Magic Casement (37 page)

Who?
There was something familiar about that voice. “Yes?” she shouted.

“Inos!”
her aunt cried.

And
the voice replied: “It’s Rap!” Rap? Rap who? Rap?

“No!”
It couldn’t possibly be.

“Back
in the carriage!” Andor shouted, and he also drew his sword. “It
must be some sort of demon, I think. You agree, Proconsul? “

Yggingi’s
eyes had narrowed to slits. “I never met any forest demons. Old wives’
tales!” He cupped his hands to shout. “Come out and show yourself!”

“Tell
your men to lower their bows!” The voice was much closer, although there
was nothing in sight. “I am alone and unarmed. “

“I
think it must be a demon!” Andor insisted. “They can look like
anyone-very dangerous to trust a demon.” He appeared more upset than
anyone. He sounded almost shrill, and that was surprising, somehow.

Yggingi
seemed to think so. He eyed Andor curiously, then called to his men to lower
their bows. “Come out! “ he bellowed, more loudly than seemed
necessary.

And
a man stepped from behind a tree right in front of them. How he had come so
close without her seeing, Inos could not guess, but there he was-a slim young
man in soiled leather garments, holding out empty hands to show his lack of
weapons. He was panting.

“Inos!”
he said. Rap!

He
had grown-taller and wider. His clothes were incredibly filthy and his face
impossibly grimy, especially around the eyes. It seemed greasy, with the rain
running down it in droplets, and it looked much thinner than she remembered,
making his jaw look bigger than ever, his nose wider. He had a youth’s
thin moustache and patchy beard. He was bareheaded, his brown hair matted in
slimy tangles. Ugly! But it was Rap.

She
began to tremble, stupidly.

“He’s
no goblin, certainly,” Yggingi said to no one in particular. “That’s
close enough! Who are you?”

“The
princess knows me.”

“Do
you?” the proconsul asked.

“Yes,”
she said. “He’s one of my father’s stablehands. Rap? What are
you doing here? And what’s that on your face?” Then she caught a
whiff of an unbearable stench. “What’s that smell?” Her
stomach churned.

“That’s
goblin stink!” Yggingi said grimly. “Stand back from the ladies,
you!”

Rap
did not move, except to put his hands on his hips. He had obviously been
running and he spoke in short bursts. “Sorry about the perfume. No
bathtubs in the forest. I came to warn you that your father is dying, Inos. But
I see that you already know. “

Had
Rap also come all this way to warn her? She glanced up at Andor, who had his
jaw clenched and was scowling. “Sir Andor told me. “

“Oh,
it’s Sir Andor, is it?” Rap frowned fiercely. “I have another
warning for you, then.” He raised a hand and pointed. “Don’t
trust that man! He’s a-”

“Rap!”
she shouted. “What do you know of Sir Andor?”

“He
sold me to the goblins, that’s what I know about him. “ Sold him
to... Again Inos caught a whiff of that terrible smell.

Andor
raised his sword and took a step. She laid a hand on his arm to detain him. “Andor,
do you know Rap?”

“This
is not whoever you think it is, my darling. It’s a forest demon. They can
take many shapes. Don’t trust a word it says. They are very evil.”

“Andor!
Rap, how did you get here? Aunt Kade, it is Rap, isn’t it?”

“I
don’t know, dear. I never met him.”

“What
are you?” Yggingi demanded. “You’re not imp and you’re
not goblin.”

“It’s
a demon!” Andor insisted. “Or a wraith!”

A
wraith? Inos shuddered convulsively. Surely not?

“I’m
a faun.” Rap was still watching Inos. “A jotunn-faun mongrel, and
goblin by adoption. But not by choice-that was his doing.” And again he
pointed at Andor.

Inos
wondered why she could not just quietly faint, as ladies of quality were
supposed to do in moments of stress. Rap had always been so dependable! Others
might make up fantastic stories or play elaborate jokes, but Rap never had. And
it certainly seemed to be Rap, an older version of the boy she had knownexcept
for the moustache, and those barbaric tattoos.

“Rap,”
she said, forcing her voice down from the squeaks it wanted to use, “what
are those marks round your eyes?”

Rap
gaped for a moment, raising his hand to his face as if he had forgotten the
tattoos were there. “These?”

Andor
stepped back with a laugh. He sheathed his sword. “I did meet him!”
he said. “I didn’t recognize him in that goblin disguise. I met him
in Krasnegar. Tell her Highness how a goblin earns his tattoos, lad.”

“I
didn’t!” Rap shouted. “Didn’t what?” Inos asked.

“You
tell her, Proconsul,” Andor said. “No, you tell her.” Yggingi
was scowling. “He tortured a boy to death.”

And
Inos said, “No! “just as Rap repeated, “I didn’t!”

“He
must have done,” Yggingi said. “It’s their custom.”
Then Andor put his arm around Inos, and she was very grateful for it. “And
he’s the one who sold me the horses.”

“Sold
you the horses?” she repeated idiotically.

He
nodded, still staring at the apparition from the woods. “I asked some
people where I could acquire horses, and I was directed to that boy. We met in
a bar and he sold me two horses.”

Rap!
They must have been her father’s horses. There were no others in Krasnegar.
Of course Andor would not have known that. Rap, selling the royal horses? In
bars?

“Liar!”
Rap shouted. “He’s lying, Inos! We left Krasnegar together and he
sold me to the goblins. He bought safe passage for himself by selling-”

“Rap!
No! I won’t listen to-”

“Inos,
he’s a sorcerer!”

She
had rather liked Rap once, she remembered, when she was younger. Of course in
those days she had known very little about men and almost nothing about
gentlemen. Fortunately she knew better now, after Kinvale, and she could
appreciate the way Andor was keeping his temper in spite of the insults being
shouted by this filthy derelict. Rap had obviously reverted to some sort of
savage state-his faun ancestry coming out, probably.

“If
you were sold to the goblins, you’re in remarkably good shape!”
Yggingi said. “Spying for them, are you? Come forward here with your
hands high. “

“No!”
Rap said. “Inos, you know I wouldn’t lie to you!” Oh, Rap!
Her heart lurched. Then Inos looked up at Andor again. He smiled sadly and shook
his head. She saw how foolishly juvenile her momentary doubts must seem to
him-and how mature he was not to lose his temper at the insults or at her silly
wavering. She must not listen to any more nonsense, and that stench was making
her feel nauseated. Inos lifted her chin disdainfully and turned, letting Andor
lead her away.

“Inos!”
Rap shrieked. “He’s a mage, or a demon, or something-”

Yggingi
waved his men forward. “Bring him in! Tie him up.” Then all the
horses reared and screamed in inexplicable panic. Hooves flailed. Men were
hauled off their feet, or dragged through the mud. It seemed to be Inos who was
the source of terrorplunging mounts fled from her in both directions along the
road and even off into the undergrowth. Enormous animals bowled over whole
groups of soldiers. The officers’ roars were drowned in oaths and
whinnyings, splashings and thuds. Amid this instant chaos, she found herself,
with Kade and Andor, isolated on the trail as the whole cohort fought to regain
control of its frenzied livestock. The goblin apparition had vanished away into
drippy shadow under the ancient trees.

Andor
hurried Inos back to the coach. “Take cover in here!” he shouted
over the racket. “This may be an ambush.” Then he thrust her inside
and Aunt Kade, as well, while the troopers were struggling to restore order to
their mounts. Inos was glad to obey.

With
the carriage still canted at an absurd angle, she found herself being half
crushed by Aunt Kade, and yet she did not mind. The human contact was very comforting.

“It
was Rap,” she whispered, fighting tears and a heart as panic-stricken as
the horses.

“Yes,
dear.”

“But
selling Father’s horses? In bars?”

“If
he really did steal two of the palace horses,” Kade said, “then he
would have been found out, wouldn’t he?”

“Of
course!” There were not so many horses in the stables that two could go
missing undetected, and not so many hands that the thief could long remain
unknown. Stupid Rap! “So he was found out and ran away!”

“And
he must have taken refuge with the goblins,” her aunt agreed. “I
don’t know why he followed you south, dear. Perhaps he hoped to spin you
some fantastic story...”

“Perhaps.
That must be it.” Young men did tend to behave oddly at that age, she
knew. That was when the bad apples showed up-she had heard plenty of stories at
Kinvale and been given plenty warnings. Oh, Rap! “It wasn’t a
wraith, was it?”

When
a soul came before the Gods for weighing, the Evil was canceled out by the
Good, and the balance went to join the Good, and live evermore as part of the
Good. But in bad souls the residue was evil, and the Evil might reject it, to
leave it wandering as a wraith, haunting the night.

Kade
started. “Oh, I think it-he-was alive.”

“And
Rap wasn’t evil!” Yet if he had descended to selling horses in
bars, what else might he had done before he died? Inos shivered.

“I
don’t think it was a wraith,” Kade said firmly. “I don’t
think wraiths would smell that bad!”

Inos
managed to chuckle and nod. She was relieved to find that she agreed. It had
been Rap. Rap alive.

She
glanced around. The soldiers were recovering and restoring order, but there was
no one close to the coach. Not even Andor... “Aunt, how did Yggingi know
about Father? Why was he waiting at Kinvale when Andor arrived? This must have
been planned!”

Kade
flinched. “It was my fault, my dear.”

“Yours?
“

“Yes.
I let slip to Ekka that I was worried about your father’s health.
Chancellor Yaltauri was supposed to send me bulletins. He didn’t. “

“Then
Ekka’s behind this?” Now Inos began to understand. “I fear
so.”

“So
when--if--Father dies...”

“The
proconsul will proclaim the duke as king, I think. I have been very foolish,
darling. I did not see-”

Inos
pecked a kiss on her cheek. “But it was not Andor?”

“No!
I don’t think so.”

“I
trust Andor!” Inos said firmly. “Don’t you?”

“I...
“ Just for an instant Kade hesitated, and then she smiled. “You’re
asking me to choose between him and that very smelly boy?”

Inos
laughed and hugged her. Invisible birds burst into glorious inaudible
symphonies of song-no one had betrayed her except the odious dowager duchess!
Kade had been foolish, but not evil. Andor was innocent-Inos would doubt him no
more. Seeing Rap again beside him had somehow shown her how vastly inferior any
other man must be. Andor, oh, Andor!

A
wolf, a goblin, and a faun who had farsight-there had never been any danger
that the troopers would find them.

After
an hour or so, the expedition moved off along the mountain trail. Inos and her
aunt were riding, and the coach had been left where it was. Inos’s mount
was staying very close to Andor’s, but Rap could not tell at that
distance whether or not it was secured there by a tether. He could not have
summoned it anyway, because he did not know which horse it was. Andor might not
know that; but, in any case, Rap had already discarded that plan as being too
dangerous for Inos. It would also bring the whole imp army after him, and
obviously his fantastic story was not going to be believed.

In
thick woods on the hill above the road, he used his farsight to watch them all
go. He was soaking wet and miserable, hunched on the ground, savagely digging
holes in the moss with a stickjab... jab... Fleabag was sleeping, but he alone
of the three of them heard the hooves through the muffling timber. He lifted
his head to listen. Little Chicken was sitting on a fallen log, elbows on
knees, waiting as patiently as the trees themselves.

Jab...
jab...

Rain
was dribbling down Rap’s neck, and he perversely left his hood down and
let it. Almost he wished that the meeting had not happened, that he had missed
Inos and gone on to lose himself in the Impire. But unlikely things happened to
those who knew words of power-so Andor had taught him. And there was only this
one pass through the mountains.

Spurned!
Jab! Rejected, even by Inos! Jab!

But
Andor had a word of power and he would be believed over anyone else. Trust was
his talent.

Jab!
The stick broke. Rap rose to his feet.

“Now
we do what?” Little Chicken asked. Rap sighed. “You still my trash,
goblin?”

This
show of caution seemed to amuse the burly young woodsman. He nodded.

Despairingly
Rap thought of the hard weeks ahead. “Now we run back,” he said, “back
to Krasnegar.”

Damsel
met:

Fairer
than feigned of old, or fabled since

Of
faery damsels met in forest wide

By
knights of Logres, or of Lyones,

Lancelot,
or Pelleas, or Pellenore.

Milton,
Paradise Regained

Casement High

Even
to Krasnegar, spring came eventually. The hills were white and uninhabited yet,
and the causeway still poulticed with crumpled ice floes and drifts, but brave
men had trodden a footpath across it already, and a few more weeks would see
the horses and cattle staggering back to the mainland.

There
was no moon. Pale auroras danced in the sky like giant ghosts as Rap and Little
Chicken emerged from one of the shore cottages, yawning and shivering in the
dregs of sleep. A man could barely see his feet in that uncertain glimmer. ‘