make it as nasty for you as they could ever since you arrived, lady,” she said, shaking her head. “Wouldn’t surprise me much if they insisted on parading you down the streets in your shift in a few months so the peasants could see the swell of your belly.”

“I have tried to honor Agrondish custom as best I could,” Kayli said, “but I fear I have reached my limits today. What a spectacle I shall be.” She shuddered.

Devra leaned her head in the door.

“Lady, they’re nearly ready,” she said breathlessly. “You’re to come down now.”

Kayli took a deep breath, then nodded to Endra. She followed the midwife down the backstairs, hoisting her heavy skirt higher after she stumbled twice. If Agrondish weddings demanded such feats as scurrying around backstairs and corridors, then brides should be allowed to dress accordingly.

Despite the bustle outside, the kitchens were empty; doubtless all the kitchen staff were already working at the great tables. A crowd of servants clustered around the half-closed front entry, however, peering out through the opening. Brother Santee hurried forward, taking Kayli’s arm.

“They’re almost ready,” he said. “Your lord made a speech before they started; I think he wants to make sure the crowd won’t turn ugly when you come out. There’s guards enough out there to conquer a small nation.”

The servants moved aside to let them through. Brother Santee peered out through the opening, waited for what seemed an eternity. Kayli could hear voices droning outside—Randon, Lord Calder. At last Brother Santee nodded to someone outside the door and led her forward.

Randon was there, stiff and awkward in his best surcoat and cape, standing before Lord Calder at the top of the steps. She stepped to meet him, clasped the hand he extended.

Mutters from the crowd held back by the line of guards at the foot of the steps. A few cheers. A few hisses. Kayli ignored them both, her eyes locking with Randon’s.

The words of the ceremony. Kayli barely heard them; the phrases she parroted when Lord Calder prompted her seemed distant, dim. What did all of it matter, really? There was her, Randon, and the child growing in her belly. That was all.

More words, and now Kayli became confused. Had she made these same promises before? The ceremony seemed longer now, possibly because she felt so awkward and uncomfortable. Her feet ached wretchedly in the horrible slippers. Had more language been added to the marriage ceremony because this was the formal ritual? To her surprise, Randon was turning her away from the castle, to face the courtyard. Were they to speak their vows now with their backs to the priest? What kind of ridiculous custom could that be?

Movement beside and behind her; Kayli had to steel herself to keep from flinching. A cool pressure settled on her brow, and she could not help lifting her free hand to touch it. A slender, smooth metal band encircled her head. She glanced at Randon; someone had placed a plain gold band on his brow also. So she had just stood woolgathering through her own coronation. The thought was utterly amusing, Kayli standing stiff and doll-like in her finery, already pregnant, daydreaming through her coronation. Suddenly it was very hard to stifle laughter. She glanced sideways at Randon and saw the same stifled laughter in his eyes, and that cheered her. If he saw the ridiculousness of the situation, if they shared that much, then there was hope.

“I present to you,” Lord Calder said, “Randon and Kayli, High Lord and High Lady of Agrond.”

Silence. Long silence. Then a lone pair of hands clapping. Another. Another. At last there was enough hesitant applause that Kayli could ignore the few grumbles and hisses that reached her ears. Then the time for words was over, and Randon kissed her gently, to the obvious delight of many of the onlookers; now there was a little cheering and a few good-natured “Give it to her, your lordship!” calls.

“Say a few words to them,” Randon muttered quietly into Kayli’s ear. “I think they’re ready for that.”

Ah, but was she? Such a possibility had never occurred to her. Kayli took a deep, cleansing breath and released Randon’s hand, stepping forward. A hush gradually fell over the crowd.

“Some of you have seen me in audience, or riding,” she said at last. “Others are seeing me for the first time, as I am you. Some of you welcomed my arrival; others did not.” There were a few angry mutters; was her poisoner there?

“I did not wish to come here,” she said bluntly. “I did not expect happiness. I did not expect to fall in love with my lord at the moment my eyes first met his. But although I have not been among you long, I have come to value this land.” She reached for Randon’s hand again. “And this man I have wed. Likewise I do not expect the folk of this land to love and accept me immediately. Trust is earned, not granted. And if I cannot earn your trust and your respect, I pray that you will believe that it is I alone who have failed you, not my lord, who helps me to understand this land and its ways, and not my people, who sent me to make peace between our land and yours. I can only promise that I will try not to fail them, and you.”

Another moment of silence, then more applause—Kayli dared to hope more than before. Hurriedly she retreated to Randon’s side.

“What do we do now?” she asked him quietly.

“We do nothing,” he said, grinning, ”I do this.” To Kayli’s amazement, he swept her up into his arms, regardless of her finery, and carried her grandly over the threshold. This time the applause behind them was loud and unrestrained.

As soon as they were out of sight behind the door, Randon set Kayli back on her feet with a sigh of relief.

“Thank goodness,” he said, panting most unflatteringly. “Kayli, I do believe that rig you’re wearing doubles your weight. Come, my lady, and let’s take our appointed places for the rest of the morning’s tiresome duties.”

“There is more?” Kayli asked, trying to hide her dismay.

“Oh, yes,” Randon said ruefully. “Now we sit on our thrones and make pleasantries while all the lords and ladies present us with gifts and make their oaths of allegiance. Then we show ourselves around the courtyard to make the people happy. Then, by custom, we sign pardons releasing all those in the prisons. Then, if we’re fortunate, we may get some dinner. If it isn’t time for supper by then, that is. Come on, let’s get it done with, shall we?”