She crossed the Withdrawing Room, also barren now. If they could build boats, they ought to be able to make furniture that didn’t look as if it had been thrown away by trolls. Of course she could always slip down to Kinford through Rap’s magic portal, then order what she wanted shipped north in the spring.
She crossed the Dressing Room; slowly, puffing hard. She could steal timber from the goblins, but nails didn’t grow on trees. Rap could make nails, but she would rather not ask Rap for help, except when she had to. It felt like cheating. She wondered how many nails she could smuggle in through the magic portal before people became suspicious, and why that didn’t feel like cheating.
She dragged herself up the last stair and into her bedroom, and shot the bolt. Peace!
As the housekeeper had said, there was a cheerful fire glowing in the grate. The temperature was almost comfortable close to the fireplace. The only furnishings were a faded old rug and a small bed that Inos had not seen before. It was piled high with furs and quilts and Rap.
He was lying on top with his hands behind his head, watching her without expression. He was still wearing the same garments as before, but he was clean and fresh shaven and his goblin tattoos had disappeared. She wondered when that had happened.
She went over to him, and he raised eyebrows in welcome.
“Not tonight, I’m too tired,” she said.
He pulled a face at such off-color humor.
“Of course you could fix that,” she added hopefully.
“I want to show you something — upstairs.”
Inos shook her head quickly. “No! Not now!” She was so tired that even the thought of …
Rap nodded. “Good, it works!”
“What does?”
“The aversion spell. I restored it.”
Inos looked at the sinister, forbidding door. “I don’t care. I’m not going up there right now. Maybe tomorrow, when I’m not so tired.”
“Use the same password.”
“Holindarn? Oh … see what you mean.” Her apprehension and dislike vanished, being replaced by normal curiosity as to what a sorcerer might have to show.
Rap swung his legs down from the bed. “Come on! I’ve also repaired the shielding round the castle, so no one can spy on you from outside except when you’re in the topmost chamber.” He opened the door for her and she began dragging her feet up yet another narrow staircase.
His voice echoed behind her. “I’ve even raised the causeway a little — I think it’s subsided since Inisso’s time. And now it’s goblin repellent, just in case. And I’ve restored the inattention spell on the whole kingdom. I made it as strong as I dared. Any stronger, and the ships would forget to come.”
“You’ve been busy.”
“You haven’t exactly been lazing around yourself.”
Then she had reached the chamber of puissance. It was astonishingly warm. Rap’s doing, no doubt. It had been cleaned out. Again, Rap’s doing — only sorcery could have removed every trace of dust like this, and even put a shine on the floor.
Southward, the magic portal was a darkness where the magic casement had been, flanked by windows in the two smaller side arches. Sunrise or sunset was streaming in through those.
The only furniture was a massive chest, so that must be what she had been brought to see. She crossed to it and tried the lid.
“Different password,” Rap said. “Shandie.”
“Why Shandie?” The lid came free in her hand.
“Just easy to remember, hard to guess.”
She looked at the contents — hundreds of wash-leather bags.
“Gold,” Rap said at her elbow. “Never knew a woman go through money like you do, but that lot ought to keep you in pins for a while. The big bag there is your crown. I can’t find the original, so I expect the imps took it, but that’s an exact duplicate.”
Crown? Who cared? She dropped the heavy lid and turned to him with tears starting in her eyes. “Rap, if this means —”
“Yes, it does. Now come along.” He put an arm around her waist and led her over to the portal. He said, “Holindarn!” and opened it and they both recoiled at the bright afternoon sunshine in Kade’s private parlor. Smoke puffed from the fireplace, but not so vigorously as last time.
And Kade, who had been sitting reading a book, jumped to her feet in alarm.
“She’s all right,” Rap said. “Just about out on her feet though. She’s hardly slept.”
“Everything’s fine,” Inos said. Sharp guilt pangs reminded her that she had not been keeping Kade informed.
“Yes, dear, I know,” Kade said. “Well done! Now sit here.”
Between them, they guided Inos to a rose-patterned chair. Old age was really making her legs shaky these days. Her joints had forgotten how to bend. Someone put her feet up on a footstool, and someone else tucked a pillow behind her.
“She just ate,” Rap said. “A hot bath and about ten hours in bed should do it. No one will go looking for her in the castle, but she’ll relax better here.”
Inos stared up with bleary, resentful eyes while Kade went hurrying out to organize and Rap perched on the back of a chair, one foot on the floor, one dangling. No tattoos now. Hair a bird’s nest. Stupid face with wistful expression. That was her man and he was leaving her.
“I’m going, Inos.”
“I can tell.” She was too weary to argue, and that was why he had chosen this moment. Arguing with Rap was never productive, anyway. Pigheaded idiot!
“You’ll do all right,” he said. “You’ve been doing all right.”
“I couldn’t have done anything without you.”
It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair!
“That’s true, but I’ve haven’t done much since the first night except throw out money. I gave you no advice, you know — none! You knew what to do by instinct. I’ll keep an eye on you …”
“I love you. You love me. But you’re going away.”
“And you want to know why. And I can’t tell you. Oh, Inos, dearest, I’d tell you if I could!” He stared at her in dismay. “Listen — the words are more than just words, obviously. They may be the names of demons or elementals. I don’t know that, but it seems reasonable. The elemental is bound by its name and must serve whoever knows it. Makes sense, sort of. Then when you share a word of power, you give the poor old elemental one more person to serve, so its power is … Well, you get the idea.”
With her head back on the cushion like this it was hard to keep his face in focus. Hard to keep anything in focus. The warmth was drugging her.
“And the words are more than just words in other ways, like not showing up to magic.” He rubbed his forehead as if it hurt. “They don’t even like to be talked about.”
She didn’t want his lecture. She wanted him to hold her and stay with her always.
“And of course they are hard to say.” Rap rose to his feet and straightened. “Except that they don’t want to be lost. When I thought I was dying in Azak’s jail, one of my words got very agitated in case it was going to be forgotten. I think I would have found it easy to tell that word to someone then.”
Inos was going to ask a question and she had forgotten what it was and she wasn’t sure her mouth would work very well just now.
“So sometimes the words behave almost as if they’re alive themselves.” Rap took a deep breath, and she realized foggily that he was having trouble telling her all this.
Pain? Painful to talk? Painful to tell a word?
“What about five words?” she murmured. “Explain what happened to Rasha, and almost happened to you.”
Rap opened and closed his mouth a few times, then shook his head. “Sorry!” He turned to stare out the window at the winter sunshine. “Someone told me once that Zinixo was the most powerful sorcerer since Thraine. I bested him! But I can’t …”
“Olybino said that what happened was impossible.”
“It damned nearly was. The dwarf was a pushover compared to that.
But I was mad then. I couldn’t have … done what I did … if I hadn’t been so mad at the dwarf. I hated him so much …”
She gave up. “And you won’t tell me why you’re going away.”
He spoke to the window pane. “Inos … When two people are in love … They like to hold hands, and hug each other, and kiss, and … Well, be affectionate in all sort of intimate ways.”
“You astonish me.” She yawned enormously. Very vulgar.
“One thing leads to another. I’m sorry if this shocks you, but I’m a sorcerer, and I can see through walls, and, well, I’m afraid I’ve seen what happens …”
“I’ve been told all about it.”
“You have?” He sounded surprised. “Well … that’s why I’m going away. I don’t trust myself not to go totally out of control.”
For a moment the absurdity cut through her fog. “Rap! Oh, Rap! I want you to go totally out of control! The sooner the better!”
He turned and stared at her, shaking his head. “I don’t mean that exactly. Well, I do. Of course I do. But I might not be able to control what else …”
Again she wondered why he was having so much trouble in saying what he wanted to say.
“Sorcerers can marry,” she protested weakly.
“They don’t marry sorceresses.”
“Inisso was married. Olliola was his wife’s name.”
“But they didn’t know more than … ” He groaned and stopped.
“You’ll come back, though? Soon?”
He hesitated and she said, “Promise!”
“All right. I promise. Before winter.”
“Sooner!”
“No. Oh, Inos! It isn’t you, love!” he said huskily. “Believe me, it isn’t you! And it isn’t Krasnegar. We’ve seen a lot of the world, haven’t we, between us? And I know I haven’t found anywhere I like better than dowdy little Krasnegar. It’s dull, but it’s honest and it’s friendly. It has no wars or injustice or oppression. You must feel that way, too, don’t you?”
She nodded wearily.
He had moved. He was kneeling by her chair, but his whisper came from a long way off. “Inos … If I said you could come with me; if I said we could go and live together always in a wonderful place and never have any worries ever again … What would you say to that, Inos?”
“Duty?” she murmured. Silly question! She felt a very soft touch on her forehead … Then Kade was shaking her shoulder and saying her bath was ready, and Rap had gone.
4
Slowly the days began to lengthen. Slowly Inos’s life shaped itself into a routine. Slowly her reforms began to show results.
The lumber expedition was successful beyond her dreams, and three others followed. Apparently no one had ever thought of sledges before. The wood was green, of course, but there was plenty of it. Either the goblins did not notice this new activity, or they did not care, and the only injuries were a few toes lost to a combination of frostbite and inexperience. The wear and tear on the horses was more worrisome, but Inos had shown even the elders that new ways could be better, and her reputation suffered no harm.
Babies began arriving, and most of them were accepted and loved as they expected to be. Neither they nor their mothers could be blamed for their existence, and life was a precious thing in the bleak north. Krasnegarians rallied together to welcome and cherish the smelly little darlings.
Tea parties with Kade became a regular part of Inos’s life, and a wonderful relaxation. Kade, having organized Kinvale to her satisfaction, was available to help in other ways, also. Her shrewd common sense was worth a dozen councils.
“This,” Inos explained one sunny afternoon in her aunt’s parlor, “is List Number One.”
Elegant in a rose cambric tea gown, Kade accepted the scroll with a well-manicured hand. “Adzes, awls, bishop … A bishop? Really, Inos! A bishop in a shopping list?”
“And at least two chaplains. That’s just the repair-and-restore list, to get us back to where we were. Now here’s List Number Two, stuff we need to replace the land traffic the goblins have blocked. It’s mostly salt and some foodstuffs, but we do need fresh livestock to build up the herds, and the sailors won’t like that.”
Kade pursed her lips, and then tried List Number Three.
“That’s an Inos-innovation list,” Inos said airily, waving a hand that was decidedly not manicured. “Books and teachers and things, and furniture for the palace.”
“Musical instruments? Five hundred pairs of dancing shoes?”
“Well, they’re not all necessities, I admit. And of course all three lists come after the usual trade that comes every year, like grain and medicine and spices and dyes and sponge iron —”
“What’s sponge iron? Well, never mind, dear. I don’t suppose I should be any happier for knowing. Have some of this sponge cake instead.”
Bored by lack of respectable company during the official mourning for Ekka, Kade was delighted to act as Krasnegar’s business agent. She called in the merchants and collected bids, she chartered the ships, and finally she insisted on paying for everything out of Kinvale’s ample revenues. Ekka had caused much of Krasnegar’s troubles, she said, and her estate should make recompense. Rap’s gold would not last forever. Besides, how was Krasnegar going to survive in future if the goblins stopped trading their furs?
Inos had not even thought of that problem. She inquired and learned that the goblins had not shown up the previous summer. No one seemed very worried, but she asked Foronod to work out the figures for her, and he soon discovered that Krasnegar depended on goblin trade even more than on trade with Nordland. The Queen and factor agreed to suppress that worrying information, keeping it even from the council — queen and factor were developing a reluctant respect for each other.
Spring came early, and the causeway cleared sooner than expected. The herds departed, the boats were made ready. Life went on.
Slowly Inos reestablished friendships and made new ones. Her crown set her apart, though, and she had to accept that subjects, no matter how loyal, could never be true intimates. Even at parties, she was alone. The old stories of Inisso had been revived, and it was generally assumed that she had inherited his magical powers. Odd packages of things like nails and medicines turning up from time to time around the castle did nothing to dispel such rumors. She guarded the secret of the portal to Kinvale; she thought that without that magical escape, she would have gone mad.
The ice cleared the harbor and the southern fleet arrived. The citizens were astonished by the number of ships that came that year, and how many needed items were suddenly available.
Foronod continued as factor, but he was no longer capable of the infinitely detailed supervision for which he had been renowned. Inos herself spent weeks on the mainland, looking over his shoulder, watching, studying, and eventually almost superseding him. An adept could learn to do anything.
The goblins did come, although they now inexplicably refused to cross the causeway and insisted on doing their bartering on the mainland. Queen and factor were very relieved to see the first party arrive, and the bundles of stinking skins the women carried. On impulse, Inos offered swords in trade, and the male goblins were overjoyed to accept. She had plenty of swords and no use for them.
Only after that first party had gone did it occur to her to read over her treaty with the Impire. She discovered that it forbade her to sell arms to goblins. Dear Emshandar!
The nights grew longer. The harvest was gathered into the town, and that great task was completed earlier than anyone could recall.
Every day now Inos hoped for Rap. He had promised to return before winter, and she knew he would keep his word.
He had not faded in her memory, and no other strong lad had taken his place — or, rather, the place that should have been his. She had spent long hours pondering the inexplicable change that sorcery had produced in him, the hints he had dropped, the curious glimpses she had caught once or twice of something in him maddeningly just out of r
each of understanding. Now she had a theory. It was far-fetched, but it matched her skimpy evidence.
She also had a plan.
Inosolan was not yet ready to admit defeat.
5
A full moon was creeping over the horizon as Rap rode down to the shore. The air was nippy and the ground hard, but there was no snow lying around yet. The God of Winter had been neglecting Their duties. The tang of weed and fish, the strident gull calls — it was all heart-rendingly familiar to him. Three wagons were waiting on the tide, anonymous black shapes below the overcast sky. With a broad border of ruddy sunset on one side and the silver stain of moonrise on the other, earth and sea were melding into gray. The waves, though, bore heraldic trim of gules-on-argent.
Few people still lingered amid the shoreline cottages, and they paid small heed to the stranger on the big black horse. One or two nodded in a friendly fashion and then went about their business. He was being immemorable, and they would barely recall seeing him, nor notice that he rode without bit or bridle.
Little remained to be transported: some hides, bones, and a few casks of salted horsemeat to feed the dogs. In bad years the people ate the horsemeat, of course, and sometimes the dogs, also, but this would be a good year. Foronod was missing, which was proof in itself that the town was stocked up for the winter. There was still plenty of peat heaped around. Krasnegar could never have enough of that. As long as the weather permitted, the wagons would continue to haul peat.
Inos had done well. Rap had checked on her progress — often at the beginning, less frequently as he saw that she was coping. She herself had usually been inside the castle, and hence shielded from him, but he had seen the happiness in the streets. Krasnegar was going to survive. He would not have come back had he not promised. He need not stay long. This would be the last time.
He noted the new winter stables with surprise, and casually made them goblin-proof as he rode by. Times were achanging, even in Krasnegar.
He trotted past the lead wagon with a nod to Jik, who returned the nod, then frowned to himself as if annoyed by a failing memory.
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