Raven Ring

by Patricia C. Wrede

  “Lady Laurinel offered me the loan of a gown,” Eleret said. “I declined.”

  “I understand your pride, Freelady,” Daner’s mother said, and hesitated as if deciding how best to phrase what she wanted to say next.

  Eleret gave her no opportunity to continue. “Oh, it wasn’t that,” she said. “It’s because of Lady Metriss here.”

  “Me?” The girl raised her chin haughtily. “That makes no sense, which I suppose is about what we can expect from—”

  “Metriss.” Lady tir Vallaniri did not raise her voice at all, but her daughter subsided abruptly.

  “But you said you wanted to see what people were wearing in the mountains this spring,” Eleret said to Lady Metriss with a bland smile. “This is it.”

  Lady Metriss’s mouth fell open. She looked, Eleret thought, very like a young dog that had poked its nose into a ground squirrel’s den, intending to bite the squirrel, and was surprised and hurt when the ground squirrel bit first. Lady tir Vallaniri suppressed a chuckle, while Laurinel smiled and Raqueva gave Eleret a wary look. Before any of them could respond, the door opened once again and Lady Kistran swept in.

  “Hasn’t Baroja arrived yet, Laurenzi? I thought you were going to send someone—” Lady Kistran stopped short, staring at Eleret with an expression of outraged horror. “What in the Emperor’s name—”

  “Freelady Salven is showing us what’s fashionable in the mountains,” Lady Raqueva said spitefully.

  “Fashionable?”

  “It looks very comfortable,” Laurinel said suddenly.

  “Perhaps it is, for soldiers or guardswomen or women in trade;” her aunt said with a sniff. “For ladies, however—”

  “Hello, all! Sorry I’m late, but I hope you’ll forgive me,” said a new voice in carrying tones.

  Eleret turned to look along with everyone else. A young man posed in the far door, head thrown back, eyes half-closed, one arm extended along the frame of the door above his head. A bright blue cloak hung from the arm in graceful folds, displaying a gold-colored lining that looked as if it might be silk. His sword hung carelessly at his left side, and jewels glittered on the pommel and the guard. Remembering Prill’s description of the Vallaniri sword-skills and Daner’s unexpected competence, Eleret withheld judgment. Jewels could be embedded in Sadorthan steel as well as forge-scrapings.

  “Baroja!” Lady Kistran smiled indulgently and stepped forward, her interest in Eleret forgotten. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

  TWELVE

  BAROJA STEPPED FORWARD AND bowed to his mother with studied grace. “I regret that I’ve inconvenienced you, Mother, but when you hear my news I hope to be forgiven.”

  “News?” said Raqueva in a tone just short of skepticism.

  “I’ve arranged a treat for us all,” Baroja said, sweeping one arm up in a gesture that made his cape swing dangerously close to a vase of flowers on a nearby table. “Now am I forgiven?”

  “That depends on what your ‘treat’ is, Cousin,” Daner said dryly.

  “Yes, why are you being so mysterious, Baroja?” Metriss said. “What is this treat of yours?”

  “A surprise.”

  “Baroja!” Metriss stamped her foot. “Aunt Kistran, make him tell us what he means.”

  “Don’t tease your cousins, Baroja,” Lady Kistran said. “Tell us what your surprise is,”

  “But it isn’t a what,” Baroja said with a wide, toothy smile. “It’s who. I’ve found a Luck-seer; one of the best in Ciaron! And she’s promised to come chart the cards for us later on tonight. Now, am I forgiven?”

  Daner’s female relations were too busy exclaiming with delight to answer him directly. Even Lady tir Vallaniri looked pleased. Eleret wondered why they were all so excited and whether they would expect her to join them. Probably; Baroja’s scheme had the sound of something done for amusement after dinner, like a rope-chase or a dice game. She sighed quietly, and resigned herself. She’d have preferred to spend the evening in her room, sharpening her knives and setting her thoughts in order, but she could not insult her hosts by retiring early when there was entertainment planned, even if they had not been the planners.

  Daner seemed to agree with Eleret. “My idiot cousin has done it again,” he muttered. “I wonder how much this notion will cost him?”

  “More than he can afford,” Lord tir Vallaniri answered in a similar undertone. Raising his voice, he said, “Bring out your Luck-seer, Baroja, and let’s have a look at her.”

  “She isn’t here yet, Uncle,” Baroja replied. “I told her to come an hour from now, after dinner, since she can’t chart while we eat.”

  “I hope you remembered to warn Bresc,” Lord tir Vallaniri said. “I doubt that he’d let her in otherwise.”

  Baroja looked startled. “He wouldn’t? I’d better go tell him, then.” He smiled winningly at Raqueva and Metriss. “It wouldn’t do to have her sent away after I promised you a treat.”

  With another bow, he turned and swept back into the stairwell. “Be quick,” Lady Kistran called after him. “We’ve spent enough time waiting for you as it is.”

  “Yes, Mother.” Baroja’s words, echoing back from the stairwell, had the sound of an automatic, meaningless response.

  “I think we will go in to dinner now,” Lady tir Vallaniri said, waving her daughters toward the door. “Baroja won’t be long.”

  “I have seldom heard more hopeful words spoken with less reason,” Daner’s father said. “But by all means let us go in to dinner.” He nodded at Lady Kistran, then made a half-bow and held out his left hand, palm up, to his wife. Lady tir Vallaniri smiled and covered his hand with her own. Together, they walked slowly down the hall toward the door. Lady Kistran looked after them with a sour expression.

  “Eleret!” Daner whispered urgently.

  Eleret turned, hating him for one brief, irrational moment because his mother was here, walking handfast with her husband through the rooms of her home. The moment passed, and Eleret realized that he was holding his left hand out to her in the same gesture his father had just used. Surprise kept her motionless for an instant, and Daner’s brows contracted.

  “Come on, Eleret,” he said in a low voice, his lips barely moving.

  Still wondering, Eleret laid her right hand on his. As she did, Lady Kistran gave an audible sniff and turned. “Daner,” she said in a commanding tone, “I— Oh.”

  Daner’s fingers closed convulsively around Eleret’s as his aunt spoke, and suddenly Eleret understood. Lady Kistran’s expression grew even more sour than before, but she made no comment as Daner led Eleret down the hall after his parents and sisters.

  As they drew away, out of hearing, Eleret looked at Daner and raised her eyebrows. “What was that about?”

  “Family,” Daner said. “Aunt Kistran is in one of her moods, and I didn’t want to spend dinner coddling her. Which I won’t have to do if I take you in instead of her. No matter how irritated she’s feeling, she’d never humiliate a guest by demanding the place you’d already claimed.”

  Maybe not, thought Eleret, but I’ll bet she’d have taken it without a second thought if I hadn’t already claimed it. Which explained why Daner had been in such a hurry. Eleret sighed, wishing she knew more of Ciaronese ways. Or was it knowledge of noblemen’s ways that she needed? Well, it was only for one evening, and if she annoyed Daner’s family out of ignorance, it would not matter much once she was back in the mountains.

  Dinner began awkwardly. When Eleret and Daner had entered the room, Daner’s sisters already occupied three of the four chairs placed around the center of the long table. As they approached, Lady Raqueva looked over her shoulder, flushed, and leaned sideways to whisper something to Lady Metriss. An instant later, they rose and moved to the lower end of the table. Lady Metriss sniffed audibly as she passed. Daner, apparently oblivious to the undercurrents, seated Eleret in the chair Raqueva had just vacated and took Metriss’s place himself.

  On Eleret’s left, Lady tir Valla
niri gave her daughters an approving smile. As if in answer to a signal, Lady Kistran swept in, frowning, and took her seat across the table from her hostess. Lady tir Vallaniri’s smile flattened slightly; then she turned to her husband and said calmly, “We are all here except Baroja. Is it your pleasure to begin, my lord?”

  “It is my very great pleasure,” Lord tir Vallaniri replied, and nodded at an unobtrusive man standing beside a side table heavily laden with covered platters. The man bowed.

  Picking up the nearest of the platters, he removed the cover and carried the dish to Lord tir Vallaniri. Lord tir Vallaniri examined the contents, then served first his wife, then Lady Kistran, and finally himself.

  The man bowed again and moved to Daner’s side. To Eleret’s surprise and annoyance, Daner proceeded to spoon some of the contents—a pile of finger-length fish that had apparently been fried whole—onto her plate. He did the same for his sisters, then served himself. The servant returned the platter to the side table, chose another, and repeated the sequence. While he made his slow way along the table, a dark-haired girl entered with a pitcher and poured wine into the pewter goblets that stood in front of every place.

  The number of dishes and the amount of food amazed Eleret. There were chunks of white fish wrapped in dark green leaves, thick slices of well-browned meat, fresh bread with herb-flavored oil to dip it in, and a whole tray of small birds stuffed with grain. Most of the food was lukewarm, but she still had to remind herself several times not to eat too much. A large meal would make her sluggish.

  Daner’s sisters chattered almost constantly, but to Eleret’s relief they did not seem to care whether or not she joined them. Lady tir Vallaniri, on Eleret’s left, directed an occasional remark to her, as if to let her know that she was not being overlooked. None of the comments required a response, and Eleret did not give any beyond a nod of recognition. Eating without bumping elbows with Lady tir Vallaniri was difficult enough; doing so while trying to talk sensibly without giving away too much would be next to impossible. Fortunately, the wine was watered, but even so Eleret drank sparingly.

  True to Lord tir Vallaniri’s prediction, Baroja did not appear until everyone had almost finished their first servings. He had disposed of his cloak, but he walked as though he still wore it. Eleret could almost see it swirl behind him as he progressed from the door to the dinner table. Daner s sisters pounced on him at once, firing questions at him like a company of archers.

  “Tell us about the Luck-seer, Baroja! How soon will she be here, do you think?”

  “Will she be able to chart our cards right away after dinner, or will we have to wait?”

  “Can she do all of us, or only one or two?”

  “Will she let us watch each other’s chartings?”

  “Where did you find her? Is she very good?”

  Laughing, Baroja threw his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “One at a time, if it please you, ladies! And remember that I haven’t eaten yet.”

  “And whose fault is that?” Daner muttered as Baroja took the seat across from him and smoothed an invisible crease from his sleeve. The dark-haired girl materialized immediately to fill Baroja’s goblet.

  “Have some fish,” Raqueva said, signaling the man by the side table. “How soon can we begin?”

  “Not until I’m done with dinner,” Baroja said with a smile. “Thank you, Cousin.”

  “Oh, Baroja, don’t be difficult,” Metriss said. “You can talk while you eat. Tell us about the Luck-seer!”

  “Such enthusiasm astounds me,” Lord tir Vallaniri put in, taking another piece of fish. “I commend you, Baroja. I haven’t seen Metriss so lively since she was four.”

  Metriss flushed. Across from Eleret, Lady Laurinel frowned. “You shouldn’t tease Riss, Father. We’re all excited. It isn’t everyone who can have her cards charted by someone who really understands how to do it.”

  “I stand corrected.”

  “What is ‘charting the cards’?” Eleret whispered to Daner as Baroja finished filling his plate.

  Daner looked at her in surprise. “You’ve never heard about charting the cards?” he said in a normal tone.

  Heads turned along the table, and Eleret sighed. “No, I haven’t. What does it mean?”

  “It’s difficult to explain,” Metriss said. “Baroja—”

  “Let your cousin eat in peace, Riss,” Lady tir Vallaniri said. “You have the rest of the evening to question him.”

  “Does that mean you’ve never had your cards charted?” Raqueva asked Eleret in a speculative tone.

  “If I had, I might know what all of you were talking about.”

  “It’s a variety of divinatory magic,” Daner said. “Very popular for predicting the future, in spite of its inaccuracy and lack of clarity.”

  “Inaccuracy!” Metriss’s half-shriek of outrage drew a disapproving frown from her aunt. “What about Sivelin’s brother? What about Vanery and the horse? What about—”

  “Metriss.” Lady tir Vallaniri’s voice was not loud, but it penetrated her daughter’s stream of complaints like a fire-arrow penetrating fog. Metriss broke off, scowling petulantly.

  “Riss is very firm in her opinions,” Laurinel put in. “You should not tease her, Daner.” Despite her words, her eyes were on Eleret as she spoke, and her tone was apologetic.

  “It only makes me more curious,” Eleret said. Since it seemed that she would have to join in this card-charting, she might as well find out what she was in for. “How does this card magic work?”

  “Resonance and imaging,” Daner replied. “The pattern of the cards themselves sets up a weak charm over a limited area, so in theory it doesn’t even take a magician to use them.”

  “I presume that is the reason for their popularity,” Lord tir Vallaniri put in, looking interested.

  “Yes, but without a magician to reinforce the spell, it’s a matter of luck whether or not the focus is the one intended,” Daner said. “Hence the inaccuracy.”

  Raqueva gave her brother a sharp look, then said in a bored tone, “And the lack of clarity?”

  “It’s part of the same problem. Anyone can lay out a pattern of cards, but interpreting it correctly takes knowledge and skill. The knowledge is rare enough; skill is even more so.”

  “But, Daner, that’s the whole point,” Baroja said. He smiled winningly as everyone looked at him.

  “What is?” Daner asked wearily when Baroja did not continue.

  “Why, hiring a Luck-seer, of course.” Baroja sat back, his expression smug, as if he had just made an unarguable point. “You see?”

  “No.”

  “Really, Daner!” Lady Kistran frowned at him. “Clearly, Baroja’s Luck-seer has both knowledge and skill, or she would not be earning coin by charting cards. How did you find her, Baroja?”

  “Oh, one of Toricar’s Trader friends presented her to me this afternoon,” Baroja said. “And if anyone knows about charting cards, it’s a Trader.”

  “Traders are also remarkably good at spotting an easy catch,” Lord tir Vallaniri remarked.

  “I think it was very clever of Baroja to hire her,” Metriss said pugnaciously.

  “And very kind of him to think of us,” Raqueva put in.

  “It was nothing,” Baroja said modestly. “The moment I saw her, I knew you’d want her to do your cards. And knowing that, how could I not beg her to come?”

  “Will your Luck-seer have time to chart all of us?” Lady tir Vallaniri asked. “We seem to be more numerous than usual tonight.”

  “I don’t see why not,” Baroja replied. “She said she’d stay the whole evening.”

  “This Luck-seer of yours must be a remarkably obliging woman,” Lord tir Vallaniri said. “I am becoming eager to meet her.”

  “Does that mean that you’ll have your cards charted this time, Father?” asked Laurinel.

  “No, it does not.”

  “Daner will, though,” Metriss said. “Won’t you, Daner?”

  “O
nly if you insist,” Daner told her. “I’m not interested in trickery.”

  “Freelady Salven must certainly have her cards charted,” Raqueva put in, giving Eleret an indecipherable look. “Especially since she’s never done it before.”

  “Yes, of course you must, Freelady,” Laurinel said. “I hope the Luck-seer will let us watch. Charting someone’s cards for the very first time is more involved than renewing a chart; it would be so interesting.”

  “As you will have it,” Eleret said with a mental grimace, There’d be no getting out of it now, but then, there had never really been much chance of avoiding the card-charting. She could only hope it wouldn’t last too long, or be too dull. Daner’s attitude was not exactly encouraging.

  “And Aunt Kistran must have a turn as well,” Raqueva said. “After all, we wouldn’t have a Luck-seer at all if Baroja hadn’t brought one.”

  “By that logic, Baroja should go first.” Daner’s voice was full of mischief. “What do you say, Cousin? She’s your Luck-seer.”

  “Oh, Daner!” Metriss turned the corners of her mouth down. “Baroja brought her here for us.”

  “Very true,” Baroja said. “I’ll go last.”

  “That hardly seems fair,” Laurinel objected, frowning slightly.

  “Well, but if Aunt Kistran takes the first turn—” Raqueva began.

  “I do not intend to have my cards charted at all,” Lady Kistran announced.

  “Don’t you?” Lady tir Vallaniri said with mild surprise. “I shall certainly have mine done. I find it interesting to watch, especially when they get everything wrong.”

  “It is an amusement for younger folk, Laurenzi,” Kistran replied. “I will be quite content to listen to their tales as they come back from their charting.”

  Daner leaned toward Eleret and said softly, “Whit she means is that she doesn’t want her chart chewed over in public. She’ll lecture everyone else on what their charts really mean, then corner the Luck-seer privately later on, wait and see.”