The Thirteenth House (Twelve Houses) (57 page)

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Authors: Sharon Shinn

BOOK: The Thirteenth House (Twelve Houses)
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“Try not to look conspicuous,” she said. “We don’t want Halchon to wonder if something’s going on. But while Senneth is not standing there overseeing Amalie, I think the Riders had better be.”
 
“I’ll watch from the door,” he said. “And the others will stay out of sight. But I think you’re right.”
 
Next back to the ballroom to find Romar and tell
him
the tale. “While Senneth is gone, I think you should be dancing with your niece,” she said. “You should be able to defend her from any assault for as long as it takes the Riders to cross the dance floor.”
 
“You have a poor opinion of my fighting skills,” he commented. “I could defend her for longer than that.”
 
“It might not be necessary,” she said. “But—I can’t tell. I don’t want to take stupid risks.”
 
He arched his eyebrows, and she felt her whole face kindle in a blush. “Stupid risks with
Amalie’s
life,” she amended.
 
“Ah. As long as there isn’t a moratorium on risks in general.”
 
She shook her head. “You deserve to live and die alone.”
 
“Maybe,” he said. “But not tonight.”
 
Once everyone else was in place, she sidled through the crowd to Senneth’s side. Valri was actually sitting down, no doubt dizzied by her intake of alcohol, but her eyes were fixed unwaveringly on a spot on the dance floor. Kirra didn’t even have to look to know the queen was watching Amalie. Senneth, only slightly more relaxed, was spreading her attention more generally through the entire crowd.
 
“I’ve made an assignation for you,” Kirra told her in a teasing voice.
 
Senneth gave her an inquiring look. “Is he young, handsome, and noble? More suited to my station in life than a King’s Rider?”
 
“Yes, I was mortified to hear you gossiped about last night at the dinner table, so I have stepped in to matchmake for you,” Kirra replied. “I know your brothers will appreciate it.”
 
“Thus are the bonds between Brassenthwaite and Danalustrous strengthened even more.”
 
“Though I can’t imagine you’ll find yourself romantically drawn to this particular individual,” Kirra said.
 
“Do you suppose you might give me a name? Or shall I go to this meeting wholly unprepared? Where and when am I having this tryst, by the way?”
 
“Tonight. About half an hour from now. In the little storage pantry off the hall to the dining room.”
 
Senneth nodded. Like Kirra, she was inclined to familiarize herself with her surroundings and had obviously noticed this room already. “And the name?”
 
Kirra leaned so close she barely had to breathe the syllables. “Sabina Gisseltess.”
 
Senneth’s eyes widened, but she showed no other change of expression. Kirra almost thought she wasn’t surprised, which was highly irritating. “Ah,” was all she said.
 
“I’ve alerted Tayse and he’s assembling the Riders. I’ve told Romar to guard the princess while you’re gone. Even if it’s a trick, I think Amalie will be safe.”
 
“I don’t think it’s a trick,” Senneth said.
 
“What do you know?” Kirra demanded.
 
Senneth shook her head. “Nothing. I’d never met her till last night. But she just struck me as—” She shook her head again.
 
“Someone afraid for her life.”
 
Senneth nodded. “Yes. And wouldn’t you be if you were her?”
 
“Yes,” Kirra said. “But I don’t know that I’d run for help to the woman my husband would murder me to marry.”
 
Senneth gave her a wide, brilliant smile. “Who else could possibly help her?”
 
Kirra drifted away from Senneth, drifted through the ballroom, drifted out the door to the servants’ hall. As always in every great house, this hall was shadowy and cool, with faint sounds of laughter and bustling coming from the direction of the kitchen. It might not be safe to change here, so close to other people; at any point, a footman could round the corner and stumble across her. So Kirra did it in stages, first shortening her hair, then roughening her features, then turning her red ballgown into red breeches topped by a red waistcoat. Eventually she was a more soberly dressed man—keeping only the red waistcoat—with short dark curls and an earnest expression. The ruby on her hand as well as the color across her chest proclaimed her a man of Danalustrous.
 
Now she strode confidently into the ballroom and glanced around. Senneth was gone. Amalie was dancing with her uncle. Kirra could see Tayse’s dark shape hovering just outside the great doorway. Halchon Gisseltess was deep in conversation with Rafe Storian and Seth Stowfer. Sabina stood chatting with a few insipid-looking women in Nocklyn colors. No doubt wives and daughters of some of the more favored Nocklyn vassals.
 
Kirra crossed the dance floor, trying to look casual about her direction, pausing now and then to smile at a pretty girl or exchange greetings with a young man about her own age. Sabina seemed completely unaware of her approach and turned with a start when Kirra touched her on the arm.
 
“Marlady,” she said, bowing with all the flourish of a good-looking young lord. “I see you are not dancing.”
 
The vassals’ wives and daughters turned away, sighing with envy. The young Danalustrous lordling was very handsome indeed.
 
“No, I—but I would be happy to take a turn with you,” Sabina said rather breathlessly.
 
Kirra took the marlady’s hand and led her into a sedate quadrille. She would have to concentrate; it was easy to forget she was dancing the man’s part. Sabina showed no inclination to make conversation, so Kirra asked, “Have you been enjoying yourself?”
 
“Oh—yes—it’s been—yes, I have,” Sabina replied. At this rate, Kirra couldn’t imagine her conversation with Senneth was going to turn up any interesting news at all. “And you?”
 
Kirra could not help a wicked smile. “Very much so.”
 
“Are you from Danalustrous?” Sabina gathered her courage to ask.
 
Kirra nodded. “Serra Casserah told me I should come ask you to be my partner.”
 
Sabina grew calmer at that. So she had not been sure this young man was the promised courtier. “I have not noticed you before,” she remarked. “Have you been here this whole time?”
 
Impossible not to laugh when asked such questions! “Indeed, I have. But I have not mingled much till tonight.”
 
“Will you be going on to Rappengrass?” Sabina asked somewhat wistfully. “My husband and I will be returning home.”
 
“The serramarra is going on to Rappengrass, I suppose, and she will not travel without me,” Kirra said. “So, yes, I will be heading there next.”
 
They made similar halting conversation for the duration of the dance—and it seemed very long—while Kirra slowly edged them closer to the necessary doorway. She turned them so Sabina’s back was to the dance floor while Kirra could scan the room. Halchon was still engrossed in his conversation and no one else appeared to be paying them much attention. Kirra tightened her grip on Sabina’s hand and pulled her from the room.
 
Into the hallway, a few steps down, three knocks on the closed door. Senneth opened it instantly, gave Kirra one quick look of amusement, and nodded gravely to Sabina.
 
“My lady,” Senneth said. “I am eager to hear what you have to say. We must talk quickly, though, for I don’t know who might come to use this room.”
 
“I’ll guard the door and turn away curious servants,” Kirra said.
 
Sabina looked doubtful. Senneth said, “He can look quite ferocious. Come inside.”
 
The door closed between them, but this was one conversation Kirra was determined to overhear. Keeping a watchful gaze on the hallway, she pressed her ear to the wood and listened.
 
Sabina didn’t waste any time. “You know my husband is planning a war,” she said, sounding as if it was taking all her resolve to keep her voice from quavering.
 
“We all have had some suspicions of that,” Senneth replied. “Do you have proof?”
 
“I have names of lords who have agreed to band together with him in an uprising. And how much they have agreed to commit to the cause.”
 
Senneth sounded surprised. “Written down?”
 
“No. I have played hostess to a succession of visitors for the past year and a half. When I could, I listened to conversations. Now and then, my husband has let some information slip. And his mood was always easy to read. When someone agreed to join with him, he was remarkably pleasant. When they did not—” A small silence. “I am fairly certain of the list.”
 
“Can you tell me?”
 
“Rayson Fortunalt and Gregory Tilton. Rafe Storian is toying with the idea, but he has not yet committed.”
 
“What about Nocklyn? Siding with your husband, I am guessing.”
 
“No—that is, I am not certain. I think Lowell is afraid to do anything too drastic while Els is still alive. At any rate, I know Halchon is not sure of Nocklyn.”
 
“That’s interesting,” Senneth commented. “I would have put Nocklyn down as a traitor even before Rayson Fortunalt. Who else?”
 
“Heffel Coravann turned him down, but several of his vassals came by stealth to make deals of their own. The same is true of Eloise Kianlever and her lords—she said no, but some of her vassals said yes. There could be bloody uprisings within the Houses that would instantly alter where the king might look for allies. Baryn will not be able to quell those mutinies because he will be faced with an assault on his own territory.”
 
“Do you know when this is slated to occur?”
 
“No. I believe Rayson and some of the others are raising funds and do not want to move until they have enough money to pay troops. Rayson at least is engaged in some shipping venture and he absolutely refuses to join any rebellion until his cargo is safely home.”
 
“So we have some time. Weeks, maybe. Months?”
 
“Months, I would say. Not much longer.”
 
“Where do they plan to attack first?”
 
“I’m not sure. But my husband keeps talking about the day he is installed in Ghosenhall. He might envision one great battle in the royal city, with all the other Houses tamely throwing down their arms once he is on the throne.”
 
“I cannot see Merrenstow or Brassenthwaite reacting so mildly.”
 
“You must warn the king,” Sabina said.
 
“I will. He is aware that—but we have not had such specific information before. It is terrible news you bear, my lady, but I am glad you have brought it to me.”
 
“I’m so afraid,” Sabina whispered.
 
There was the sound of rustling cloth; Kirra imagined Senneth had put her arm around a weeping marlady. “If your husband suspects you have told me these things, I fear you will be in very grave danger,” Senneth said.
 
“I am in danger already. My husband wants me dead.”
 
That was true, and Kirra and Senneth both knew it, but it was even more shocking to realize that Sabina knew it as well. “Then leave him,” Senneth said.
 
“How can I? No matter where I might go, he would track me down. If I tried to leave him, he would kill me for certain.”
 
Kirra could only imagine the expression on Senneth’s face, the expression she wore whenever something helpless fell under her protection. “Come with me. My friends and I will keep you safe.”
 
That elicited a small, hopeless laugh from Sabina. “Oh, I don’t think even you would be able to protect me, serra. He is impervious to your fire, is he not? And he would be happy for an excuse to hurt you. I do not want to provide that excuse.”
 
“Then go somewhere else. To Rappengrass. Ride out with Darryn in the morning.”
 
“And bring my husband’s wrath to Ariane? I could not. I could not bring such destruction to the House of a friend.”
 
“I hate to think of you going back with him, frightened and wholly alone.”
 
“You have just described the entire sixteen years of my married existence.”
 
“Are you worried about your sons? I will undertake to bring them to safety as well.”

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