The Still (13 page)

“Ah, there you are!” Stire, the Duke’s man. “Where go you?”

My shirt hung damp, my lip had begun to swell; I’d narrowly avoided a mouthful of grass from my lunatic vassal, and I’d had altogether enough. “I don’t answer to you!”

An elaborate bow, suffused with sarcasm. “Perhaps not, my prince. But Margenthar of Stryx, Duke and Regent, my master, asks you to remain in your chambers until he speaks with you.”

“I’ll consider it.” I started up the stairs, Rustin in tow.

“Consider it well. I’ll post guards if you don’t cooperate.”

I stopped short. “You’d make me prisoner, Stire?”

“I’d do worse were it up to me.” His face made clear his inclination. “Be in your rooms, youngsire, when your uncle comes to visit. Your playmate”—a contemptuous gesture at Rustin—“may keep you company.”

I nodded, too enraged to speak. We disappeared from his sight; I stalked past the entry to my chambers, galloped up to the third-floor nursery.

I knocked. “Hester?” Last time I’d visited, she’d sat despondent at her table. “Are you in?” No answer; I opened the unlocked door and went in. “Rust, if she’s out, go—
Lord of Nature!”
An apparition lunged across the chamber, jagged blade clenched tight in hand.

“Come you again, demons of the lake?”

I cowered against the wall opposite. Her eyes half-mad, Hester bore an ancient notch-edged knife she used to slice our bread and cheese. A whirl sent Rustin dancing to safety. A jab in my direction; I sucked in my stomach, avoided by a whisker the spill of my guts. “Lord’s love, Hester! It’s me, Roddy!”

A snarl, to Rustin. “Get away, you!” Her lip curled. “Where’s my boy?”

I tensed at each flick of her blade. “Hester, don’t you know me?”

“Think ye I’m daft, arrogant Princeling? You were to inform me day by day: I had your word! Where’s my Elryc?”

“That’s what we—”

“Tell me this moment, or I’ll gut you like a trout!” The point of her blade pressed at my navel. Rustin, dagger drawn, circled behind. “This instant!”

A pinprick, on my tensed belly. I yelped. “In the stables!”

She swung to Rustin. “Is it true, whelp?”

“Put down the knife, grandmother. If you harm my prince—”

“Faugh. Call off your watchpuppy, Roddy.” Blade still in hand, she brushed past Rustin as if he didn’t exist. Rust’s jaw dropped.

“Sit, both of you. I’ll bar the door.”

I rolled up my shirt, peered, wiped a droplet of blood from my navel. I took a long, slow breath to slow my heart’s pounding. “See what I’ve put up with?” I shoved Rustin to a bench.

“She tried to kill us!”

“No, I’d be gawping my life out, if she so intended. Think ye Mother trusted just anyone, with her cubs?”

“But she’s so old, so bent. How can she ...”

“Sit.” I pushed him down. “She’s a tad irate.” Not to say deranged. On the other hand, she was firmly on our side.

“Why the stables?” With a sigh, Hester lowered herself to the bench opposite, absently fingering the point of her blade.

“He’s made friends with the stableboy. The boy brings him food and drink.”

“Elryc’s had nothing but that slop? Arr.” She lay aside the blade, flexed her withered fingers. “You, Llewelyn’s boy, see if the tea on the hearth is warm.” A moment’s reflection. “Griswold’s a good man, I judge. The reward won’t bend him.” Her eyes shot up. “Your precious uncle put a bounty on Elryc’s head. Called him a traitor.”

“I heard, Nurse.” My tone was meek.

“That shrew Rowena came running, delighted with the news. A goodly while you took, before you came to me.” She brooded while Rustin poured steaming tea into her well-used cup. I wondered how she could stand the heat of it. She sighed. “Where shall we take him?”

“We?”

“I might need your help, to fetch and carry. My bones are old. Lord of Nature knows you can’t be trusted alone to watch a foal in a stall, lest some butterfly float past and you—”

“Please!” Perhaps some hint of my anguish reached her, for she fell silent.

I swallowed a lump in my throat. Mother had kept me at heel in matters that concerned her, but otherwise I’d done as I pleased. I thought nothing of roaming off to see Rustin, or galloping through the fields with Griswold. As long as I appeared at my lessons, and promptly answered Mother’s summons, my days had been my own. Now I was fenced on all sides, by Mar’s scheming, the Chamberlain’s uncertainty, Stire’s contempt.

“Faugh.” Hester sipped at her tea. “Feeling sorry for yourself? A habit you’d best outgrow if you’d be King. Think instead of poor Elryc, alone and terrified.” Another sip. “I have a sister, Tarana. Had. Three years now she’s gone. But her cottage remains, and it’s mine. The millkeeper tends it for me.”

“Where?”

“In the hills south of Cumber.”

Almost two days hard ride. For us younger ones, that was. Even if Hester could still sit a horse, she couldn’t possibly ride at such a pace. She’d either dash her bones to splinters at her mount’s first shy, or drop from exhaustion before the day was out.

“Rust and I will take him. Just tell us the way.”

“Goatbabble. Think you I’d leave a helpless child to your notion of—”

“Nurse, would you risk his life by slowing us?”

“Bah.” She eyed her tea with distaste. “Time was when you and that brute stallion of yours couldn’t catch me on my mare, if your life itself lay in balance.” A sigh. “I’ll ride, if I must, though my saddlebags will be packed with liniment.” She gestured to the pot. “Heat it well, this time.”

Obediently, Rustin tossed the dregs of her cup in the slop bucket, put the kettle back on the embers.

“Besides, lad, there’s not such haste. Margenthar has no need of a nurse; I’ll tell him I’ve retired to my demesne. My gear will fill a wagon, and its pace will befit an old lady.”

“That’s ridiculous. Once they know you’ve sneaked Elryc away, mounted soldiers could ride in an hour what you’d manage in a day.”

“Why would they?”

“And you can’t drive out the gate with my brother sitting at your side. No matter where you hide him, knowing your feelings they’ll search every inch—”

Her hand cracked down on the table, and made me jump. “He’ll leave Stryx unharmed, if I have to turn him into a sparrow and fly him over the wall. Leave you that to me.”

Rustin coughed. “Think, Roddy. Nurse can get a day’s start; we can ride after, to meet her. Else we’d all troop through the gate like—”

“Oh!” I’d forgotten. I couldn’t troop through the gate, with Elryc or alone. Uncle Mar had restricted my movement. Somehow, I’d have to break my chains. “We can’t separate; what if out paths fail to cross? I won’t leave Elryc.”

Hester’s fingers made a mysterious sign at my eyes. I snapped shut my mouth, ice chilling my spine. When I’d been small she’d shushed me so, warning me she had the Black Way. I’d never dared test her of it. “Elryc and I leave together, my young Prince Roddy. We’ll wait for you outside the town. If you break free, you may ride with us.”

“How kind of you.” But my sarcasm seemed lost on her.

“And one other matter. Pytor.”

I swallowed. In our concern for Elryc, I’d almost forgotten.

“When you pry him from Margenthar’s grip, I will raise him, to finish the work your mother set me. If you are King, then here at the castle. Else, in my cottage.”

“Hester, you’re getting on in years ...”

“Your word, prince. Or I’ll stay to find Pytor, and let Elryc look after himself.”

Protecting Elryc was my immediate task; I’d deal later with the complication of Pytor. I nodded. “My word.”

“Then go about your business, you two. I’ll demand my wages, tell the Duke I’m done with the House of Caledon. We’ll leave on the morrow.”

My lips were dry. “What of Elryc, tonight?”

“I’ll see to him.”

I protested, but she gave no ground. Eventually, tiring of my urging, she shooed us from the room, slammed the door in our faces.

We walked slowly down the stairs. I asked, “Can she—”

“Not another word about your imp-ridden housegirl!”

I gaped, but, finally understanding, kept shut until we’d reached my chamber. No guards were posted; at least I’d been spared that humiliation. Inside, I barred the door. I led him to my oaken wardrobe, stepped inside, slid shut the curtain. We’d be hot, but if we whispered, safe.

He asked, “Can Hester accomplish all that? Is her mind well?”

I shrugged; realized he couldn’t see me in the dark. “I’m not sure. What choice have we?”

“How will we get you out of Stryx?”

I wiped my damp forehead. “I’m not sure. We’ll figure a way.”

“And what when you return?”

Abruptly my voice was unsteady. “I face Uncle Mar.” He asked all the wrong questions.

Fingers felt for my shoulder, squeezed. “Have courage, my liege.”

I knocked away his hand. “I’ll be all right.” From somewhere, a scent of cinnamon mixed with the acrid aroma of my fear. “It’s an oven in here.” I threw open the curtain, climbed out into the welcome air. Curiously, I flicked a row of cloaks. “What was that spice? Did someone put a sachet in my clothes?”

Rustin blushed. “Chela gave me scented soap from the market. Is it too strong?”

“No.” Just unmanly. I took some comfort in that. Rustin was older, bigger, stronger; if it weren’t for his flaws I’d loathe him.

After the wardrobe, even my room had seemed cool, but the heat of the day rapidly asserted itself. Eventually we settled on the floor, cross-legged, and played listlessly at dice.

It was two hours before a knock came, during which I’d managed to lose three silver pence to my supposed friend.

Uncle Mar, with an armed henchman. “Fostrow, retire to the bench by the stairs; I’ll speak with my nephew alone.”

“Aye, sire.” The guard gave Rustin a dubious eye, departed.

Rust came to his feet, with courtesy. “Shall I leave you, my lord?”

“No need.” Mar sauntered into my room, glanced about, wrinkled his nose, but said nothing. He toyed with my slate, plucked it from its hook near the window.

I composed myself, waited.

“This matter of Elryc.” His glance flickered to mine, back to the slate. “If he’s been taken by some foe, my proclamation will neutralize his value to them. If he’s hiding for some boyish motive beyond our ken, this will flush him out.”

“By branding him traitor, you risk his life.”

“My prince, consider whether in fact he is not precisely such.” He set down the slate. “You are firstborn, therefore heir. Think how that makes him feel. But for the fluke of birth, he would enjoy the fruits of office, the riches, the honors, the majesty that will be yours.”

I shivered. Of whom was he speaking? Elryc ... or himself?

“Remember what you said yourself. Elryc’s a calculating little soul, isn’t he? He may have left the castle entirely, to make union with an enemy, that they might secure your throne.”

“Uncle, you could put a stop to that, by having me crowned.”

“Which will be done. Didn’t I give you my word?” No, he had not, but he left me no time to answer. “Think you that a coronation guarantees a kingdom? The crown is more than that bauble that sits in the vault. A diadem won’t maintain a state.”

“If it’s so worthless, then give it—”

“Your crowning must be an affair of splendor, held when Caledon stands secure. Else it will seem—and be—a sham.” He took up the slate, licked his fingers, drew idly in the dust. “Tantroth comes.”

“What?” My voice came hoarse.

“Uncle Cumber sent scouts to probe the high passes. Tantroth of Eiber gathers his troops, and they take boats toward the bay.”

“He’s always holding maneuvers, of one sort or another.” I swallowed, nonetheless. The castle of Eiber stood secure in the Hadriad Mountains, but from the foothills, streams poured into the River Eibe, a wide road that chuckled its way to the sea. In a following wind, tall ships from Tantroth’s port could dash from Inlet Eibe down to Stryx in little more than a day.

“Tantroth’s always wanted our lands, Roddy. Now, it’s pressing that we know Elryc’s whereabouts. For the sake of Caledon, will you help?”

I shook my head. “I wish I could.”

Rustin stirred. “You have my oath, my lord, that Roddy has no idea where Elryc is headed. We spent the morning worrying over him, and gave it up.”

“So I see.” The Duke eyed our dice, smiled, again turned serious. “Roddy, I must ask you to stay close, until Tantroth’s intentions are known. You’re too valuable to risk, running about.”

“Even down the hill? There’s no danger in the market, or the inn, if—”

“Even so. Remain in the castle, where we can guard you. This must be.” To Rustin, “Help him pass the time. You’re welcome in Stryx Castle, son of Llewelyn.”

“Why, thank you, sire.” Rustin’s courtesy was such that even I couldn’t detect a hint of irony. “If my father permits, I’ll be happy to come. Perhaps I can shop at the docks for Roddy, bring him what trifles he would buy.”

“You see?” said Uncle Mar. “It all works out.” He crossed to the door. “You’ll know, the moment we find Elryc. In the meantime, be at ease.” A friendly nod, and he was gone.

I paced the room, while Rustin tossed dice to no purpose. “I shouldn’t have let that old witch take care of, um, the bundle for the night. If she fails, Uncle will have an unexpected gift.”

“The same as if you failed.”

“At least I can trust my judgment.” He snorted; I flicked him an annoyed glance. “Besides, it’s
my
promise.”

“Calm yourself.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” I paced anew.

“Try a bath. I’m serious; it will do you good in other respects.” Languidly, he got to his feet. “Who draws your water?”

“A footman, but I don’t have time. We have to plan.”

“Is there a bellpull?”

“Rustin, leave it be!” My face was hot with embarrassment. “I’m not a baby, to—”

“But you’ve had a lot of worry, you’ve been running about under that blazing sun, and I had to climb in the closet with you.”

To end the mortification, I let him persuade me. The water, I had to admit, was pleasantly cool. I began slowly to relax.

“What will happen to us, Rust?”

“We’ll settle Elr—the bundle with its, uh, keeper, and come back to Stryx.”