Spellbreakers (9 page)

Daria!

Twenty-three years earlier the pregnancy of Lady Ysabel,
the king’s cousin, and lady-in-waiting to the young queen, had been the scandal
of the decade for the Escarran court. Noblemen were entitled to as many
bastards as they could beget, of course, but, it was the old story—it was
different for a woman. Dee had been very fond of his young, spirited, beautiful
cousin, and did not pass judgment on her “misfortune”. He was sorry for the
consequences it had brought on her, her disgrace, the loss of her handsome but
commoner Umbrian lover, the illness that had consumed her, and finally killed
her at the child’s birth.

It might have been the story of some inferior tragic
ballad, a pretty worthless, crummy tale, really, but for the fact that the
tragic ballad had left Daria behind. The bastard daughter of a handsome but
lowly stable master, her destiny would have been quite uncertain, if Dee had
not spoken up for her, out of affection and respect for his cousin’s memory.
She had been raised at Castel Argell instead of being exiled to some discreet
home where she could be decently forgotten. Dee had always kept an eye on her,
but trying not to interfere too much in her life, because he was frankly too
amused by what she had become.

She was, not to put too fine a point to it, a terrible
brat. Dee knew for a fact that she regularly drank and diced with the stable
hands and guards and that she was perfectly familiar with every tavern and pot
shop in the town; she had an easy, open way with people and was perfectly
comfortable with the small folk of the castle and all sort of exotic characters
that came and went from Argell at markets and fairs. She had always been
independent to the point of recklessness. Perhaps she was a hazard. Perhaps she
was the best companion Leal could have on the road. She
was
wholly
devoted to her lady and friend.

Leal needed someone faithful, trustworthy, practical,
and quick-witted, someone with some knowledge of the world. Even if she had had
an unusually liberal upbringing, for a royal princess, Leal would be utterly
lost out there on her own.

For all his pondering, the deciding consideration in
the end was love. In truth, whatever he may say, he was sick to the heart
thinking of his Leal married to Black Admund. He
was
a monster, by all
accounts, and it would be a criminal waste to send her off to Yllmenau alone to
be wed. He could not help thinking that it was better for Leal to be lost in
the wild somewhere in the wild with Daria than married to him. However far-fetched
this plan may be, it would put Leal out of Admund’s reach.
One
way or another.

And so it was that the next morning, he summoned the
two girls to his library.

****

“I believe that I can see to it that you are not
missed for a day or two. I will think of something,” said Dee gravely, pacing
up and down the library.

Leal took a deep breath of relief. He was wearing an
old dusty robe, and he looked utterly exhausted, but also totally determined.
All the misgivings and uncertainties of yesterday had gone. During the night he
had made his mind up, and he was going to help her.

“In that time you must get past the border and into
Hassia. I do not think Guillem will send out a search party abroad. It might be
impolitic. We are not at war with Hassia, but with the Challenge standing
things are tense nonetheless. It would be good for you two to be careful, too.
Try not to look like you are hiding, but do not go looking for trouble either.
The less you speak to people the better. Now here...” he drew out a large chart
of the western kingdoms beautifully penned on a whole sheepskin, and spread it
on his desk, weighing down the corners with four heavy books. “...here you see
the main merchant road from Escarra to Yllmenau. It goes all the way from
Castel Argell to the Konigsee and then north to Weltmund. I would not travel on
it within Escarra. Even disguised you might be recognized. There are many
smaller ways that go down in the same direction. But past the border it is the
easiest and safest road for you. It is well guarded against outlaws; there are
inns, good grazing and fountains all along. You should be able to make fairly
good time on it, with decent horses. It could bring you all the way to the
capital and beyond.
Unless you prefer to travel on the
Langwasser.
This is the Long Water of Hassia, here...” he showed a blue
line which crossed the road a couple of inches north east of the Escarran
border. “It is a pretty literal name—the whole Hassian language is somewhat
bald, if you ask me—but it gives the idea. It is an uninterrupted line of
rivers and canals that crosses the whole country. It meanders somewhat, but it
would take you all the way to the free port of Enskala, without a chance to get
lost, and without getting anywhere close to Admund and the Hassian court. It
would be your best choice, I believe.
Longer, but more
discreet.
Whatever you do, do not attempt to take ship in Weltmund.
There would be questions, dangerous questions, and in any case, much of the sea
trade between Kaleva and the western kingdoms passes through Enskala, and you
should be able to take ship there quite easily. It could still be risky, but
crossing the Narrows will take you to Nevraan in a fraction of the time that it
would take you to ride round the Karelian Sea. It is no more than a day’s
sailing, in good weather.”

The northern kingdoms, across the Narrows, were barely
sketched in the map. Escarra traded with them but only through Hassian and
Karelian middlemen. Few firsthand reports of those lands had ever come to
Escarra. Nevraan, the main port and capital of Kaleva, was marked on the map,
just across the sea from Enskala, the northernmost free port of the western
kingdoms, and Weltmund, its old Hassian rival.

“I do not need to stress that time is of paramount
importance if you are to reach Dalarna before the year is too old. I judge you
have perhaps eight weeks to get there, at the very maximum. It is well within
the powers of a determined traveler. But you must not dally, or get lost. Do
you still believe you can do it?”

Daria studied the map carefully.

“How accurate are these proportions?” she asked. Leal
could see that she was calculating distances, speed, and time in her head.

“Accurate enough.
It
should be about three hundred fifty leagues to travel, all in all, give or take
a hundred miles or so.”

“I think we can make it. But we’ll need good horses,
and that worries me a bit. Good horses get noticed on the road.”

Dee nodded. “I have thought of that. It worries me as
well. But I believe we must take the risk. You cannot take your own horses, of
course. They are indeed way too fine, and also well known in the nearby
countryside. But you can pick two good hunters from a stable I know. Nothing
flashy, but steady, thorough paced beasts that will carry you equally well over
a good road or a forest path.”

Daria sighed at the thought of leaving behind her
beloved black stud. But he was indeed a noticeable horse with his four white
socks and extraordinarily fine head, and Leal’s palomino gelding was even more
conspicuous. There was nothing for it.

“Agreed.
We will
also need money, good saddles, and good plain clothes, men’s clothes.”

Dee nodded again. “I will see to it.” Then he inclined
his head to one side and asked, musing, “Do you really think you can pass for a
boy?”

Daria grinned.
“Easily.”

She stood up, mussed her bangs, pulled most of her
blonde mane behind her
ears,
put her arms akimbo, with
a swaggering jut to her hip, thrusting her middle somewhat forward. Leal
laughed, but despite her smooth chin Daria
was
suddenly insolently
boyish, actually more so than most boys Leal knew. Indeed she was tremendously
attractive in a bad-mannered, delightfully coarse way. Leal suddenly realized
that this trip might contain some unexpected amusements.

“Wait until I bind in these embarrassments on my chest
and stuff a couple of socks down my flap, and you’ll see, dear cousin. And
you’d better get the hang of it, too, princess.
Unless you
prefer to travel as my lady-love, of course.”

****

Three days later Leal and Daria found some large
packages in their rooms. There was no hint of how they had gotten there. They
contained four pairs of simple, unadorned but well-made riding breeches, light
linen ones, and warm suede ones; four simple linen tunics; two light woolen
jackets; two fur lined jackets; two leather jerkins heavy with flat iron studs;
two pairs of good riding boots; and two riding great cloaks, split at the back,
with sleeves and hoods. All these things were clean and in good condition, and
pretty much the right size, but they had obviously been used before. At the
very bottom of the pack were two long heavy daggers with plain sheaths and
belts.

“I wonder who got robbed of all these clothes. It's
good that they look well-worn already,” said Daria, grinning. “Old Dee is as
clever as a brace of old foxes, I’ll give you that.”

That night Leal dined with the king and queen, Amata,
and little Beatriç, who still lived in the nursery. It was very rare for the
royal family to dine together in something like privacy, and Leal wondered if
Dee had arranged it somehow, or if it had just happened.

Daria was not there, of course. Queen Amara thought
she was a bad influence, and disliked the way Leal had always adored and
idolized her. When Leal had asked for Daria to be her “maid” the queen had
almost thrown a fit, and it had taken all of the king’s persuasive powers to
let the two girls be together. To be fair, Daria did not make a particularly
good chambermaid, since she was more at ease in the stable or in the mews than
at court, but she was the perfect companion for Leal, who was almost as good a
horsewoman as she was, and just as fond of large, fierce falcons, hawks and
hounds. They
studied,
messed, rode, hunted, hawked,
and, to all intents and purposes, lived together.

Still, despite this and the thin blood relation, Daria
was not welcome at the royal table. Leal had always resented that.

That night she didn’t know what to say. She had not
spoken to her father since the Ambassador had issued the Challenge. Guillem
looked old and troubled, but he made one or two awkward attempts at beginning a
conversation in their old comfortable tone. Leal
had
always been his
favorite daughter, despite her rebellious nature, or maybe because of it. She
had taken the place of the son he had never had. But Leal was wholly taken by
thoughts of her departure, and was grateful for Amata’s steady flow of vapid
talk.

Princess Amata was the true beauty of the family. She
had inherited Amara’s dark coloring, but also, surprisingly, Guillem’s pale
green eyes, which shone out like peridots beneath her long black lashes. At the
age of fifteen she already was at the center of an intricate court of love.

Amee would make such a perfect queen
, thought Leal wretchedly. Her stomach was closed. She
barely toyed with her food, and did not take up the conversation.

After dinner she ran up two stairs at a time to her
room.
 
She was not very surprised to find
Dee there. He was talking quietly to Daria over a smaller version of the map
they had been studying in the library.

“This is the night,” said Dee as soon as Leal joined
them. “Guillem will be in council all day long tomorrow. I let a few complex
issues pile up to see to it. The queen and Amee will be busy with the Andalouan
silk merchants. If you leave tonight, you might have a good thirty-six hours
before anybody misses you.”

“I am ready. We packed our things yesterday.”

Dee nodded.
“Very good.
I had
my groom pick two horses for you which I hope you will approve. But if not,
there are others you can choose at the stable.”

Leal was impressed by the respect Dee was showing for
Daria’s judgment. She had always known that Daria was as good a judge of horses
as anybody in the castle, but few men would admit that. Daria noticeably
swelled with gratification. Dee smiled down on both of them with fond pride. He
put a hand on a shoulder of each and squeezed.

“If you can do this, my dears, your names shall be
counted among those of the greatest heroes of the kingdom. But if you let
something bad happen to you two, I will never forgive myself. So, be careful.
Come, get ready. In one hour I will come for you. We’ll leave by my private
door.”

****

Daria nodded towards a chair and picked up a pair of
sharp shears.

“Come, we must ride light and fast. Time to lose some
weight,” she said cheerfully.

Leal sat down with a sigh and let her hair be cut. The
men of the western kingdoms invariably wore their hair short. Cutting her hair
was absolutely inevitable if she wanted to pass for a boy. Her hair had always
been her father’s joy. It was a smooth, shining, golden river, the same color
as her beloved horse, reaching almost to her waist. She mostly kept it plaited
and out of the way, but it was a hard blow to see the long braid falling like a
soft bright rope, followed by shorter loose locks as Daria adjusted the cut.
For the first time she began to feel that the new adventure would not be all
fun, but would require sacrifices of all kinds.
 
When Daria finished, Leal cut her hair in turn, and then they regarded
their faces side by side in the mirror, and despite the loss Leal smiled. They
did look like young boys. Perhaps too young, she thought, but there was nothing
for it. She felt somewhat naked without her long swinging braid, but she
thought that Daria had never been so handsome. The short cut gave her face an
even more decisive look. She kissed her mouth, and they embraced for a long
moment.