Secrets of the Night Special Edition (61 page)

Conneid! Who else could it be? Her stomach clenched. Look how fear of Balor had warped so many attitudes in the kingdom. Formerly patient and polite, these city guards had become brutes under Balor's harsh rule, inspiring fear and hatred in Avador's citizens.

"Hurry up and tell me what you know! I've wasted enough time with you."

Ideas crammed her mind. If she could throw him off . . . "Why, yes, lieutenant. I saw a man and his pregnant wife riding southeast in the direction of
Sligo
, as if all the demons of the Underworld were after them." Her face assumed a stern cast. "I hope you catch these traitors."

The lieutenant turned to shout orders to the guards. "Southeast, hurry! Get horses from the city stables. I'll catch up with you."

"Right, sir! We're on our way!" The guards dashed from the street.

The lieutenant pulled her close, his hand brushing her breast. His breath stank of ale and onions. "Thank you, sweetheart. Don't think I'll forget your help. If we find our man, I'll pay you double. Where's your, uh, place of business?"

He thought she was a pleasure woman! Careful to hide her distaste, she gave him a beguiling smile. "Number 9 Pleasure Alley. And lieutenant, you'll get your money's worth from me."

The officer grinned. "I'm sure I will." He released her and raced on, soon disappearing around a corner.

Keriam breathed a long sigh of relief as the sun's first hesitant rays erased night's darkness and touched the streets of Moytura with a pale glow. Here and there, industrious shopkeepers mopped the cobblestones in front of their stores with soapy water, and vendors set up their wares on three-tiered wooden stands. Beggars slept within the concealment of dark storefronts, heads resting on their cloth sacks, snoring in careless oblivion.

Retrieving her bag from the garbage heap, she brushed it off, then replacing her shoes, rushed on to
Perfume Lane
, painfully aware of the passing time. With desperation lending her speed, she dashed through the city's many byways, but slowed down when early-morning proprietors cast her suspicious glances. Shifting to a more sedate pace, she covered the distance to
15 Perfume Lane
, where a sign hanging in front of the store revealed three large bars of soap, proclaiming its merchandise. She found the key where Maudina had indicated and unlocked the front door.

* * *

Even as night’s darkness surrendered to the sun’s first pale glow, and farmers’ carts filled with produce and freshly-plucked chickens rattled across the streets, sleep still held Radegunda in its somnolent grip. Normally an early riser, she’d slept late this day, after staying up until the early morning hours to await Princess Keriam. Unable to keep her eyes open any longer, she’d finally yielded to sleep, terribly disappointed and worried about the princess. Through a slumberous fog, she heard someone knocking on the door.

"Radegunda!"

What
? Radegunda jerked awake and stared around the room, surprised to find herself in bed, faint sunlight lifting the darkness from the room. Her mind still hazed by sleep, her eyes gritty and aching, she raised herself on her elbows.

Someone was knocking on the door. Fear bridled her movements, for surely a caller at this early hour meant trouble--a summons from the new king, questions about the princess--yet she realized that refusal to answer would only intensify her dilemma. She threw her covers aside and--

"Radegunda, are you there?"

Princess Keriam! She breathed a long, slow sigh. "Madam, come in. The door's not locked."

She rose from the bed, bare feet touching the cold wooden floor, and slipped into her woolen robe, then hustled to greet the princess.

"Ah, Radegunda!" Princess Keriam entered, her appearance a far cry from the refined noblewoman the healer remembered. Her dark hair hung in tangled strands down her back, her stained dress torn, her shoes scuffed and dusty. Protocol forgotten, the two women rushed together and hugged, both fighting tears.

With watery eyes, Radegunda drew back, shocked by the princess's calloused hands, her tanned face, her sinewy build. "Madam, you have no idea how worried I've been about you, how glad I am to see you now!"

Brushing the tears from her eyes, the princess set the key on a table. "And I've missed you so!" She frowned, a note of distress infecting her voice. "But I can't stay here; it will only bring trouble on you. I fear Balor will send soldiers after me, so--"

"So we go to my brother, as I told Maudina we would. Since I lent him money and delivered his children--now grown, by the way--he owes me a few favors. Gimme but a few minutes to git my things together, then we'll be on our way. Just wait . . ." She threw her a questioning glance. “I’ll wager you'd like somethin' to drink."

"How did you guess?"

Radegunda poured a large mug of water from a brass pitcher and handed it to the princess. "Drink as much as you can, since I don't have no water bag." While the princess drank, Radegunda rushed about, opening and closing drawers, throwing underclothes and dresses into a leather bag.

The old woman gave her a frank look. "Madam, you're gonna need a cloak. I got an extra one here, besides a couple of dresses I c'n alter later to fit you. Ain't no trouble, madam," she added.

"Thank you. But as for you . . ." Setting the empty mug on the table, Keriam looked heartsick. "I know what Maudina said about your brother, but you don't need to stay there with me." Her gaze covered the small room, her eyes darting from corner to corner. "Your store . . . you'll need the money."

Radegunda closed the leather bag with a sharp click. "Adsaluta can manage the store. She's a widow; she c'n use the money, since I let her keep half the proceeds. I told her I may visit my brother one of these days--didn't tell her why. She don't know about my offer to help you." She gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, madam. I got this all worked out. But we gotta hurry!"

"Of course!" Fatigue enervated Keriam. She wanted only to lie down and sleep for the rest of the day. But she mustn't tarry, could not surrender to the exhaustion that seeped through every bone, every muscle of her body.

Several minutes later, Radegunda looked around the room. “Well, I guess that’s all. Let’s leave now, if you’re ready,” she said, heading for the door.

Only dim sunlight washed across the windowless second-floor landing and the steps leading downward. "I'll go first," Radegunda offered, preceding Keriam to the first floor. The wooden steps creaked under the witch's heavy tread, the newly-polished steps slippery and smelling of beeswax. Keriam grasped the wooden railing with each cautious step, anxiety courting her the entire distance. What if the king's officers waited outside the front door this very minute, ordered to return her to the palace for punishment? And Radegunda, too. Regret tightened her stomach; she should never have come here, should never have endangered this kind, helpful woman.

They reached the first floor, a room filled with delicious fragrances and tempting products, merchandise that would have lured Keriam in a less crucial situation.

"Mustn't forget this," the healer said, reaching for a silk rose that rested on the counter. "When I put this in the window, that's a sign to Adsaluta that I want her to manage the store." She tied the rose to a string that dangled in front of the window above the door, then looked around one more time. "Can't think of anything else."

She led Keriam outside. "Adsaluta's got a key," she explained, locking the door behind her.

Both of them strolled the streets, outwardly carefree, as if this day were like any other. Still, fear dogged Keriam's footsteps, a terror she tried to hide with casual talk and an occasional smile. A few early-morning travelers roamed the cobblestones; now and then a drunk lurched from the city's many taverns, staggering past. Even now, her mind worked as she agonized over how she could overthrow Balor and restore the House of Moray to the throne. As yet, no ideas came to her.

The two women wove their way among the intricate streets and alleys, past the swordsmith's shop and the tailor's, soon reaching the many warehouses that ringed the city. Once beyond Moytura, they increased their pace but dared not run, lest their haste invite suspicion. Balor--curse Endora!--had spies everywhere.

Ragegunda's breathing came in gasps, her free arm hanging at her side. "Not far to go," she said as they left the city behind and entered farm country to the east of the forest, its gently-rolling hills sheltering crops ready for harvest. The
Gorm
Forest
loomed miles to their left, this land of torathors, those monsters that inhabited its depths. Its dense growth of oaks, hickories, and pines ranged over hills and valleys, an endless procession of greens and yellows, its colors changing with the season. “Should be there soon.”

Dark, angry gray clouds scudded across the sky, a sign of imminent rain? Keriam hoped. The temperature dropped and sharp gusts tugged at her hair, the wind whipping her clothing to her body. Corn stalks bent in a wind that flattened grass and vegetables to the ground, but the grass in the fields remained brown and dry, begging for rain.

Keriam forced a smile, then bent over to empty pebbles from her shoes. "Your help means more to me than you'll ever know. Some day I hope to repay you." The blisters on her feet burned with every step, her shoes' rubbing a continual torment. Visions of a long soak in warm water tantalized her, a wish she suspected would remain unsatisfied. She'd settle for a place to sit and a mug of hard cider. And even that's probably expecting too much, she thought as she ran her tongue across her dry, cracked lips while clouds of dust swept across the road.

Radegunda waved her hand. "Forgit about payment, madam. I'm happy to do whatever I can, payment for what you already done for me. But . . ."She frowned.

Keriam stopped and slanted her an anxious look. "Radegunda, what is it?"

The old woman stopped, too, meeting her gaze. "Princess, I'm thinkin' that yer fancy talk is gonna give you away. Can't you talk, well, like me?"

Keriam bit her lip, faced with this unforeseen problem. "This is the way I've talked all my life. I fear I can't change now." She sighed, considering all possibilities, when an inspiration brightened her voice. "What if I pretend to be mute?" She gathered strands of hair from across her face and tucked them behind her ears, then resumed walking.

An expression of pure relief came over her face. "You think you c'n do that, madam? You'll have to remember to never say a word, no matter what. Yer life depends on it, mine, too, come to think of it. Oh, I know my brother wouldn't turn you in, ordinarily. But if the king's men come snoopin' around, askin' questions and makin' threats, one of the servants might betray you if faced with torture. Much as the people love you, madam--and they all do, with the exception of Balor's lackeys--it takes a very strong person to withstand havin' their nails pulled out."

Keriam's stomach knotted. "Then I'll become the best actress you've ever seen. As for threats to the servants, I won't let it come to that. I'll turn myself in before anyone suffers because of me." Turn herself in, and then what? Imprisonment? Torture? She shivered, deliberately shifting her mind to other matters.

The dark clouds blew to the west, replaced by a blue sky and brilliant sunlight. The temperature rose. Perspiration streamed down Keriam's back and plastered her clothes to her body. And still no rain!

"There!" Radegunda pointed ahead. "There it is, my brother's farm." An old farmhouse hulked in the distance, large but weatherbeaten, its once white wooden frame now a dirty gray, its wooden shingles loose. The surrounding farmland appeared neat and well-tended, Keriam observed as they neared the property. Countless rows of ready-to-harvest corn waved in the breeze, and fields flourished with other vegetables--kale, endive, lettuce, and onions. The sweet scent of strawberries floated their way, making her mouth water, her stomach grumble.

A narrow dirt path flanked by a yardful of scraggly grass and weeds led up to three sagging wooden steps, the boards loose and creaking. A narrow porch fronted the house, enclosed by a railing that lacked more boards than it held. Two small windows on either side of the door greeted the sunlight, their surfaces clear and shiny, in defiance of the house's decrepit facade.

Keriam and Radegunda mounted the front steps. Careless with exhaustion, Keriam nearly tripped on a loose board but caught herself in time.

The enchantress raised her hand to knock on the door.

"Radegunda!" A tall, burly man with nut brown skin and white hair emerged from the side of the house, his unbelted linen tunic tattered and stained, his feet clad in short leather boots. Raising a foot up on the porch, he swung himself over the railing, heedless of the board that broke off and fell to the ground.

"What you doin' here, not that I ain't glad to see ya." His glance covered Keriam, a welcoming smile on his face. Brother and sister hugged, then Radegunda introduced Keriam. "Gwern, this here's Deirdre. She's had some bad luck, poor girl. Thieves robbed and killed her husband, took all the money they owned. Now she can't pay the rent on their shop and got nowhere to go. I brought her here 'cause she wants to earn her keep, if that's all right with you. But she can't speak," she said, as if in afterthought. "The shock of seein' her husband killed took her voice away."