“You know I couldn’t do that.”
“Oh come on. You could have sneaked away for a few hours together. The gods know you could have done with the distraction today.”
“Faith, I’m trying to write.”
Faith glanced back at her and hooked a tress of black hair behind her ear, saying, “Why does he insist you mustn’t be seen together?”
“He worries about my reputation,” Danielle said absently as she dipped her quill.
“Yet he happily beds you?”
“Can we not do this please?”
“I want to meet him,” Faith said.
Danielle stopped and arched her eyebrows impatiently. She knew her friends were more than a little curious to know what sort of man had finally gotten under her skin after all the suitors and offers of marriage she had turned down across the years. But this wasn’t the time.
Faith threw up her hands in defeat. “All right. I’ll hold my tongue. But you’re going to have to tell me about him sooner or later. And hurry up, I want you to go to bed.”
For a while, neither of them spoke. Then Faith glanced back at her and asked, “What are you writing? And what’s this other business you’re worried about, if not Kane or James?”
“This nightmare I just had. I want to share it with Joseph in the morning, so I thought I’d best write it down while it is still fresh.”
Having restored the fire, Faith got up and came back to the chair in front of the desk. “You should be in bed. However, I’m willing to listen if you want to share it. It might help?”
Danielle finished the last sentence and put her quill aside. She had been feeling increasingly silly about the dream and its effect on her, and she was almost convinced now that she was trying to find a deeper meaning where there simply was none. Or more to the point, where there was a far more obvious one. She considered her friend for a moment and then said, “I think I’m more afraid of Kane than I’m willing to admit.”
Faith leaned forward and took her hands. “Why do you say that? You have performed brilliantly this week. He’s the one who should be afraid and is afraid if the citizenry is to be believed.”
Danielle took the sheets of parchment, turned them around, and pushed them across the desk. Faith leaned forward, clearly curious, and began to peruse the writing. As her eyes moved down the page, Danielle watched the puzzlement grow on her friend’s face.
“The strange thing is that it felt more like a premonition than merely a manifestation of fear. Yet the dream is clearly madness. I mean, Druids and Kane and this prophecy… but it is … was so vivid.”
Faith said nothing until she had read the last page. Then she shuffled the parchments together and handed them back. She was clearly trying not to smile.
“It’s not funny,” Danielle remonstrated.
“I know. I’m sorry, but a premonition? Dee, come on. You are allowed to be scared. This is fear, considerable fear, finding a way of expressing itself. Which is entirely understandable even if the dream is not. You’ll put an end to this in the tourney ring today. Now, come on, you do need to get some sleep.” She eased back, adding, “Unless, of course, you’d rather all your training went to waste and we let Kane win by default?”
Danielle let herself smile, too. Faith was right—this was ridiculous. And if she was to beat Kane tomorrow, she really did need to get some rest.
CHAPTER NINE
As was her habit, Danielle woke in the grey light of dawn to the sound of birdsong from the garden outside her window. Not one to linger in bed, and certainly not on a day as important as this, she got up, washed, dressed, and left her chambers for Joseph’s private quarters in the south-western tower. They always met at this hour, and it was one of her normal routines that she’d refused to give up during the week of the tournament. She had always loved this time of the morning, and to miss it often dulled her mood as well as her wits—or at least she thought so. And despite the events of the evening before, her general lack of sleep, and the growing anxiety over her pending match with Kane in six hours, she felt remarkably fresh and bright. It helped, too, that she had made a decision about her nightmare. Faith was probably right: the whole affair was just a result of accumulated fear and expectation coupled with physical exhaustion. To that end, she had burned her notes in the hearth before leaving her chambers, thinking it unfair to bring the matter up with Joseph, who was already overburdened with the affairs of the realm, and more so than ever with her temporary absence.
As always she swung past the palace kitchen and collected a breakfast tray containing a jug of fresh milk, a selection of preserves and a batch of Mr Claver’s freshly baked scones to hold Joseph, father and her over before formal breakfast in the winter hall at eight o’clock. She was showered with best tidings for the tournament final, and had to whether Mr Flapton’s detailed run-down on the menu for her celebration banquet before escaping on her way again. At the steps that led up to Joseph’s private quarters, she instructed her guards to wait and began the short climb alone. Reaching the top of the tower stairs, she found Joseph’s door ajar in expectation of her arrival. She put her back to it, giving a hello as she entered. Joseph, also an early riser, was already at his desk, reading what correspondence had reached the palace during the night. He looked up over the rims of his spectacles as she came in, his bushy white brows arching above humorous blue eyes, and with a grin he gestured towards the jug on the tray.
“I hope that’s not intended for my head.”
“Oh, very droll,” she said with a smile. “I see last night’s events have preceded me. Eden telling tales, no doubt.” Danielle went over to the hearth and knelt down.
“Preceded you and then some, I’m afraid. It’s the main topic of gossip this morning, even overshadowing speculation about the final of the tourney this afternoon. At least for now. More importantly, I’ve just come from a brief meeting with your father. A rather heated one, I may add.”
“Well, frankly, I don’t want to hear about it. I’m sure father will soundly rebuke me when he arrives.” Danielle was pouring a jug of goat’s milk into a blackened pot so she could warm it over the fire and mix in Joseph’s special tea.
“Actually, he has other business to take care of this morning, he’ll send for you when he’s ready,” Joseph said as, using his cane, he struggled to his feet and went over and closed the door. “It’ll be before breakfast though. Doesn’t want to make a scene with all the palace guests in company. I tried to convince him to leave it until after the contest today, but he insisted. He’s very annoyed, lass. And I warn you now, you really are going to have to rein yourself in, or your father is going to do it for you.”
Danielle put the jug aside and hooked the pot over the fire. “So you agree with him, then?”
She glanced up as Joseph sank into a comfortable chair by the hearth and reached over and took a scone off the tray. “To be honest, you and your father are each as stubborn and pigheaded as the other on the matter of your safety and conduct, and I’m tired of mediating between you, particularly when we should have our attention on more important matters.”
Joseph’s gruff tone usually meant he had some troubling business on his mind, and from his exhausted appearance and the fact that his white hair was standing more on end than usual, she guessed it had kept him awake much of the night.
“I am sorry for it, Joseph, and I’ll make amends with father, I promise,” she said as she slowly stirred the milk and sprinkled in a couple of spoonfuls of Joseph’s tea. “Now, is the news this morning all that bad?”
“Most of it, yes,” Joseph replied, enjoying his scone.
“Most, not all?”
“Well, there is some good news. Lord Madison has invited you to be the guest of honour in Lunwraith’s hundred-eighty-seventh anniversary. I said his chancellery would nominate you, and clearly I was right.”
“Then I’m greatly honoured to be thought of so highly by a reformist realm. I’ll send word of my acceptance tod
ay.”
“No need for that; I’ll see to it. It should be an enjoyable break, particularly after this blasted tourney. You’ll be able to see young James Cornwell I suspect?” Joseph was studying her over the top of his glasses as he reached for another scone.
Danielle flushed and turned back to her chores. “He’s very busy. He may not even be in Lunwraith during the celebrations.”
“Busy?” Joseph scoffed. “Yes, he must look busy indeed, when you two wander round the chancellery garden talking half the night. And do you actually dance with anyone else at the banquets when you’re in Lunwraith? Then there’s the mad pace of his world that affords him the time to write to you no more than once a week.” Joseph drew a letter out of his robes and offered it to her. “Is there something you need to tell your father and I?”
“No.” Danielle felt her heart race, and she almost snatched the letter from his hands. “How did you come by this?” Her letters from James usually arrived via Bastion Fairfax, her undersecretary as Arkaelyon’s Ambassador to the Amthenium Grand Assembly.
Joseph grinned as he leaned back in his chair. “It was in my special mail this morning.”
‘Special mail’ meant it had arrived via the brotherhood of Aquarius or his network of spies.
“So, are you still just friends then?”
Danielle slipped the letter into her pocket to read later. “He saved my life, I can hardly reject his kind communications, and yes, we are friends.”
Joseph was fair beaming. “Well I’m pleased to hear it. He’s a good man. So no plans to wed?”
“Joseph, I’m not discussing that with you.” He was always teasing her about this, and Danielle suspected he knew more about what James and she had been up to than she was comfortable with. “Enough about James and me, I want to know what’s kept you up much of the night.”
Seeing her embarrassment Joseph nodded and said, “Then I’ll finish with the good news first. Lord Madison expects a speech, of course, and sends word that it may be as long as you like. Though I do venture to add that I want to look it over first, just to make sure you don’t mention republicanism anywhere.”
Danielle laughed. “I wouldn’t be so bold, Joseph, though I do hold that it is the natural progression of any true reformist,” she said with a teasing grin.
“I’m aware of that.”
“Father and you are going to be there of course?”
“Yes, all the members of the inner council will be going. And given the importance of the occasion, we’re thinking that we will go aboard the royal barge and in the company of four of Admiral Rantius’ war galleys. It’ll raise eyebrows among our nobles, given their general dislike for the Lunwraith court, and give Rantius something new to complain about,” Joseph added, humour in his kind blue eyes.
“Fine by me. Though I say let’s take the entire fleet and have the good admiral follow at the rear. It might teach the old warmonger to watch his tongue and remind him to whom he owes his duty. Or better still; let’s replace him with Captain Wilcinson or Captain Vasytor. If truth were told Swordfish and Storm are about the only galleys that are truly loyal to us in a fleet of twenty-three ships.” This was one of her pet subjects. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; Rantius is a bad apple, and his contempt for my father is becoming a little too obvious, and it has clearly infected much of our fleet.”
“Yes, well, old soldiers are not much given to peace, or to kings that forge it. However, we’re not discussing this now. Rantius might be a grump and a warmonger, and far too quick to speak his mind, but he is a good commander. Besides, Hendrix commands his loyalty and respect, as does Eden, even if it is often begrudgingly.”
“I still don’t know why you and father insist on defending him,” Danielle objected. They were silent for a moment then she said, “So what other favourable news do you have?”
“Well, you’ll be pleased to know that your impassioned rejoinder to Lord Calverton’s bill to repeal the Common’s Act at the council meeting last week seems to have worked its magic. Lord Worthford has been following the nobility’s response, as you know, and he sent word last night that Calverton is having trouble securing a majority in the house—a direct result of your speech, it seems.”
“That is a relief.”
Danielle handed Joseph a steaming mug of tea and sat down in the chair beside him, a mug in her own hands. She took a sip before saying, “So anything new about our pet subject?”
“Ah, Kane. Yes, as a matter of fact. Wondered when you’d bring it up. I received word from one of our spies in Renwick last evening. He says a sizable number of Lord Helidon’s ships that make the voyage back and forth from Zemithia are not making their usual landfall on their return to Arkaelyon. He has been monitoring the situation for the last two months and he estimates that as many as eight out of every ten ships of the Helidon fleet have changed their usual routes.”
“And what are we to make of that?”
“Well, the rumour is, Lord Heldion is shipping a rare breed of sheep from Zemithia directly to his estate. Trying his hand at commercial husbandry, apparently.”
“So you’re going to send someone in to have a look? I mean, this definitely adds credence to my belief that whatever they’re up to warrants investigation.”
“Already done, lass. I suspect we’ll hear something by the end of the week.”
“And still no word on where he is shipping from in the ex-colonies?”
“I’m afraid that’s the way of it. Though I did take your advice and have penned a letter to President Lent, telling him of our concerns and requesting that he pass on any information he might come across. Of course, we won’t hear anything for at least a couple of months.”
Danielle was staring at the fire, thinking. “Say this rumour is true, and Lord Helidon is shipping livestock directly to his estate. He would still have to declare his cargo, and there would be a record in the customs register in Hillsport, Cox Harbour, or Maples.”
“True. But I’m not sure such records would be helpful given Helidon’s history and his propensity for bribing officials.”
Danielle had to concede this was probably true. The customs stewards who serviced the Illandian wharves in her father’s name were known to be shady in their dealings. And that was a mere two miles from here. The irregularities at similar facilities in Renwick or Dunston, she could only guess at. She took a sip of her tea. “And nothing more on what Kane is up to with the nobility?”
“Not a peep, I’m afraid. They’re unusually tight-lipped on the subject. But whatever it is, it has them rather excited.”
“I still think it’s a bill of some sort, and the secrecy and this development with Helidon’s shipping suggest it’s almost certainly illegal, or at least something he knows we’ll oppose.”
“You know we all agree with you on that account. And we’re doing everything we can to get at the truth of it.”
“Well, it’s simply not enough,” she said with quiet firmness. “And as much as Father doesn’t want to hear it, I think we have to be a great deal more forceful in this matter. Kane is unscrupulous, to say nothing of heartless, and whatever he’s up to, we can be sure it will be to Arkaelyon’s long-term detriment.”
An impatient frown crept across Joseph’s face. “Probably, but forceful is not what we need to be. I think you’ve done quite enough harm already with those rumours you were circulating about your brother’s business—really, Danielle, I still can’t believe you would stoop to that. Why, that’s something Kane would do.”
“Sometimes it takes a fox to catch a fox.” Danielle put her cup aside. “Look, I know you have misgivings regarding my method, and I can’t say I’m exactly comfortable with it myself. But I really do need you to support me in this, Joseph. If we can convince Father that my idea has merit and that we should try it again, I think we can discover what Kane is up to and put a stop to it if necessary. All we’d have to do is re-circulate the rumour that I have come into possession of kno
wledge regarding Kane’s business, and that I’m moving to collect proof sufficient to ensure an arrest. You know how the nobles are. If this is illegal, I expect that many of those in league with Kane will scramble to clear their names even before any accusations are actually made. In fact, they’ll likely move so quickly to protect their own houses, there’ll be a veritable riot as they knock down your door to profess their innocence. And if that happens, I imagine many of them will be all too pleased to give up information on Kane. Please, I’ve got a terrible feeling about this.”
Joseph shook his head emphatically. “Absolutely not. As I have told you before, it’s far too dangerous, to say nothing of unethical. If this is as big as you think it is, and Kane were to get word that this rumour has surfaced again, I think it more likely he’d try and find a way to silence you before the nobility had a chance to panic.”
“I’d like to see him try,” Danielle retorted as she got up and went over to the window, “because I, for one, will not be cowered by him.”
She folded her arms across her chest and stood there staring out the window. The lack of headway in this matter never failed to frustrate and irritate her, particularly since it didn’t have to be that way. In her view her father and most of the other members of his Inner Council, including Joseph, were being far too cautious and lackadaisical in this matter. The only one who benefited from that was Kane.
Joseph’s chambers had a good view of the temporary pavilions and stands that had been constructed in the city square for the duration of the tournament. In the middle of the structures was the fencing ring bathed in early morning sunlight. Even from this distance the very sight of it made Danielle’s stomach knot with dread.
“He’s such a vicious beast, Joseph. I truly hate him,” she said, giving voice to her dark thoughts.
“I know, lass, I know.” Joseph stepped up beside her and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.
Danielle leaned her head against him. Most of what she knew of the world, she owed to Joseph’s patient tutoring and encyclopaedic knowledge, and she was sorely aware of how reliant she was on his friendship and support. “Will you not at least talk to father about it?”
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