by Fran Jacobs
"All right," the bard said, still wearing that look of total discomfort.
I left Teveriel sitting by the fire as I hurried into my bedroom to get changed. I dried off quickly before scrambling into my clothes. I didn't want to be alone, not even in my well-lit bedroom, so with my hair still wet, and sticking against my dark shirt, and my boots and stockings in my hand, I headed back into the other room. Teveriel looked up at me as I re-entered. He still wore the same uncomfortable expression, but now he was also rubbing at his right wrist with his fingers. I gave him a curious look and he flushed, snatching his hand away.
"They're just sore," he said, by way of explanation. "From playing too much."
"Oh." I nodded in understanding and sat down. "So, what can I do for you?"
"I've been asked to play at the ball in your honour," he said slowly. "And I wanted to make sure that it wouldn't make you feel too uncomfortable having me there."
"No," I said, with a smile. "No, it doesn't bother me. In fact, I would be rather interested to hear you play. Aylara tells me that you're very good."
"I like to think so," he said, with a grin that reminded me of the Teveriel I had caught a glimpse of on our first meeting, the one beneath all the nervous misery. "I'm just glad that I've been given this chance, that what I did hasn't been held against me."
"Well," I said, "no one knows what you did. I promised that I wouldn't tell anyone and I haven't."
"I know," he said. "You have a reputation for being a man of your word, but Mayrila ..." He trailed off, his fingers rubbing his wrist again. "Let's just say I feel more comfortable now, knowing that she's left Court."
"Yes," I agreed, roughly rubbing at my damp hair with a towel. "It's somewhat of a relief to not have to see her face, with my eyes, staring back at me over the table. Still, a part of me wishes that she'd stayed a little longer."
"Why?" Teveriel asked.
"Just so I could ask her some questions, I suppose. I stormed out of her rooms so fast I didn't have a chance to ask her anything. Perhaps if I had, I might have been able to catch her out, prove that she really is lying about the whole thing."
"I doubt that it would have been that easy, Prince Candale," Teveriel said. "And ... and I'm still not sure why you would have wanted to ask her questions. There is no truth in what she said, surely?"
I hesitated before I shrugged. "I ... I don't know," I said. "My grandfather doesn't think so, but ... Kal always said I was a strange boy, that I retell events in a way that hasn't happened and I have been having these strange dreams recently ..."
"A dream is just a dream, Prince Candale," Teveriel said slowly.
"Yes, but this one is so vivid, and the child in it, I saw it before, in my rooms ..." I shivered as an image of the child and its dark eyes rose up in my mind to haunt me. Even in the warm, well-lit room, the thought of those eyes terrified me and broke my body out into a flurry of goosebumps. In my head I could hear that eerie, sing-song voice. "My grandfather doesn't think that there is anything that I should be worrying about, but I'm finding it hard not to. In my dream the child called me the Seer and there was this three-headed dragon ..." I draped the towel over the arm of my chair, got to my feet and disappeared into my bedroom to pick up my seal ring. I didn't wear it anymore, not after I had seen the three-headed dragon picture in Mayrila's book. I also picked up a comb, as I left my bedroom, which I started to run through my damp, tangled curls as I walked. "That looked like this," I said, tossing the ring at Teveriel, who caught it neatly. He held it up to study it properly. "And the child spoke to me of a creature called Ellenessia and drew this strange swirl in the air in front of me." I sat back down in my seat. "Mayrila told me that the dragon stood for the past, present and the future, that he was the sign the Seer would take for himself, as I did, and now I've dreamed about him."
"Could you not have dreamed about him simply because you're worrying about what Mayrila said?" Teveriel asked me in a quiet voice, putting the ring down on the table. "I know that, after I took you back to your rooms that day, my dreams were all filled with images of trials and being sent into exile, or even executed as a traitor, because I was so worried about what I had done."
"Yes," I said thoughtfully. "But ... but it felt so real to me. I was in a cell. I could smell the damp, feel the cold, and, although I can understand why my mind might create the dragon, why would it create the child? Or the strange song that it sang? Or the name Ellenessia? It makes no sense to me. And I'm sure I saw the child before, in my rooms, even though Kal assures me there was no one there. My grandfather thinks I imagined it when I hit my head or that Mayrila created it for me, somehow, so that we would believe her story." I tugged the comb through a stubborn knot. "But I don't know what to think. I ... I asked my tutor to look into this for me. I thought that if I could find out more about this prophet then perhaps I would be able to see if there are any further resemblances between him and me. Then I'll finally be able to stop worrying about every strange dream that I have."
Teveriel nodded. "Then it sounds as though there is nothing else that you can do except wait for your tutor to find something, because I doubt King Sorron would want to bring Mayrila back just to answer a few questions. Especially if he has reason to doubt everything that she has said to you."
"Yes," I said. "I know. You're right." I sighed, dropping my comb onto the table. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be bothering you with any of this."
"No," Teveriel said. "No, I don't mind. It's partly my fault, after all. If I hadn't done what Mayrila had asked, you wouldn't be having these worries now."
"That's very true," I said.
"I'm just surprised that you would want to tell me any of this. I'm just a bard and I haven't even been in Court that long-"
"I don't have anyone else I can talk to about this, Teveriel," I said, interrupting him. "My grandfather told me not to worry about this. I don't want to let him know that I still am, and I can't very well talk to Kal, my sister, or my parents about this."
"No," Teveriel said. "I guess not." Then he gave me a nervous smile. "This isn't really what I expected when I got up this morning, that a prince of Carnia would suddenly trust me with his secrets."
"None of this is what I expected," I replied.
We talked for a little while afterwards, while I finished getting dressed, about life at Court and general gossip and then we left the room together to go down for supper. Teveriel walked me as far as the stairs, before he disappeared to go back to his room to change. I made my way down to the hall alone, singing softly, under my breath, the song from my dream that went around and around in my head.
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* * *
Chapter Seven
MY BALL
My life quickly settled into a comforting routine.
Every other day I trained with Trellany, gaining back my strength at a snail's slow crawl, and every morning I studied with Lykeia and with the other young lords and ladies of Court. In the afternoons I had a couple of hours of private tuition and I spent my free evenings either with Teveriel, or my sister and Kal, playing chess, talking, or just sitting around. I enjoyed spending time with the bard. A proper friendship seemed to have grown quickly out of our strange first meeting and shared secrets and I liked having a friend whom I didn't have to share with my sister, one who knew me and with whom I didn't have to watch what I said all the time. It also felt good to be able to relax, to talk, or gamble, or drink, in a way that I couldn't when my sister was present, or when I was with other young lords and ladies of Court. And Teveriel didn't treat me the way that the sycophantic courtiers did either. Although he was always polite towards me, and used my title, he spoke to me honestly, much the same way that Kal did, and I liked that. He was also a lot of fun to be around. Even though he was only a few years older than me, he had lots of experience and knowledge about things that I knew nothing about and he always had fascinating, witty or enthralling stories to tell that caught my imagination or made me laugh
until I cried. And the more time I spent with him, the more convinced I became that I could trust him, not just with my secrets, but that and that he had been nothing but a pawn, someone Mayrila had used to get at me.
As the days crawled on towards the ball, I had no more dreams of the scary-eyed child. The fear that Mayrila's words had created in me began to fade, but it never left me completely. When I was alone, lying in my bed with nothing to occupy me, those thoughts and fears rose up to torment me. Sorron hadn't found anyone he trusted enough to investigate Mayrila's books and Lykeia hadn't found anything in the library. This lack of proof made me more anxious as the days went by. Neither man was going to give up, they assured me. Sorron promised that he would find someone skilled enough to investigate the books, even if he had to go to the farthest reaches of the kingdom to do so. And Lykeia told me that he would continue to search the library, even if that meant reading every single book there until he was sure there was nothing to be found. But none of this made me feel any more at ease, however. A part of me argued that if Lykeia hadn't found something yet, then perhaps there was nothing to find and Mayrila had been lying to me after all. Another part of me, a stronger part of me, was still worried and afraid. I just couldn't get the images of that boy, in those old, worn and battered books, out of my head. I knew that until Sorron had those books examined, or Lykeia had examined every single book and not found anything, I would not be able to rest easy.
But the ball did much to help distract me.
I was looking forward to it with eager, childish excitement. I always did. I loved balls. I loved to dance, it was the only time I was actually graceful. I liked being able to mingle freely with courtiers, servants and entertainers alike. I enjoyed being free of Gerian's watchful gaze. Even though he would be in the hall, he would barely be able to see me amongst the peacock crowd of gathered courtiers, unlike at meal times where I was just one person away from him, sitting on the other side of my grandfather. I also enjoyed getting dressed up. Although the current fashion was irritating and itchy, with its lace collar and cuffs, and tight fitting breeches and doublets, that was a small price to pay for a ball. Balls were, in my opinion at least, pleasurable experiences, and I thought that everyone else agreed with me, so it surprised me when Lykeia told me that he would not be going.
"I thought that I would spend the time in the library instead," he said, "looking into this Seer business for you. I haven't had as much time as I would have liked, what with your extra tuition and my ordinary classes to prepare for, so I thought that would be the perfect time to get on with it undisturbed. There will be less chance of anyone finding out that I'm looking into this as well, with everyone being at the ball. I've had to be very careful so far, which has slowed my progress down, I will admit. But I didn't think it would take much for Prince Gerian to put together what is going on if he heard that your tutor was looking for books on seers."
"Yes," I said. "That's true, but are you sure that you don't want to go to the ball? It would be a shame to miss out because of me."
"I don't like balls," he told me. "There are too many people. I feel uncomfortable. No, my prince, I will be happier in the library."
"Oh," I said. "All right."
***
On the evening of the ball, I stood in my bedchamber, admiring myself in my new clothes. Black, brocade breeches and a dark green velvet doublet, embroidered with silver swirls around the bottom, and a new black shirt, with lace cuffs. I had a matching long, green velvet coat, fitted tight at my torso, which then flared out above my hips. It was embroidered with the same silver swirls around the cuff, collar and across the hem, and was lined with black satin. The lace of the shirt itched terribly, but other than that, the tailor, Byran, had done a good job. Not only did the clothes suit me and fit perfectly but they also helped to disguise any lingering sign of my illness and gave me the illusion of being slightly less thin than I actually was.
Before my illness I had never had any reason to think about the way I looked, I had just taken it for granted. Other than keeping myself clean-shaved and washed, I hadn't bothered much with it at all. Since my illness, looks had become more important to me. I didn't want any signs of my illness to remain, to show on my face or on my body, and even though my family assured me that it didn't, I was still paranoid about it, afraid that I was now unattractive, ugly. It was Lara who had reassured me the most. She had told me many times that some women liked slim, romantic looking men. It felt a little strange to be reassured of my appeal to women by my sister, but Aylara knew how paranoid I was and she made sure that I knew I had nothing to worry about. And now, as I looked at myself, and turned from side to side, in the mirror, I couldn't help but agree with her. I would never look like Kal or Teveriel, I would never have strong, broad shoulders or a typical manly physique, but I still looked good.
Feeling confident for the first time since I had fallen ill, I turned away from the mirror and made my way down to the hall.
The Rainbow Hall, where the ball was being held, was my favourite of all the halls in the castle, something that my grandfather knew all too well. I suspected that was why he had organised the ball for this room, rather than the much larger Ballroom. It had gotten its name from the small rainbow mosaic tiles on the floor that were arranged into large squares to form a checkerboard pattern with black marble slabs, and the matching mosaic framed arched mirrors, that were mounted on one wall. Two of the other walls were painted white while the fourth was actually a set of glass doors that led out into one of Carnia Castle's five gardens. The hall was light, airy and beautiful and I could think of nowhere better for my ball to be held.
The ball was already underway when I arrived. The dance floor was crowded and the air heavy with the sound of drumming feet and the latest, most popular, tune being played by the minstrels who were seated in the corner. And those who weren't dancing were either gathered around the long tables that were filled with food, both sweet and savoury, as well as wine and ale, or standing around the edges, talking and watching the dancers. Servants circled the room, carrying trays of food and drinks to those who couldn't be bothered to fetch it for themselves.
I saw Trellany through the crowd and she nodded her head in my direction, but she didn't approach me. I spotted my sister, too, looking beautiful in a dark purple, almost plum, coloured dress, with her blond hair piled up on her head, decorated with strands of pearls and amethysts. She wore matching purple slippers and there was a faint trace of powder across her eyes and lips. She looked gorgeous.
Kal was standing alongside her and I could see the pride in his eyes as he held her arm. He looked good, too, in a midnight blue doublet and coat, decorated with fine beadwork that caught and reflected the candlelight, and dark black velvet breeches. His shirt had lace cuffs, like mine, but he also had lace around the neckline, like a white ruffled fountain. That had to be uncomfortable, but he showed no signs of it. He wore rich clothing so much more easily than I did.
Kal caught my eye, as I made my way toward them, and acknowledged me with a nod of his head. "How are you?" he asked me.
"Itchy," I said.
Kal grinned. "You look well, though," he said. "Better than you have looked in a long time."
"I know." I turned around slowly, arms out, to give them a better view, grinning, and Kal nodded, a bright smile on his lips.
"The wolves will gather," Aylara told me, with a twinkle in her eye.
"They always do," I said. "It's the curse of being popular." Aylara just laughed.
"Well," Kal said, now seeming nervous, "I'm glad that you caught us first, before you had a chance to speak to anyone else."
"Oh?"
He glanced at Aylara, who nodded, then he looked back at me. "We've set a date for our betrothal," he said. "And we wanted to be the ones to tell you."
"Oh!" I grinned at him. "Oh, that's good news!"
"It's for the spring," Aylara said. "We had always planned it for then, with the wedding to come the followin
g year, but we didn't want to announce it while you were sick. Now that you're better we've decided to make it official and set a date."
"And I wanted to ask you," Kal added, "if you would be my guarantor at the ceremony. My parents are both dead, I have no siblings or cousins. I want you to speak for me, if you would."
My grin grew. "Of course I will."
A bright, pleased smile crossed Kal's face and he seized my hands. "Thank you, Candale," he said. "There is no one else I would want to stand beside me."
"And I'm honoured to do it. I really am." I glanced around the hall; it was getting hard to see my way clear to the buffet tables amongst all the heavy dresses and bright colours. "I'm going to get myself something to eat and drink, while I still can. Can I get either of you anything?"
"No," Aylara said, as she pressed her slim body against Kal's. "Thank you." Kal didn't even seem to notice that I had asked the question, his attention, once again, was all for my sister.
With a smile, I left them, made my way towards the buffet table, reached for a plate and started to pile it high with fruit-filled pastries and puffs filled with spiced mincemeat. The food at balls was always rich, heavily spiced and so small you needed several platefuls to even stand a chance of filling your belly. Thankfully there was always more than enough to go around and so much variety, too. Small cakes glazed with honey, or filled with fruit; puff pastries with either a spiced meat or sweet filling; twists of roasted lamb stuffed with a mint and sage mixture; glazed pork; mashed turnips and parsnips; sugared biscuits, the choice went on, spread out on dozens of plates across the wooden tables that took up the length of one entire wall of the ballroom. There was plenty of alcohol, too - ale, wine, brandy and spirits from the far reaches of the kingdom, and beyond. There were even several bottles of the Drasan spirit At'tia, which was potent, expensive, and one of my favourites. Sorron must have taken it from his own private store, or had it specially imported for the occasion, which would have cost a pretty penny. But then, there was nothing on the table that wasn't expensive or extravagant, and people were making the most of it. We hadn't seen an affair like this for a long time and I was touched that Sorron had done this all for me.