The Dragon of Despair (71 page)

“Oh?” Toriovico tried to sound affronted, but not too much so.

“Yes, darling,” Melina lifted his foot and kissed it. “You are wonderful and all my new friends are marvelous, but there are times I long to hear my own tongue, to trade gossip with someone who knows the people of Hawk Haven as more than names.”

“We could buy you a slave or something,” he said with thoughtful seriousness. “One who speaks the tongue.”

Then he grinned at her with boyish playfulness.

“But that’s not what you want. Is it darling? You want your own little girl.”

“Torio,” she said passionately. “I do. No one else will do so well. You and she would get along so well.”

“Then you must have her,” Torio said firmly, thinking
And maybe Citrine’s presence will slow you down in whatever scheme you’re working.
“I admit that I have missed the sound of girlish laughter. You do remember that I have six sisters, don’t you? Since they’ve all grown old enough to take up positions as ritual directors in various parts of the country, I have felt quite bereft.”

Torio knew that the custom of splitting up the siblings of the Healed One was an old one, dating back to the First Healed One’s need to do something with his superfluous daughters. It had been one of his many ways of assuring that continuity of rule remained with his direct heirs. True, distance did make it easier for factions to form undetected, but the need to conduct incredibly complex rituals—rituals that were believed to help maintain the kingdom’s borders safe from invasion—kept the exiled siblings very busy.

He thought it a shame that his own very intelligent and creative sisters should be wasted this way, but it was the law.

Melina hugged his feet to her breast with what seemed genuine joy.

“Then you don’t mind?”

“Mind?” Torio repeated. “I want whatever will make my darling wife happy. Citrine cannot be my heir—she is not male, nor is she of our blood. Therefore, no one should be threatened by her living with us as your companion.”

“Thank you, Torio,” Melina said. “I am very glad that you accept her.”

Torio fought back an urge to say something flippant. He had a feeling that he had just succeeded in some rather difficult test. Maybe Melina had believed that his charm would break under the strain of accepting this invader to their cozy intimacy. He had a vague sense that she had drawn him in by lavishing affection on him—and making him feel that their bond was exclusive. Certainly even the strongest charm might weaken under the strain of admitting her need for another.

I must be very careful,
he thought.
She will be watching me, checking for any sign that my resentment is weakening her control.

Swinging his feet from Melina’s lap, Torio sprang up.

“You said you had written for me to come to you,” he said jovially. “Now that I have your news, where’s the little girl? Isn’t it time I met her?”

Melina beamed up at him and for a moment he once again had to struggle not to lose himself in the warm embrace of her gaze.

“Yes, darling,” she said. “I will have Tipi bring Citrine to us. The two of you mean so much to me. I can’t wait for you to meet.”

For a moment, Torio caught something cool and calculating in the blue pools of her eyes, something so cold that it thrust him out and into himself again. Then Melina smiled and were it not for memory, he could believe her a happy mother, about to introduce her new husband to her youngest child.

ELISE INSISTED
Derian ride with her when she returned to the Hawk Haven embassy, for she no longer felt confident about her safety out on the streets.

On her previous return from the embassy, sitting at ease in the litter, reviewing what she had discussed with Ambassador Redbriar, Elise hadn’t immediately noticed anything out of the ordinary. Then one of the litter bearers had stumbled.

“Someone tried to trip me!” the man had called back in response to Elise’s startled cry.

Thinking this a weak excuse, Elise had begun to watch the crowds, remembering Edlin’s concern when they made their first call on the ambassador—had that only been two days before?—and seeing now that the situation had grown far worse.

She might not have Peace’s gift for seeing deeply into other’s actions, but even so she became aware of the angry glares that were turned on her, the clenched fists, mouths pursed as if to spit. Yet few acted as aggressively as had the unknown who had sought to overturn her litter. Most turned away, and Elise thought she saw fear mingled with the anger.

Attending more closely now, more than once Elise heard “Consolor” muttered, with the suffix that meant “kin” or “family” attached to it. So the anger was not directed toward Elise personally, but to her as one of Melina’s people.

By the time Elise reached the door of Hasamemorri’s house, she had realized that all the sullen and hate-filled faces seemed to belong to people of the lower, serving classes. The sodality members who passed, often carried in litters of their own, looked upon her with either curiosity or indifference, as did the obviously prosperous.

What was it the servants feared? What was it that made them so angry? How was it their masters seemed comparatively ignorant? Elise might dread Melina’s strange powers, but she did not believe the woman could have worked her trance induction on all of the upper classes. Something more—maybe simple ignorance—must explain it.

Ambassador Redbriar’s informants, the majority of whom were disaffected politicians from within the Dragon Speaker’s court, had reported nothing that might account for this surge of almost uncontrollable anger, nor was Ambassador Redbriar particularly helpful regarding what might be done for Edlin.

“He is a lord,” Violet Redbriar said, “and that is good, except that his title and position—and his father’s well-known ambitious nature—will make it seem more likely, rather than less, that Lord Kestrel was spying.

“And to make matters worse,” Violet continued, draining her goblet of white wine, “from what you say, Edlin Norwood
was
spying. This deeply restricts what we can do. However, I shall put some feelers out, and send you word when I know something. Don’t come to call too often. Feeling against us has become very strong. We had a window broken by a well-thrown rock and one of our footmen was assaulted when he went to the market.”

Indeed, Elise’s hired litter bearers—who had been promised a substantial payment if they remained to take her home—were waiting very nervously when Elise came to take her leave. Ambassador Redbriar had offered guards, but Elise had not thought there would be any trouble—and had nearly been very wrong.

Yet this late afternoon, despite the ambassador’s warning, Elise and Derian were returning. Citrine’s disappearance and her probable destination were matters too sensitive to trust to a note that might be read by any number of people before—or after—it reached the ambassador.

Elise had insisted on waiting a full day’s span before going to the embassy. Citrine might not have gone into Thendulla Lypella, no matter what Firekeeper reported. Or she might not have found the welcome she desired. It hardly made sense to raise a fuss if the girl was soon to reappear on their doorstep.

And it would be dreadfully embarrassing.

However, by the next morning, Elise was as eager as any of them to seek what assistance Ambassador Redbriar might offer. Bee Biter had reported that Citrine had been seen walking in one of the sheltered gardens that were lavishly spread between the Earth Spires. Her companions had been her mother and the Healed One and she had strolled hand in hand between them.

That the girl looked well and content was no comfort to Elise—or to any of Citrine’s friends. Many of Melina’s victims looked quite happy and placid—Ruby and Opal were fine examples of this—but this was the stillness of a frozen will, not true tranquility of spirit.

Ambassador Redbriar received them in her study, but it was clear that she was not pleased to see Elise again so soon. Had Derian not worn his counselor’s ring rather prominently, he might have found himself relegated to the kitchens.

Violet was too much a diplomat to turn away people who might rise to positions of influence. She offered them refreshments, filled her own glass with white wine from a carafe set in a bed of crushed ice, and listened to Elise’s account.

She frowned when Elise completed her tale.

“And what is it you want me to do? You seem to know where the girl is, and that she is happy and safe.”

Violet’s mouth drew into a little wrinkle of disapproval. It was quite clear that she did not precisely believe what she had been told about how Blind Seer and Firekeeper had tracked Citrine to the gates of Thendulla Lypella, nor about Bee Biter’s report.

Or maybe,
Elise thought with sudden insight,
she fears this as any sane person would—as hints of magic beyond the honest talents. It is good that she isn’t intended to learn what Melina can do.

Elise had been prepared for the ambassador’s protest, though not for the rather breezy way in which it was presented. She wondered if Violet was frightened. Certainly the attacks on her residence and her servants gave reason, and it might explain her sudden fondness for quantities of wine.

“It is not a matter of Citrine’s happiness,” Elise said rather haughtily. “It is a matter of right. Consolor Melina was exiled from Hawk Haven, declared a traitor, and had all her property stripped from her. That includes her right to her children. Citrine does not belong to her. Citrine belongs to the family that is now headed by her older brother, Jet Shield.

“Moreover,” Elise went on, continuing through the ambassador’s attempted interruption, “Citrine was given into my custody, and, should something happen to me, to the custody of my companions in order of precedence. Therefore, my rights have been violated. The girl may have foolishly run away, but if she is kept after I request her return then it is no longer a case of a runaway child. It is kidnapping.”

Elise finished with a flat finality that jolted Violet Redbriar out of whatever comfortable haze the wine had cast over her. She looked quite grim, reached for her glass, reconsidered, and poured herself some of the chilled tea that had been brought for Elise.

“The matter is quite serious,” Violet admitted, “when presented in that fashion. What do you wish me to do?”

“I have drafted a letter requesting my charge’s return to me,” Elise replied promptly.

She put out a hand and Derian placed in it the final draft of the missive that they had labored over for several hours the night before. It had been essential that the request be firm, but not so firm that making Citrine disappear permanently would be the easiest way to eliminate any uncomfortable situation between the two kingdoms.

“I would like you to review this,” Elise said. “Offer suggestions as to how it could be rephrased, have it recopied onto better paper, and then arrange for the signed document to be delivered to the appropriate person in Thendulla Lypella.”

Violet fumbled in a side pocket of her chair, removed a spectacle case, and perched a round-lensed pair of glasses on her nose.

“The letter is admirable,” she said when she had concluded her perusal. “I suggest a few minor changes to make certain that there is no room for misinterpretation—a matter of schematics, nothing more. I would also like your permission to include a copy in New Kelvinese. I can do the translation myself—I would insist on doing so, given the sensitivity of the matter. I simply do not wish to leave the choice of which word to use for certain technical terms to some clerk in Thendulla Lypella, especially one who might be prompted to shift the tone to make us seem more aggressive than we are—or less.”

“That sounds wise,” Elise agreed with a crisp nod. “Derian and I will wait so that I can sign both copies.”

And in that way I can assure myself that you’re not slipping anything into the text. I hate not being able to trust even one of my own king’s sworn representatives!

Violet Redbriar gave a slight smile that hinted she knew precisely the drift of Elise’s thoughts—and approved of them.

“Since security is to our interest,” she said, “and I hate to think what might happen if the word that Consolor Melina’s birth daughter has joined her reached the street, I will also do the scribe’s copy myself. I write a good hand.”

Elise nodded her acceptance, and was surprised when Derian spoke up. He’d kept his silence to this point, serving as witness now that the need to bodyguard her through the streets was—until they headed back to Hasamemorri’s—ended.

“I wonder if that very information is what has stirred up the people,” he said thoughtfully. “It would match. Firekeeper did not meet any but the usual hostility…”

“Not uncommon for someone who travels about with a huge wolf, I suspect,” Violet said, rising from her chair.

“Not,” Derian agreed, “though less here than in Hawk Haven. The New Kelvinese seem to take the peculiar in stride. However, what I was thinking is that Firekeeper and Wendee both searched for Citrine and didn’t have any difficulties. Elise, coming home a few hours later, met some. That would be enough time for some loose-tongued clerk—say the one at the Petitioner’s Gate Firekeeper mentioned—to spread a few delicious stories.”