Maurynna stood watching from the side, arms folded.
Leet finally found his voice. He took a deep breath and drew himself up. “You lying little—” Then, to Lord Asiah, “My lord, what place does this gutter trash have—”
“My cousin is not ‘gutter trash,’ Leet,” Maurynna said coldly. “I have heard her story and it is one that this court needs to hear, my lord Justice.”
Linden stood as if turned to stone as Kella’s words sank in. So that was the answer! He took a quick look at the “shoulder” of Leet’s harp. Yes, it was the one he’d seen before. And he would wager good money that his guess was right.
But what had she been doing in Leet’s room? asked a confused voice in the back of his mind. He’d find out soon enough, he suspected.
“My lord Justice,” he said, “with your permission, I would like to ask my kinswoman Kella a question.”
Asiah frowned at him but nodded. “Very well, Dragonlord,” he said reluctantly.
Linden knelt so that he looked Kella in the eye. “I need you to be certain, Kitten, whether or not this is the same harp. Did you notice a design wood-burned into the one you played? You did? Good. I don’t think you can see it from here, but the one on the harp Bard Leet is holding is a seagull in a circle of bluebells.”
Kella shook her head. “There was a seagull, and a circle of flowers, but they weren’t bluebells, Linden. I know what bluebells look like because they grow under the apple tree in the yard. The flowers on the harp I played were something like the morning glories on the wattle fence around the yard but they had deep ruffles on the edges.”
Just like flowers he had so recently seen scattered in a haunted glade.…
Leet made a small, strangled sound.
Linden, still kneeling by Kella, spoke so that his words carried through the room. “And while there is no color in a woodburning, I would ask you, my lords and ladies, to imagine this ruffled ‘morning glory–like’ flower in a deep, deep red. Can anyone identify this plant for me?”
A puzzled silence filled the room; then Conor said tightly, “King’s Blood. That can only be King’s Blood.”
Lord Asiah turned to Leet. “Bard, I now ask you to step down from the witness’s chair.” He paused, then added, “But you are not to leave this room.”
Once again the Justice called for servants to go to Bard Leet’s room. But this time they had orders to search it down to the walls and floorboards.
Lord Asiah looked long and hard at Kella. Then he said, “Kella Vanadin, I call you to the witness’s chair.”
* * *
Kella was long done with her story when the servants, headed this time by Steward Lewell, came back to the room.
“And?” Lord Asiah asked.
“Nothing, my lord Justice,” Steward Lewell said. “There was no other harp.”
Leet stood up. “So much for your wild tale, Your Grace. Now—I would have all here witness that I claim wergild from Dragonlord Linden Rathan for his lies against me.”
Linden gritted his teeth. “I’m not done yet, Leet. There is one more thing this court needs to see.” In mindspeech, he said, Now.
Leet rolled his eyes. “More disappearing evidence, Your Grace?” he asked as the door opened and shut again. With an exaggerated sigh, he turned to look along with everyone else.
Two of the castle guards came in, carrying a box by handles formed from the ropes binding it.
“No!” Leet screamed. “No! How did you—” He clutched his chest and collapsed.
“Guards—set that thing down and take this man to Healer Tasha immediately!” Lord Asiah ordered. “Remain there to keep watch. No one but Healer Tasha or her assistants are allowed to enter—or leave.”
When the ashen-faced Leet was borne away, Linden carried the box the rest of the way to the front of the room. He set it on the table and called Lord Asiah and Otter to him. “I don’t know where the harp Kella played is, my lord Justice,” he said grimly as he untied the knots and opened the lid, “but in this box—”
Kella screamed. “Rynna, Rynna—it’s there! I don’t want to see it! Please!”
Linden slammed the lid shut again. Damn it all—what had he been thinking? He’d heard Kella’s story. “There’s no harp there, Kella. Truly. My word as a Dragonlord on it. Is it better now? Can you still feel it?”
“Just a tiny bit now,” Kella quavered bravely. Then in a tearful rush, “But I still want to get away from it!”
“Lord Asiah,” Maurynna said, “do you still need Kella here to testify? I will see that she remains on the castle grounds. If you need her again, Linden, Shima, or Lleld can reach me.”
Lord Asiah nodded; Maurynna scooped up Kella and hurried from the room. After the door shut behind them, Lord Asiah wiped his forehead. “By all the gods, never have I seen such commotion in my courtroom. And if the gods are good, I never will again! Now what in the name of those same gods do you have here, Linden Rathan?”
“Otter, suppose you tell Lord Asiah?” Linden said.
The bard leaned over to look. “Hunh—looks like soundboards for a harp. But why in Auvrian’s name are they in a lined box like this? It’s not as if they were powerful amulets or a mage’s tools to need rowan and silk.”
Before Linden could stop him, Otter picked up a piece and turned it this way and that. “No, no amulet here. It’s just a piece of spruce for—” The color drained from his face. He flung the wood down with an oath and fell back, cradling his hand against his chest. “That’s from Gull’s witch spruce, isn’t it?” he asked, his voice shaking. “Dear gods, how could Leet have had a harp made with such as this? You can feel the darkness in them!”
Lord Portis rose. “Have I your leave to speak, Lord Justice? Thank you. I don’t believe these pieces of wood are haunted. As you yourself said, Bard Otter, ‘It’s just a piece of spruce.’ Nor do I believe there’s a haunted harp. All here know that this murderer is kin to you. Of course you’ll say anything to save his neck from the rope.”
Otter stood tall, though he still clutched his hand to his chest as if it hurt him. “My word as a bard on it, my lord. This wood is tainted with great evil.”
“Prove it, then. You’re a bard like Leet. Use them to make me do something,” Portis demanded. Then, when Otter didn’t speak, he taunted softly, “You can’t, can you?”
“No,” Otter said. “Because like this they can’t sing.”
“‘Sing’? Oh, please, bard. This is nothing but moonshine.”
“Was Leet’s reaction when he saw the box ‘moonshine’?” Linden countered.
Portis shrugged. “Perhaps the man is as mad as you seem to hope the rest of us are. Once more I say: prove it. And once more I say: you can’t.”
* * *
Maurynna walked down the hall, Kella by her side. She wasn’t certain where to go, but anywhere away from the courtroom was fine with her. She turned at the sound of hurried footsteps.
It was Prince Rann, Bard Daera, and Raven’s friend Arisyn. “Kella, wait!” Rann called. Kella ran back to him. The children hugged.
“You were so brave, Kella!” Rann said. “Both today and when … um, the other time. We were all watching from up in the balcony. But why didn’t you tell me what happened?” he scolded. “I’d have told Uncle Beren to make Leet and his haunted harp leave.”
“The haunted harp that nobody but us believes in,” Arisyn said glumly.
Kella started to say something, then stopped. An odd look came over her face; half puzzlement, half … fear.
Alarmed, Maurynna said, “Sweetling? Are you well? What’s wrong?”
Fear turned to excitement. Kella turned in a slow circle. Suddenly she stopped and went back half a step. “There!” she said triumphantly, and pointed.
“There what?” Maurynna asked, thoroughly confused now.
“Rynna, do you remember me saying I could still feel the harp calling me, but that it was far away? When the guards brought the box into the room, it didn’t feel
any stronger until Linden opened the box. Then it was awful. It went away again when he shut it, to just that little tugging. But it’s getting stronger now!”
Maurynna stared down at her cousin. “You’re feeling the other harp and not the—the whatever was in the box, aren’t you, Kella? It’s out there.…” She closed her eyes, murmuring softly, “If we could find it, then Raven is saved.…” Hope leapt up in her heart; the first real hope she’d let herself feel in far too long.
She knelt and looked deep into her cousin’s eyes. “Kella, I know how frightened you are of this thing, but you’re the only one who can find it. You’re the only one who can save Raven.”
Kella nodded, her face pale. “I want to help Raven,” she said in a tiny voice. “But I’m so afraid of it, Rynna.…”
“I’ll hold your hand,” Rann offered. He caught her hand and smiled at her.
“And I’ll hold the other,” Maurynna said. “You won’t have to touch it, sweetling. Just find it for me.”
Soon their strange little parade was jogging through the castle and out a door to the gardens.
* * *
The Justice of Balyaranna looked from one man to the other. “We seem to have reached a stalemate, my lords. But I, for one, am curious. My lord Portis, please take your seat again. Dragonlord, if you would take the witness’s chair, I am curious as to all that led you to these ‘pieces of spruce’ and where you found them.”
Truth be told, Linden was glad enough to sit down. “It began, my lord Justice, before my soultwin, Lleld and her soultwin, Jekkanadar, Otter, Raven, and I left for Jehanglan. One day we came upon Bard Leet in the library at Dragonskeep. He had, it seemed, rather odd tastes in reading.…”
* * *
“I’ve never been here before,” Rann said, looking around. He pulled Kella to a halt. “This is the oldest part of the gardens. There are … there are stories about it.”
Kella squeaked in fright. Maurynna started to ask “What stories?” but thought better of it. “Another time, Rann,” she said firmly.
“Yes, please, Your Highness,” Arisyn said. To Maurynna’s surprise, he reached out and snapped a branch on a bush, then propped it carefully against another. “One scary thing at a time if you would.”
“I’ve heard those stories. There is nothing here that will hurt us,” Daera said with quiet certainty.
Kella looked over her shoulder and searched the bard’s face.
Daera smiled down at her. “I’m not just saying that, Kella. It’s true.”
A sharp nod, then Kella tugged Maurynna and Rann along again.
The small band went deeper into the garden. Though it was not neglected enough to be called “wild,” Maurynna thought that the gardeners spent as little time here as possible. Yet the feeling of the place was not hostile or frightening; rather, a gentle melancholy pervaded the atmosphere, a kind of wistful sadness.
At last Kella led them to an arched “tunnel” of the roses that the Cassorins loved so well. It was the longest one Maurynna had ever seen; she peered down its length. There seemed to be an open area behind it and what appeared be a building of some sort beyond. And what was that stench? It smelled like something had died here. Then she realized that she’d caught similar whiffs from time to time as they’d walked through the gardens; she just hadn’t paid attention at the time. At least it didn’t seem to bother any of the truehumans.
“It’s there,” Kella said flatly, shaking like an aspen leaf. She pointed into the tunnel. “Somewhere in there. And I’m not going any closer!”
Maurynna nodded. “I won’t ask you to, sweetling. You’ve done wonders already, Kella. I don’t know if I could have been as brave. The rest of you can go back—”
“Raven’s my friend,” Arisyn said in a do-not-argue tone. “I’m going with you, Dragonlord.”
“Very well. Daera, please take Rann and Kella back to Rann’s rooms. I want Kella as far away from this thing as possible.”
Daera hesitated. “I’m not certain I can find my way back, Dragonlord. We came through parts of the garden that I’ve never seen before and it all might as well be a maze with those tall hedges.”
“Just look for the dangling branches,” Arisyn said. “If there wasn’t anything unusual there, every time we came to a choice of ways, I broke one and pointed it back the way we had come from. When you reach the apple tree ‘house,’ go down the path marked by the white rosebushes. At the rabbit fountain, go north. Oh—and when you get to the topiary bear, take the path that his right paw points to.”
Maurynna clapped him on the shoulder. “Smart lad!” she said with a grin. “Now—off with you.”
Daera led the children away at a trot. About a quarter of a candlemark or so later, Maurynna decided they’d given the others enough of a head start. “Let’s get this over with.” She led the way inside.
The tunnel closed over them and the scent of roses wrapped around them as they walked on and on. Save for the muffled sound of their own footsteps, the silence was absolute. No bird sang, no insect chirped. It seemed forever before they reached the glade at the end.
By some chance or a brave gardener—or magic—it was not overgrown with weeds. The lawn was of chamomile; it led up to the ruins of a large building of quarried stone, its empty windows staring blindly at them. A gaping archway led into its shadowed depths.
The smell was worse here. Maurynna breathed through her mouth as much as possible.
“Who would put a building here?” Arisyn wondered. “And what died here?” He wrinkled his nose.
So it was strong enough for a truehuman to smell now, too. That mystery would have to wait for another time. She stared at the building; something about it was familiar.…
“It’s a folly!” Maurynna said. “One of my great-great-something-grandfathers built one on our country estate in Thalnia. He liked to go there and work on his book.” She pointed to the dark opening. “I’ll wager anything that’s where we go.”
At the edge of the entrance Maurynna paused and sent several globes of coldfire ahead to light their way into the grotto. Dead leaves crunched under their boots as they walked. The sound bounced back from the walls, running ahead of them. Then, in an echo of the tunnel of roses outside, this tunnel opened into a room of stone.
And on a table made from one of the massive rectangular blocks that formed the walls lay a pale box of a shape that Maurynna easily recognized. How many times as a girl in Thalnia had she seen Otter take such a box down from the wagon that had brought him from the docks to Raven’s house? Then she had danced with excitement at the sight. Now her skin crawled; she could feel the dark magic within calling to her own magic. It was like the dull throb of a toothache. But at least a toothache doesn’t make you feel … unclean.
“You took an oath, Leet,” she said softly. “One of the most sacred oaths in the Five Kingdoms and you chose to break it. I’ll see you given to Iryniel the Punisher yet, you bastard.”
Sixty-eight
When he got back to their chamber, Linden was surprised that neither Maurynna nor Kella was there. He considered mindcalling his soultwin, but if she was comforting Kella, he didn’t want to disturb her.
He called for wine and left Otter, Lleld, Shima, and Conor in the outer room. Raven was back in his tower cell, true, but at least Linden had the satisfaction of knowing that Leet was under guard as well.
Once in the sleeping chamber, he stripped, heatspelled the water in the stone basin, and washed off the worst of the dirt and grime. Oh, for a proper bath and a good, long soak.… As he dressed once more, he felt Maurynna touch his mind. Moments later he burst into the small sitting room. Surprised faces turned to him.
“Maurynna’s found the haunted harp,” he announced grimly.
* * *
It seemed to take forever and a day before the door opened. To Linden’s surprise, it was Sevrynel’s foster son, Arisyn, who carried the traveling case. Maurynna followed him, pale and sweating.
“I cou
ldn’t carry it anymore,” she said. “For some reason I could feel it even through the rowan. It wasn’t like that with the soundboards. Those I couldn’t feel at all, just a little when you opened the box. But this—this is horrible.”
Arisyn set the case down on the hastily cleared table. “While I can’t feel a thing from it,” he said cheerfully. “And I think I’m quite glad, too.”
They circled the table, staring down at the wooden harp case that lay there, its rowan boards pale against the dark chestnut table.
“I can feel it,” Lleld whispered.
“As can I,” Shima said.
“And I,” Linden said thoughtfully. “But Arisyn can’t. But why … Wait. Arisyn—can you sing?”
“Not a note, Your Grace.”
“Neither can I,” Maurynna pointed out.
“I know,” Linden said dryly. “But you can feel it nevertheless. It must be calling to our Dragonlord magic.” He glanced at Conor; the Beast Healer shook his head.
Otter said slowly, “Are you certain you can feel something from this, boyo? Because I can sing and yet I don’t feel anything from it.”
“Truly? Odd, I would have thought … Ah well—I suppose we might as well get this over with.” Linden opened the box and set the harp onto the table, touching it as lightly as possible. “Hmm—no silk lining to this box. Maybe that’s why it ‘leaks.’”
It was a beautiful thing, he thought, just like the harp Leet had played the night before the Queen’s Chase. As far as he could tell, the two were identical save for—yes, Kella had been right. The flowers around the seagull on this harp were not bluebells. He stared at the circlet of King’s Blood and shook his head. “Save for the flowers, it might be the same harp we heard at the encampment.”
“By Auvrian!” Otter said suddenly, bending closer to study the harp. “That’s ash! He had harps made with ash wood?”
“What’s wrong with that?” Shima asked. “It sounded very nice when he played it.”
Bard's Oath (Dragonlord) Page 52