The Baker's Boy (77 page)

Maybor awoke and
felt the warmth of a body next to his. The servant girl Bonnie. She was fast
asleep and looked better for it, lips firmly closed over her crooked teeth. He
found he had little appetite for lovemaking and shook the girl awake. "Be
off, girl, and quick about it." She looked startled but obeyed his orders,
hurriedly pulling her clothes on. Maybor, who normally liked to watch a woman
dress, turned away with disinterest. When she had finished dressing, the girl
coughed to get his attention, undoubtedly wanting some trinket or the promise
of a further assignation. Maybor had no desire to see her again; she had been
witness to his lack of performance and was therefore to be despised. He threw
her a gold coin and watched with distaste as she scrambled eagerly for it.

He stood up and
went to his mirror, as he did most mornings since Winter's Eve. He checked the
skin on his face: the sores had nearly disappeared now and only a slight
redness remained. Although the outward signs of the poisoning had all but gone,
Maybor knew his throat and lungs would never fully recover. He wheezed now when
he breathed-an unpleasant sound, like an old man.

Crandle came into
the bedchamber bearing his breakfast: warm buttered rolls and smoked herring.
It was his favorite and he judged his servant had brought it as a small act of
consolation: Crandle had been aware of his plans to betroth Melliandra to
Prince Kylock. Maybor was glad that his intentions for the most part had
remained secret-it would have caused him great humiliation if all the court had
known about his failed attempt to marry his daughter to the heir.

"Her Highness
has sent word for you to be in her chambers within the hour, my lord."

"Very
good." The queen appeared most eager to see him; it was barely after
sunup. He knew what she would try and do: she would be charming, maybe even
flirt a little, asking how comfortable he found his new bed, and then she would
implore him to remain loyal and support her. Maybor squashed a herring against
the bread, releasing its smoky aroma. She would find him no doting lackey. He
had no intention of guaranteeing his support. Let the woman fret and worry, he
would no longer be at her beck and call. "Crandle," he cried,
"bring me more herring and fill me a bath."

"But, my
lord, there isn't any time. The queen awaits."

"Then she
will have to wait a little longer." Maybor's tone brooked no further
argument and the servant dashed off obediently.

Sometime later,
when the lord was well fed and washed, he made his unhurried way to the queen's
chamber. He had taken great care with his appearance-the day before Baralis had
worn his chancellor's chain, Maybor had no such sign of office, but he did have
the most fabulous collection of gold and jewels in the kingdoms. He wore a
golden tore around his neck with two matching sapphires at each end, huge
stones the color of midnight. There was no mistaking their value: one such
stone would be worth great riches, but two, perfectly matched, was such a
rarity as to set their value beyond guessing. It was well known that the queen
loved sapphires more than any other stone, and they would not go unnoticed.

"Lord Maybor,
I am pleased that you could come." She held out her hand to be kissed with
no sign of annoyance at being kept waiting. He took her hand but failed to
bring it to his lips. Their eyes met and the queen was the first to look away.
She walked a short distance from him and then spoke again. "I'm sure you
were a little disappointed at hearing my announcement yesterday." She
waited, giving him a chance to deny the charge. Maybor did not speak and she was
forced to continue. "I am sorry that you heard of the betrothal in such a
public manner."

"I believe
you promised me I would be the first to know." There was accusation in his
voice.

"You are
right, I did," she demurred. "I can only say in my defense that
events have moved swiftly."

"You
certainly wasted no time finding a replacement for my daughter." He cared
little if he sounded bitter. There was nothing to be gained by courtly manners
now.

"Lord Maybor,
I think you forget that your own daughter brought this misfortune down upon
you. If she had not taken it upon herself to run away, then matters would be
looking very different for both of us today."

"It was Lord
Baralis' idea, was it not," said Maybor, deliberately ignoring her words,
"to betroth Kylock to Catherine of Bren?" The queen looked down at
her hands; it was all the answer he needed. "Tell me, is he forcing you
into this?"

"No, Lord
Maybor." The queen spoke with harsh dignity. "Lord Baralis may have
suggested it, but it is my decision. No one forced my hand."

Maybor did not
doubt the queen thought she spoke the truth, but he knew Baralis had a way of
compelling people to do what he wanted by making them believe it was best for
them. What insidious words of persuasion had he whispered in her ear?

"I did not
call you here for you to question my decision, Lord Maybor," reprimanded
the queen mildly.

Maybor had little
desire to mince words. "What did you bring me here for? To secure my
allegiance? My support? Maybe to try and buy them-with another jeweled bed, perhaps?"

"Lord Maybor,
I undertand your acrimony, but I think it best if you hear me out before making
accusations." She looked at him levelly. "You were there when I
announced that Baralis was to be envoy for Kylock in Bren." Maybor nodded
and she continued. "I want you to be the second envoy. The Crown's envoy,
representing myself and the king. I want you to travel to Bren and oversee the
arrangements for the betrothal. I need not tell you I have little trust in
Baralis. 1 would feel happier knowing that you were keeping an eye on
him." The queen paused, allowing Maybor to take stock of the offer. He was
careful to show no emotion. "Of course, as Crown's envoy your position in
Bren would be superior to Lord Baralis'." A tiny smile graced the queen's
pale lips.

This was certainly
unexpected, thought Maybor. The queen was turning out to be a most ingenious
woman. In one simple offer she was seeking to retain his loyalty, monitor
Baralis, and very probably have Baralis monitor him. It was tempting, though;
to go to Bren, to be at the forefront of such a historic event and at the same
time be a source of provocation and annoyance to Baralis-the man would detest
his being in Bren and loathe his superior rank.

The queen took his
silence for misgiving. "Lord Maybor, I must stress the fact that I cannot
let you represent the Crown in Bren unless you can assure me that you will not
allow personal enmity to cloud your judgment. I am most anxious for this match
to go through and will tolerate no attempts at interference."

"Your
Highness does me great honor with this proposal." Maybor spoke
plaintively, hoping to ease the queen's doubts.

"What do you
say then, Maybor?" She dropped his title in an attempt at rakishness.

"I will be
pleased to serve as Crown's Envoy in Bren." He bowed slightly and the
queen rushed over and kissed him affectionately on his cheek.

"Good. I am
glad you agreed." There was unmistakable relief on the queen's face; she
had successfully brought him back into the fold. "Here," she said,
handing him a small object. "Look upon the future queen of the Four
Kingdoms." He took it from her. It was a miniature portrait showing a
picture of a golden-haired girl. She was undeniably beautiful, but a little
insipid when compared to his own daughter.

He could not bring
himself to praise the girl. "When do we set off for Bren?" he asked,
handing the portrait back. "Within ten days. Baralis has already started
making the arrangments."

"It will be a
hard journey. The weather is bad and there's the Halcus to attend to."
Maybor's mind was already racing ahead. He would have the queen agree to allow
him to take some of his own men with him. He would feel safer at night knowing
loyal men were around him.

"You will
have an escort of five score Royal Guard."

"I would feel
happier if I could take a score of my own men."

"Done!"
The queen smiled widely, showing her small, white teeth. She moved over to a
low table where a flagon of wine was waiting with two glasses. Had she been
that sure of him? She saw Maybor comprehend the significance of the two
glasses. "You cannot blame a woman for hoping," she said by way of an
explanation as she poured the wine.

She handed him a
glass and took the other for herself.

"To
Bren," she said, raising the glass. "May it prove to be a most advantageous
partner."

"To
Bren," echoed Maybor.

Jack had not slept
well since the incident at the hunting lodge, but over the past two nights
things had gotten worse. He had been plagued by unsettling nightmares. They
were unusually vivid. He had dreams of one man stabbing another in the
moonlight. Even now, in daylight, with a pale sun glimmering, he shuddered to
think of the images.

They had been on
the eastern road for many days. Jack was beginning to think that their pursuers
had given up on them, for they had seen no signs of them in the past days and
the only people that traveled the road were farmers, tinkers, and tradesmen.
The road itself was now in better condition, packed snow lay firmly atop the
mud, and Jack and Melli had taken to walking it now that the threat of pursuit
had lessened. They still dived into the nearest ditch or bush whenever they
heard a rider approaching, though.

Jack decided that
the snow was probably making them harder to track-their footsteps were covered
over and if the men were using dogs it would be difficult for them to follow a
scent buried beneath deep snow.

Unfortunately the
snow was making it increasingly difficult for them to find places to spend the
night. They risked frostbite and exposure by sleeping on the ground under such
conditions. Last night they'd sneaked into a dairy farmer's barn and slept
amongst the cows and hay. Melli had awakened early and found the farmer's store
of winter cheeses. The large, red wheels had looked incredibly tempting to
them. Jack had not wanted to take any, but Melli had insisted, telling him that
she was already a convicted horse thief and one round of cheese would make
little difference. He could find no argument with that and consequently his
pack was now heavier than it had been in some time.

Yesterday they had
passed close to a small village. They saw the turn-off and then later the smoke
above the treetops. Jack had considered slipping into the town to buy some
badly needed food, but Melli had pleaded with him not to go. She was afraid,
but Jack suspected it wasn't for herself, but for him. He could understand why:
she didn't want to risk another incident. What happened to the mercenaries had
shocked Melli badly. Every now and then Jack would catch her looking at him,
and there was wariness on her face.

What must she
think of him? Was she scared of him? He doubted that. Melli was not the type of
girl to be afraid of a mere baker's boy. But he was more than that now; she
knew it, and ever since the mercenaries' attack, she'd treated him differently.
Almost with respect.

The kind of
respect he'd seen hunters use on trapped bears. Jack smiled. Is that what his
powers had made of him-a dangerous animal? Still, he had to admit, it was
rather nice to have Melli treat him with more regard. In fact, things weren't
really that bad: he was off on an adventure to find a new life, perhaps
learning something about his mother on the way, he was free from Master
Frallit's temper tantrums, and there was a beautiful girl at his side.

Jack laughed out
loud: he sounded just like a hero from one of Baralis' books. Some men might
even consider him lucky.

Melli came running
back at the sound of his laughter. She'd been fetching water from a stream.
"What's the matter?"

"I'll be the
only hero who knows how to roll shortening." Melli appeared so worried
that he might have lost his mind, he forced himself to stop laughing. "I'm
all right. I was just considering how lucky I was."

Melli gave him a
withering look. "Next time you're considering yourself lucky, I'd appreciate
it if you didn't do it so loudly. You made me spill the water." She peered
into the flask, and smiling sweetly at him, she said, "At least it was
only your portion that was lost."

Brushing the snow
from a fallen log, Melli sat down. "How far before we're in Halcus
territory?" she asked, munching on a wedge of cheese.

"The River
Nestor is still about two days' walk, I think." Jack had little idea
himself, but he was determined not to let Melli know that. "Once we cross
that we'll have to watch out."

"We're
southeast of Harvell, aren't we?" Jack nodded. "Well, last I heard
most of the fighting was in the northeast."

"Your father
has lands around here?" Everybody at court knew of Maybor's extensive land
holdings.

"It wouldn't
surprise me, Jack, if we're walking through his lands as we speak. Most people
only think my father owns the land next to the river, and he did at one time,
but he's been secretly buying up land in the east for years now. Not just apple
orchards, either-forest, meadow, fields." Melli waved her arms
expansively. Jack noted a touch of pride in her voice.

"Your
father's a very rich man."

"The
richest," she stated simply.

"Do you
regret leaving Harvell behind? You've lost so much. It's different for me-I
never had anything to start with."

Melli sighed
deeply. "I don't know, Jack. I had much, if you mean fine gowns and fancy
food; I had little, if you mean freedom. I couldn't even walk in the garden
unchaperoned." She gave him a bittersweet smile. He decided it was time to
ask her a question that had been on his mind for some time. "Who were you
to be wed to?" He watched as Melli considered whether or not to answer the
question.