by Sharon Shinn
“No, he proves it! Come, Bryce, let’s show this skeptic what a reader like you is capable of.”
“I am not interested in demonstrations, thank you all the same.”
“Oh, this is very quick and most eye-opening, I assure you.” Jasper picked up his small jeweled crown from the board—the most valuable piece in the game—and tossed it from hand to hand. “Look away,” he commanded Bryce, who obediently turned around. “Really, Zellin, watch this. You’ll be amazed. Which hand am I holding the crown in?”
“Your left.”
Jasper switched hands. “And now?”
“Your right.”
Jasper settled the crown in the middle of his graying brown hair. “And now?”
Bryce laughed. “It’s on top of your head.”
Jasper tilted his chin and caught the game piece as it slid off his forehead. “You see?” he said to Zellin. “He is never wrong.”
“How can you possibly expect me to be impressed by such a bit of foolery?” Zellin demanded. “You could have rehearsed that before I arrived. That’s hardly any proof of magic.”
“You try it,” Jasper said. He handed over his crown as carelessly as if it hadn’t been the object of all Zellin’s plotting for the last half hour. “Tell him when you’re ready for him to speak.”
Zellin sighed in irritation, closed his fingers over the crown and said, “Tell me, then.”
“Your right hand, my lord.”
“You see?” said Jasper.
“A lucky guess.”
“Try it ten times over and see how lucky he is.”
Grumbling and rolling his eyes, Zellin did so, and his frown actually grew blacker every time Bryce was correct. On the ninth try, he silently handed the game piece back to Jasper, then focused his suspicious eyes on Bryce’s shoulders.
“Lord Jasper has it now,” Bryce said confidently.
Jasper laughed and negligently flicked the piece up in the air, catching it in his right hand. “Enough of a demonstration for you?” he said. “It’s a startling sort of magic, isn’t it? And, of course, Bryce’s abilities are insignificant compared to Cammon’s.”
Zellin looked angry, but also a little discomfited. Wen imagined he was thinking back to his audience with Cammon and feeling just a little uneasy about what he might have revealed, all unknowing. “It doesn’t matter,” he said defiantly. “I have nothing to conceal.”
Jasper nodded toward the door. “Thank you, Bryce. Off to bed with you now, I think.” He waited until Wen had shut the door behind the boy, and then he turned back to Jasper. “Nothing to conceal?” he repeated in a pleasant voice. “I suppose your son does not confide in you, then.”
Wen tensed and straightened, her hands moving closer to her weapons. After an evening of meandering and innocuous conversation, it appeared Jasper was suddenly ready to open battle with a heavy salvo.
“Tover?” Zellin said in blank surprise. “I suppose he has secrets from me, as any young man might, but—What are you saying, Paladar?”
“Karryn identified him as the man who abducted her, intent on marrying her to gain the title of marlord.”
“That’s a lie!” Zellin roared, coming to his feet with a dagger in his hand. Wen flew to his side, knocking him in the chest so hard that he tripped over his chair and fell heavily to the floor. His dagger skittered away to land against a bookcase near the far wall. Moss, as prearranged, had dashed over to defend Jasper. Wen stood over Zellin, her own knife drawn, ready to inflict real damage if he made another offensive move.
“Call off your guard,” Zellin snarled, giving Wen an ugly look but making no effort to rise. “But if you don’t withdraw your accusation against my son, I’ll have your blood. And I mean it.”
“Willa, let him get up and take his chair,” Jasper said. He waited until Zellin was seated, Wen hovering mere inches away, before he added, “But I do not recant my statement. Tover kidnapped Karryn. He was assisted by a large, bald, brutish man named Darvis—I see by your expression that you recognize the description. They appeared to be carrying her northwest from Forten City. You have property in that corner of the region, do you not?”
“You lie,” Zellin said. But Wen thought he was shaken. “Your ward has set herself to ruin my son. If you publicly accuse him, I will ruin you. Don’t think I can’t.”
“I have very little that you can take away from me, so I am not particularly worried,” Jasper replied. “But you might notice that I have not, so far, said a word against your son to anyone, not even Karryn’s mother. I have no desire to cast aspersions on the whole rank of serlords, so new to their positions and fighting so hard for acceptance from both the Twelfth and Thirteenth Houses. I will not embarrass you by calling him to account—but I require you to do so.”
“What do you expect of me?” Zellin said gruffly.
“Cast him off,” Jasper said. “I do not know who your next heir is, but there should be a formal announcement that Tover is passed over—though you need not name the reasons.”
Zellin stiffened in his chair. “I will not do it,” he said. “Not on so little evidence. I will ask him, and if he admits it, then I will consider what you say, but I—”
“I will take my case to Ghosenhall,” Jasper said calmly. “I will lay the matter before Cammon and ask him to adjudicate. No doubt he will summon you and your son immediately to the royal city.” He gestured at the door. “You saw how easily Bryce was able to read your actions, and he is just a small boy with a modest amount of magic. Cammon will be able to read your soul—and your son’s soul. Tover is no longer your heir, Zellin. Either you make that decision, for reasons you need not disclose, or the crown will make it, and possibly publish the reason. Those are your only two options.”
Very neatly done! Wen thought with real admiration. It reminded her irresistibly of the game strategy she had employed in her own cruxanno competition with Jasper. Spin out the game interminably, lay out all the pieces in a manner that seemed completely random, and then, with a single move, destroy the unprepared opponent. Zellin could fight and lose, or he could surrender and save some dignity. He could not win.
“I will speak to my son,” Zellin ground out. His hands were clenched upon the armrests of the chair; Wen saw his nails bite through the tapes-tried fabric. “If he admits what you tell me is true—then I will disinherit him. But if you speak of this to another living soul—”
“Only the crown,” Jasper said. “And only if necessary.” He seemed to be struck by a new thought. “Oh—and if Tover attempts any such course of action again, with my ward or any young woman, I will, of course, be compelled to speak up.” He smiled at Zellin. “But I am sure you have ways to ensure that Tover never has the liberty or means to behave in such a fashion again.”
“Yes,” Zellin snapped, “you can be sure I know how to control my son.”
“Well, then,” Jasper said, reaching for one of the bottles of wine. “Shall we refresh ourselves? All this talk has made me thirsty.”
Keeping a wary eye on Wen, Zellin came slowly to his feet. “No wine for me, Paladar,” he said. “And no more cruxanno, either. It is too late to call for my carriage, or I would not even spend the rest of this night under your roof. I will be gone in the morning before you rise and I hope not to see you again anytime in the near future. You or your ward,” he added.
Without another word, he stalked straight for the door. Wen had to follow him, of course, for it was clear to her that he could not be left unguarded for the rest of his stay in the house; no doubt she would be spending the night dozing in the hall outside his bedroom. But at the door, she briefly turned to give Jasper one quick, appraising look, all her wonder and admiration visible on her face. He caught her expression and grinned, exultant as a boy who had won his first game of skill against a much older and more seasoned opponent.
Chapter 15
THEY WERE A HALF DAY’S JOURNEY OUTSIDE OF GISSEL Plain when dark found them still on the road. Senneth sighed at
the prospect of spending another night at a roadside inn. Not that she was eager to arrive at Gissel Plain and whatever hospitality her brother might provide, but she was wearying of the travel.
Tayse, of course, had foreseen by noon that they wouldn’t make it to journey’s end by nightfall, so he’d sent on ahead to arrange for their lodging for the night. Sunset found them in a good-sized town with a commodious inn clearly designed to appeal to the wealthy. Tayse and Justin disappeared to settle the royal troops for the night, while the other Riders followed Cammon.
A tall, gaunt woman of indeterminate years led Cammon and his entourage to the second floor, pointing out the chambers that had been reserved for the Riders and then unlocking the door for royalty. After the Riders had inspected it for hazards and withdrawn, Senneth took one quick look around at the luxurious furnishings. The canopied bed in the middle of the room was enormous; she rather thought all nine Riders could sleep alongside Cammon and none of them would feel particularly crowded.
“Water will be brought immediately for your bath,” the haggard woman said in a sepulchral voice. “Would you like dinner in your chambers or in a private room?”
“Oh, in the taproom, please,” Cammon said.
The proprietress gave him a look of horror. “Among the common people? Grubby and uncivilized?”
Cammon laughed. He seemed to find something about her, invisible to Senneth, charming in the extreme, for he was giving her his brightest smile. “They’re my people, after all,” he said.
“Highness, you might reconsider,” the woman urged.
Senneth wished he would, too, but she didn’t like strangers trying to give Cammon advice. “He knows very well where he would like to eat,” she said sharply. “Now, perhaps you could show me where I’m staying tonight?”
The woman gave Senneth one long, comprehensive appraisal. “Aren’t you one of the Queen’s Riders?” she said. “Won’t you be sleeping with them?”
In fact, considering she lived with a Rider, she was usually sleeping with one, and the gods knew she had had billets far more rough than an inn room with a half dozen soldiers. But the woman’s haughty tone infuriated her. To be three weeks on the road, tired to the bone, and have to contend with the insults of innkeepers! Her temper rose.
“I am advisor to the crown,” she said, her voice edged with ice and anger. “I require my own chamber and a bath and a certain level of courtesy, if you please.”
The woman replied, “I can send for the bathwater, but I’m afraid courtesy is out of the question.”
For a second, Senneth was too astonished to speak, but Cammon’s choking fit of laughter clued her in. “Kirra, you wretched girl!” she exclaimed. “How many times will I fall for your—oh, you’re impossible!” But she was laughing, too. First she gave Kirra a hard shove on the shoulder, and then she drew her into a quick embrace. When she pulled back, Kirra was herself, all tumbling gold hair and mischievous blue eyes.
“It’s too hard to do that when Cammon’s in the room,” Kirra said, fanning herself with her hand as if overheated from effort. “I can’t even look at him because he’s trying so hard not to laugh.”
Cammon hugged her in turn. “Where’s Donnal?” he asked.
“I have no idea. I assume he was waiting for Tayse and Justin down near the field where they were going to put the soldiers. He was in the shape of a black dog last time I saw him, but Tayse and Justin will probably recognize him sooner than my closest friend recognized me.”
“I’m your closest friend?” Senneth said incredulously, though she knew it to be true. “Imagine how well you treat the people you dislike.”
“I don’t bother dealing with those people at all.”
“So is there a room for me?” Senneth asked. “How do you come to be escorting us around the inn, anyway? Did you take a job here? Are you low on funds?”
It was a joke, of course; as serramarra of Danalustrous, Kirra could never want for money. Of course, Senneth was a serramarra of Brassenthwaite and there had been plenty of times when she’d been penniless; but Kirra had always had a far better relationship with her family than Senneth had had with hers.
“No, I just skulked around the inn all day, waiting for your arrival, so I knew where your rooms were. Cammon let me know you were coming here, of course,” she added.
“Of course.”
“And the innkeeper’s wife had conveniently stepped out to run an errand when I saw you pull up. I couldn’t resist taking on her appearance.”
“I hope she’s nicer than you were,” Senneth said.
“She does seem to be,” Kirra said, moving uninvited toward the great bed, and curling up on top of the coverlet. “So tell me about your trip! Any adventures so far?”
Cammon, never a stickler for propriety, sprawled next to her. Senneth gave up any attempt at decorum and climbed up beside them. Feather mattress, or maybe two; she hoped her own bed was as soft.
“None to speak of,” Cammon answered. “If you mean sword fights and people trying to kill us.”
“Yes, that’s what I mean,” Kirra said. “Like our usual trips.”
“Well, I hear there are brigands on the roads near the southern Houses, but none of them have been misguided enough to assault us,” Senneth said. “Did you see? We have nine Riders and seventy soldiers in our party! Enough to go to war, practically.”
Kirra grinned. “Will Nate feel threatened when you arrive at Gissel Plain with so many soldiers at your back?”
“Tayse thinks he’ll feel honored instead by all the pomp.”
Kirra lolled back on the bed. “I haven’t seen Nate since his wedding,” Kirra said. “I can’t suppose he’s improved much.”
Senneth bit back a laugh. “He’s Nate, as always,” she said. “Very proper and pompous and strict. But he does seem—maybe the right word is gentler. Happier, anyway. To think he loved Sabina all those years while she was married to Halchon.” She shook her head. “To think she loved him all that time. That’s what’s so surprising.”
“Still, love doesn’t make all your problems disappear, and they can’t have had an easy time of it,” Kirra said. “Taking over Gisseltess after the war! The people who supported Halchon would despise both Nate and Sabina, and the people who hated Halchon would be demanding wholesale reforms, I imagine. These must have been two very rocky years.”
“Better than you’d expect,” Cammon said. “I think the very things Senneth hates about him are the things that have made Nate a good administrator in such hard times. He has a passion for rules and order, and Gisseltess has benefited from both.”
Kirra stared at him, then turned her eyes to Senneth. “Was that Cammon talking?” she demanded. “About political strategy?”
“Yes, our little vagabond has become quite the savvy king,” Senneth said.
“I’m not the king.”
“It’s like having one of my father’s dogs sit up and start explaining higher mathematics to me,” Kirra said. “I can’t quite take it in.”
“It’s easier when you see him every day,” Senneth said. “But not much.”
“I haven’t really changed,” Cammon said.
Kirra patted his head as affectionately as she would have if he really were one of her father’s hounds. “Speaking as someone who remakes herself hour by hour and day by day,” she said, “change is not such a terrible thing.”
There was a knock on the door, then Justin pushed it open before Cammon could issue an invitation to enter. “Look who we found down in the stables!” Justin said, striding into the room behind a sleek black dog. Tayse stepped in last. “I figure it has to be Donnal, because he followed us all over town as we were getting the soldiers settled. Wasn’t even tempted by a strip of jerky that one of the guards offered him.”