by Kate Forsyth
‘I have Merry, and my new squire, Laurie,’ Zed replied easily. ‘Do I need anyone else so close to home?’
‘We’ve been hiking in the mountains,’ Merry said. ‘We had to escape Zed’s aunt’s, you can’t imagine how bad it was! She has seven daughters, each uglier than the last, and no dowries!’
The soldiers grinned.
‘You should’ve seen them, hanging on Zed’s every word, blushing and flapping their eyelashes, dropping their handkerchiefs before him at every step.’
‘It wasn’t that bad,’ Zed said. ‘They were really very amiable.’
‘Which was why you dragged me out hiking and fishing in the mountains in the dead of winter,’ Merry said, grinning.
‘Well . . .’ Zed said. ‘There’s really only so such amiability a man can take.’
As he spoke, he walked forward confidently between the crack in the immense iron-clad gates. The soldiers eased it open to make room for his tall, broad-shouldered form. Merry followed close behind, then turned and looked behind him.
Liliana hung back, feeling rather forlorn.
‘Come on, Laurie!’ Merry called. Then, teasingly, ‘They might have roast hare on the menu.’
Zed turned in surprise. ‘Laurie, what are you waiting for?’ he called cheerfully. ‘My mother’s cook is excellent, and you must be hungry enough to eat a horse. I know I am.’
Reluctantly Liliana came forward, past the poker-faced soldiers in their shining armour. She looked through the gates, which led into a long, dark passageway guarded by an immense portcullis, its points sharpened to shining steel. The passageway was so long it was impossible to see what lay beyond.
Wilhelm said hurriedly, ‘I’ll just go and report your arrival, sir!’
‘Yes, off you go,’ Zed said, waving his hand dismissively. ‘Tell the cooks to throw another suckling pig on the fire! I could eat one right down to its trotters.’
Liliana took a deep breath and walked in under the portcullis. As the other soldier slammed the gates shut behind her, and shot the bolts home, a small shudder ran through her but she held her head high.
Just then, a tall, strongly built man with a hard, leathery face and neatly plaited white hair strode out of the gatehouse. His thick white moustache had been waxed so it curled stiffly at the ends. His eyes were ice-blue. At his waist was a long sword in a leather sheath, its silver hilt beautifully formed in the shape of a swan’s neck and head, with sapphire eyes.
‘Lord Zedrin! Welcome home. What a surprise. My lady will be so pleased.’
Then the old man frowned, having seen Liliana standing behind, her chin lifted proudly. One hand dropped to the hilt of his sword.
‘Who is this?’ the constable asked in a tone of deep suspicion. ‘Is this a guest of yours, my lord?’
‘In a manner of speaking,’ Zed replied easily. ‘This is my new squire, Laurie . . . ah, Laurence of Sennaval.’ He quickly named the town where his aunt lived, and where he and Merry had indeed gone visiting before spending the past six months at the Erlrune’s.
‘Laurie, this is Aubin the Fair, constable of the castle. You see he is permitted to wear a sword, a sign of my uncle’s great faith in him.’
Aubin’s eyes had been raking over Liliana, noting her stormy grey eyes, the halo of dark curls, the quiver of grey-fletched arrows at her belt and the longbow slung over her shoulder.
‘I see. And how is it you’ve come to appoint a new squire, my lord? Did your uncle check all his references for you? He does not seem very sturdy. If you were wanting a new squire, my lord, I could have found one for you, a local boy whose family we know, one that I could train up under my own hand to do things our way.’
‘I’m sure Laurie will fit in just fine,’ Zed said. ‘His family is well known to both my parents.’
‘It is odd I have never heard of the lad before if he is such an old friend of the family.’
The constable was still staring at Liliana suspiciously, and she shifted a little under his scrutiny, colour rising in her cheeks. She put up one hand to shove back a curl, then suddenly remembered she was not supposed to reveal her ears, and shook her curls free again, feeling a slow flush rise up her body. She hated lying and subterfuge.
‘His aunt is one of my mother’s dearest friends,’ Zed said, raising one eyebrow. ‘Mama will fall on his neck with squeals of delight, I assure you.’
‘You say he comes from Sennaval?’ Aubin said gruffly, striking one finger against the other in an age-old gesture against evil. ‘Lots of wildkin there. This lad has the look of the wildkin about him. I’ve seen it before. Those slanted eyes, and the way he feared to come under the portcullis. They hate being safe within stone walls like normal folk, these wildkin.’
Liliana narrowed her eyes, staring at him haughtily, and Merry very surreptitiously shook his head at her. She gritted her teeth, and tried to look meek.
‘Don’t you worry, Aubin,’ Zed said cheerfully, ‘I’ll vouch for Laurie. And wait till you see how well he can shoot!’
He slapped the old man on the shoulder, then led Liliana down the long, dark tunnel under the gatehouse. She balled her hands into fists, trying to breathe slowly and evenly through her nose, hating the dank smell.
They came out into the inner bailey. A few faint stars gleamed overhead. Lamplight shone warmly through the narrow window slits, and she could hear dogs whining, and pigs squealing, and the flap and flutter of wings. A screech rang out, startling her. Liliana turned to look towards the sound and saw a pair of big doors standing open nearby, flinging an apron of light out into the courtyard. Within was a groom fighting to hold on to the bridle of an enormous white bird, its head encased in a silver helmet. It spread its great wings and shrieked with rage, slashing at the groom with its wickedly curved beak, and the boy sprang back and called for help.
‘A sisika bird!’ Zed said. ‘I wonder who could be here.’
‘It’s so big,’ Liliana said quietly. ‘And it looks so cruel. I did not realise . . .’
She shivered and drew her cloak more tightly around her.
‘We do not keep sisikas here,’ Zed said. ‘My father does not like them, and is not permitted to ride them anyway, being a hearthkin and not of noble blood. Uncle Ziggy, who is the count here in Estelliana, is not really well enough. Here, come and see the starthorn tree.’
He led the way to a wide round pool where a tall tree grew. In the faint light filtering down from the window slits, Liliana could see its black thorny branches hung with heavy globes of golden fruit.
‘Do not go near,’ Zed warned her. ‘Don’t seek to climb the tree or pluck its fruit. A single scratch from one of those thorns will kill you.’
‘And the fruit will make you dance till you die,’ she answered somberly.
‘You know the story? But of course, the Erlrune will have told you all about it.’
‘Your uncle drank just one mouthful of ale made from the starthorn apples and lay in an enchanted sleep for months.’
‘Until my parents and Merry’s parents and your aunt woke him,’ Zed said, gazing up at the tree.
‘But everyone else died.’
‘Yes. But Mama says it’s some consolation to know they must have died happy. They wouldn’t have known they were poisoned. Apparently they danced all night, laughing and singing, until one by one they began to fall. No-one would have realised.’
As he spoke, Zed headed towards a small dark doorway set under a massive structure of stone that loomed high over their heads, sharp against the stars.
Liliana hung back. ‘I’m not sure this is a good idea.’
The boys stared at her in surprise.
‘Why not? What’s wrong?’ Zed asked.
‘Is it being inside high walls that’s bothering you?’ Merry asked.
‘No! It’s just . . . We have a task to complete.’
‘Do you mean getting the swan feather?’ Zed demanded incredulously. ‘It’s dark now, Lili! I have no desire to wrestle with a swan i
n the dark. They’re vicious beasts, you know.’
‘Shhh, not so loud!’
Zed looked at her in concern. ‘There’s no need to be wary here, Lili, I promise you. I know you were right and I was wrong, back at Stormlinn, but we’re safe here at Estelliana.’
‘There are starkin spies everywhere,’ Liliana said desperately.
Zed took her cold hand in his big, warm one. ‘Not here. I’ve known everyone here since I was a baby. They’re all loyal, I promise you.’
‘You can’t be sure,’ Liliana said. ‘That man . . . Aubin the Fair . . . the way he looked at me. I’m sure he suspects something.’
‘Aubin made me my first little wooden sword, when I was only two,’ Zed said, drawing away. ‘He used to give me piggyback rides all around the castle, and then taught me how to ride and wrestle and joust and fight with a sword. He’s like family to me.’
‘I’m sorry . . . but I think we should go away from here right now, pluck the swan feather and then go on as fast as we can to find the other feathers.’
Zed stared at her in astonishment. ‘You can’t be serious! I haven’t seen my parents for months. And we’re a matter of steps away from a hot bath, a good meal and a warm bed. The swans will still be there in the morning.’
‘Don’t be afraid,’ Merry said gently. ‘Zed’s parents are good people, really they are.’
‘I am not afraid!’ she flashed.
‘Good. Come on then.’ Zed took a few quick steps to the side door, which stood half-open nearby. Merry smiled encouragingly at Liliana and followed.
Still she hesitated. The back of her neck prickled. Liliana swung round and searched the shadows behind her with suspicious eyes. A square-set figure was skulking in the archway to the gatehouse. It was Aubin the Fair. Liliana stared at him challengingly and he stared back, frowning, before turning away.
CHAPTER 11
Lord Zakary
ZED CRIED OUT IN SURPRISE AS HE SWUNG WIDE THE SIDE door and collided with someone on the other side. Liliana swung around at once, her heart jumping.
‘Gracious me! Is it a burglar?’ the stranger cried in a high, shrill voice. ‘Please don’t kill me. You can have all my rings and bracelets, and oh, my earrings too, as long as you don’t kill me!’
‘As if there’d be burglars coming in the west door,’ Zed said with disgust. ‘How do you think they’d get in the gate? Who is that anyway? Don’t tell me . . .’
He pulled out his night-light and illuminated it. At once golden light flowed over the scene, revealing a tall, slender young man with pale, flowing curls. He was dressed in a diaphanous robe of silvery-blue, belted extravagantly at the waist with a purple sash with crimson and gold fringing, and high-heeled silver shoes with long pointed toes and an extravagant jewelled buckle.
‘Zakary?’ Zed said, sounding unpleasantly surprised.
‘Zed!’ the young man answered. ‘How delightful! And how unexpected. What in heaven’s name are you doing here?’
‘I live here,’ Zed said crossly. ‘The question is, what are you doing here?’
‘I’ve come to stay, my dear. Country air and all that.’
‘I thought you hated country air,’ Merry said. ‘I seem to remember that the last time you came you swore never to return.’
Zakary sighed. ‘Yes. If only I had listened to myself. I had persuaded myself it could not possibly be as bad as I remembered . . . but one forgets.’
‘The sisika bird,’ Zed groaned. ‘Of course, I should have recognised it.’
‘I heard dear Sugar screeching and came down to see if I could soothe him. He can be rather cranky in a strange place. Maybe it’s the smell. There is a lingering odour . . .’ Zakary pulled a purple silk handkerchief out of his sleeve and held it to his nose. ‘Why, I do believe it’s you, Merrik! What have you been doing, wrestling with the pigs? Or perhaps it is that vile creature you have on your shoulder. What is it? A rat?’
‘I’d rather smell of good clean ferret than stink of scent,’ Merry flashed back. ‘Whatever have you drenched yourself with, Zak? You smell like a strumpet’s garret!’
Zed bit back a grin, saying mildly, ‘It is rather strong, Zak. Have you been romping in the rose garden again?’
‘Oh, Zed darling, you do make me laugh! It’s all the rage. Princess Adora gave me a whole bottleful, to thank me for a quite trifling service I did her. But you have an excellent nose, my sweet, really quite an excellent nose. It is rose, with heart notes of amber and patchouli, and just a hint, the merest hint, of civet. Isn’t it divine?’
‘It smells like that disgusting green slime you get at the bottom of a vase after the flowers have all rotted away,’ Merry said.
‘Oh, Merry!’ Zakary gave a trill of laughter. ‘What are we going to do with you? Such a rustic.’
‘Better than being a fop,’ Merry replied.
‘A fop? Me? I do protest. I’m the pinnacle, the absolute pinnacle, of court fashion, my dear. But tell me, who is this rather pretty young man? I don’t believe we’ve met.’
‘Zak, this is my new squire, Laurie. His aunt is a friend of my parents.’
‘Not, I will hazard a guess, from a starkin family? No? I thought not.’ With a flick of his fan he dismissed Liliana. ‘But tell me, Zed, my dear, where have you been?’
‘A bit of hunting, a bit of fishing,’ Zed answered vaguely. ‘Before that we were staying at my aunt’s. But more importantly, what are you doing here? I don’t believe you’ve come all this way for a breath of fresh air.’
‘Gambling debts is my bet,’ Merry said. ‘That’s what it was last time, wasn’t it?’
Zakary shrugged. ‘My dear Merry, you malign me. Not that I haven’t run up a few trifling debts, but nothing that my dear papa can’t honour. Certainly not enough to drive me away from court!’
His voice faded as he stared dreamily out into the darkness. Then he sighed, waved his handkerchief, and resumed in a stronger voice. ‘The fact of the matter is, I was sent here to help prepare Zedrin for his court appearance. A little polish, as it were. I mean, it’s not the poor boy’s fault that he was brought up in the wilds, is it?’
‘Court appearance? What court appearance?’ Zed demanded.
‘Oh, darling, don’t you know? Whoopsies!’ He clapped one hand to his mouth. ‘Have I let the cat out of the bag? I swear I mean to be the absolute soul of discretion, but really, how am I meant to remember who knows what?’
‘Jumping Jimjinny!’ Zed exchanged a quick glance with Merry and Liliana. They had been expecting to have to convince Zed’s family to let them go to court. This was a most unexpected development.
Zakary sighed and rolled his eyes. ‘Such vulgarity! We of the Ziv simply do not use such expressions. I can see my work is cut out for me here in Estelliana. Luckily there is no-one—no-one, my dear Zed—better equipped to teach you how to get on at court. The first thing we must do is find you a better tailor. What are you thinking, allowing yourself to be seen in public in such an outfit? So drab! So crude! Still, what else can be expected when one sees the company you keep?’
Zakary cast a condescending glance at Liliana and Merry and shook his head in sorrow. ‘Oh, la! The work that lies ahead of me. Fortunately I brought quite a number of trunks with me from Zarissa. I just might have a little something in there I can have altered for you.’
He slipped his hand through Zed’s arm and drew him through the doorway. The last Liliana heard was a little trill of delight as Zakary exclaimed, ‘Oh, but Zed, your muscles! Most unfashionable! But delightful. I fear nothing of mine will fit you, I cultivate a far more delicate look . . .’
‘Who was that?’ Liliana demanded. ‘Surely he can’t be related to Zed!’
‘I’m afraid he is,’ Merry replied. ‘He descends on us whenever he runs out of money, which is a little too often for my liking. I think he goes from one relative to another, living the high life at their expense. His father lost all his land years ago, gambling, and now they have nothing b
ut the right to put “ziv” in their name.’
‘I don’t like him,’ Liliana said in a very definite voice.
Merry grinned at her. ‘I’m sure you don’t. He’s just what you expected me and Zed to be like, isn’t he?’
Liliana smiled unwillingly.
‘Just try not to hiss “starkin scum” at him every time you see him.’
‘I’ll try,’ she replied with an exaggerated sigh. ‘But it’s going to be very hard.’
Zed was waiting for them in the hallway above. ‘Zak’s gone to get changed. I bet it’s the tenth time today! Come on, Lili, let’s go and introduce you to my mother. She’ll be so glad to see you.’
Liliana took a deep breath as he led them into a warm, round room, hung with tapestries and embroideries. Its arched windows were set with amber-coloured glass so that the windows would blaze golden when lit from within and all the people of Levanna-On-The-Lake would know when the family was at home.
A beautiful, fair-haired woman in a loose blue mantle sat sewing in a winged chair by the fire, her feet resting on a fat velvet stool. A brown-bearded man sat opposite, strumming a lute which he held on his lap. A collection of other women sat on the floor or on cushions nearby. Some were embroidering, some were spinning, another two were weaving cloth on a loom. Most were dark-haired and dark-eyed, and dressed simply in grey wool. A slender girl of about fifteen was sitting on the hearth rug, playing with a fluffy white kitten. She was dressed gorgeously in pink silk, and wore her honey-coloured hair loose. Her nails were painted silver, and her eyes were a warm brown like her father’s. She leapt up at the sight of Zed, shrieking his name and casting herself into his arms.
‘Hello, Priscilla,’ he said and disentangled himself. ‘Should you shout like that? I’m not deaf, you know. Mama, how are you? It’s lovely to see you!’
The slim, fair-haired woman rose swiftly to her feet. ‘Zed! What a wonderful surprise.’ She embraced him, then held out her hands to Merry. ‘And Merry too. Look at you, you both look worn out. Have you just come from the Perilous Forest? You must be starving.’