by Andre Norton
"I am grateful, Your Majesty." Marcala dabbed at her eyes with a finely embroidered handkerchief.
"Now, turn your mind to matters more useful to me. This man who was captured with… with Ashen." The Queen stumbled over the half-breed wench's name. Well, she might as well get used to saying it, at least for the present. 'Tell me about him."
"Oh, he is nobody of consequence," Marcala said with a shrug. "He says he is a
Sea-Rover. He also claims to be the son of the leader, but he is probably lying about that."
"Perhaps. Perhaps not. Is his life in danger?"
"No. Harous has been as careful with him as he is about Ashen. Both receive the tenderest of attention."
"Then the man has nothing to fear as far as his life is concerned. Thus he has little reason to lie. Let us suppose that this stranger—what did you say his name is?"
"Obern."
"Let us suppose that this Obern is who he says he is, and that the girl saved his life. We have her, and we have him—at least Harous does, and I don't think he will test his loyalty to the Crown by defying us if we decide we have other plans for them. Not if we are careful about it. I will have to make it a matter for the Council, I think. Even Harous would not defy them."
"Do you think not?"
Ysa gazed upon her Queen of Spies with great fondness, not the least element of which was the total reliance on her that Marcala was now exhibiting. Heretofore,
Marcala had been just a shade too independent, too much her own person. Now she depended upon Ysa, and that the Queen found very gratifying. And Marcala had handed her another tool to use at her discretion. Now she would have to decide what use to make of this Obern.
"I know so," Ysa said with confidence. "In fact—Will you be missed at Cragden
Keep for another hour or so?"
"No. Harous is out with one of the patrols, and Ashen will be occupied most of the day with music lessons."
The Queen nearly strangled with hidden laughter over the thought of this uncouth creature strumming a lute, or, by the Wraith of Kambar, dancing! But she kept herself under control. "Good. I will summon Royance and you will tell him what you have told me. Also, you will answer any questions that he has for you. Then we will decide what we shall do."
While the women awaited the arrival of the head of the Council, Marcala took the opportunity to attend to her appearance, wiping away all traces of tears. Ysa noted that her vanity still dictated that she appear as attractive as possible to men, regardless of her feelings for Harous.
As Marcala related her story to Royance, his silvery eyebrows rose higher and higher until it seemed they might almost disappear into his hairline.
"This is very tangled news indeed," he said when Marcala had finished. "And you are sure of all this?"
"When I was not occupied in my role of tutor, I had free time on my hands. There are certain books and records that Lord Harous has hidden away in a room deep in one of the towers, and out of curiosity, I have looked at them. He has places marked that are of special interest. One is the complete genealogy of the House of Ash, showing the line of Kings. Another concerns the signs and symbols of all the great Houses, along with their mottoes and their devices, and a history of all four. Our gracious Queen—" she bowed her head to Ysa "—is in it, as well as our King, dating from the time when they were both mere babes. The Prince is not mentioned, of course, for his birth was past the time of this book."
"Interesting, but not of consequence concerning this girl's identity. Her name is Ashen, but that proves nothing. Did you not say she was reared by Zazar, in the Bale-Bog? There have long been strange rumors about that one. Her interest could be no more than some kind of japery."
"One might think so, if it were not for the girl's appearance," Marcala said.
"In these records there are several miniatures bearing likeness to Ash women.
The resemblance in this girl's features and coloring is striking. It is plain that she is, indeed, a descendant of the House of Ash."
Royance turned to Ysa. "The probable time of her birth coincides with the departure of a certain other Ash woman, Your Majesty. I'm certain you remember the incident."
"I do," the Queen said, through gritted teeth.
"It was thought at the time that Ash had destroyed Ash. The reports made much of
Ash arrows found, and there had been much internal strife in the House. The man who brought back the news was Lord Lackel of the House Troops of Her Gracious
Ladyship the Queen, as I recall. Is that not correct?"
"Yes. I sent him because of that very rumor of great conflict between one branch of the House and another. As you know, it is only prudent to stop such before it can erupt into open civil war—though, as it turned out, it was too late."
"I have always wondered. What would you have done had Lackel found the Lady
Alditha before her own kindred did?"
Ysa was prepared for this question, having quickly seen the direction Royance's inquiry was heading. "My Lord the King was concerned about Lady Alditha's safety. And so, as his loyal wife, was I."
"Even though the rumor was that Lady Alditha carried Boroth's child?"
Ysa shrugged with what she hoped was a believable carelessness. She was finding it gratifying to say openly what she had deduced some time ago. "Rumors are not facts, my lord. I believe that the circumstances of Lady Alditha's death at the hands of her own kindred pointed rather to something darker—a forbidden entanglement with someone of her own Family. Or perhaps she had formed a connection with a servant or someone else equally baseborn. However, upon pondering the problem, I now think it most likely to have been one of those debaucheries a few of our people sometimes embark on, when, it is rumored, they go to the Bog seeking pleasure. After all, it was to the Bog she was returning and, I think, to her lover. I believe the new Ash heiress is nothing but a half-breed, and it was for this reason that the Lady Al-ditha was killed."
The Queen's statement filled the chamber with a presence that was almost palpable. Royance grimaced with distaste. "Let it not be so, Your Majesty."
The Queen waved her hand, and then clasped both in such a way that the Rings were visible. "After so many years, does it even matter? There is a wench, and she seems to be of Ash blood. At least half, that is. This is all that is certain."
"Then you deny that she is of Boroth's getting?"
Ysa knew that her next words must be carefully chosen. "I must, my lord. Boroth may have had an eye for other women, but he was not stupid. To have formed a tender alliance with such a highborn lady, especially after having married me, would have been asking for open insurrection. If you count back, this girl must have been born when the King and I were but newly married, a year or less. In fact, I must have been quick with Florian at that time. The King was very solicitous of me, for I carried his heir. Does it make sense that a newly wedded husband, with his wife carrying his child, would have been engaged in such a dalliance? No, my lord, I submit that it does not. I say that the wench's sire was a Bog-man. How else could she have survived where Outlanders are killed on sight?"
She sat back, looking closely at Royance to judge the effect her words had had on him.
He sighed. "I must admit that what Your Majesty says does make sense. But I think also that there is still more to be learned before the matter can be closed."
"It is of no consequence, if you are concerned about the possibility of another heir besides Florian. Even if this girl, Ashen, had been sired by my husband—which I deny—she could never be anything more than a royal bastard. But, as I said, I do reject such a heritage." Then she brought out what she hoped was her strongest argument, one she had been saving for this moment. "If she were of
Boroth's getting, why would Zazar not have brought her forward long before now?"
"That is a question for which I have no answer," Royance said. "Let me do some thinking on this matter in private." He turned to Marcala. "In the meantime, be not afraid, my
dear. It is plain to me that you are the best match for Harous.
If this girl is not a royal bastard, then her uncertain heritage does not qualify her for marriage to such a high noble as Harous, and I will press my influence on the Council toward this decision. If this girl is a royal bastard, then her blood makes her too important for any of our peerage to marry—with the exception of Florian, and this is also forbidden, for they would be half- brother and half-sister. And I will so say to the Council if this proves to be the case."
The Queen rose, signaling that the audience was concluded. "I knew I could rely on your wisdom and experience, my lord," she said, offering her fingers for
Royance to kiss. "I know that both the Lady Marcala and I are very much relieved to know that the matter is now out of our hands and into yours."
He bowed himself out, and Ysa and Marcala looked at each other for a long moment.
"Well," Marcala said at last. "That is something new.
I hadn't thought about the possibility of Ashen being Bor-oth's child."
"Nor should you think on it further," Ysa said firmly. "The matter is closed.
Ashen's mother was a whore. It doesn't matter who it was, among many. Now, get you back to Cragden Keep. And do not mention any of this to Harous."
Marcala raised one eyebrow. "Naturally not. He is always the one who likes to be the first to know everything. I will enjoy it when he discovers that this time at least, he is not."
Then she, too, took her leave of the Queen. Ysa paced back and forth in her chamber, too restless to sit and think quietly. Her worst fears seemed on the verge of coming true. Despite what she had told Royance, she knew that it would be easy to claim that this girl, Ashen, was Bor-oth's daughter and, further, to put forth the case that she was more fit for the succession than Florian. There were those who might find that such an offspring—bastard as she was—could be even superior. After all, she had been born before the Prince was, and even though not legitimate, she would then be able to claim royal blood from both sides, as Florian could not. Also, she was the undoubted heiress of the
Ashenhold, if she wanted to pursue matters.
Dangerous, dangerous. And despite the danger the girl presented, she was too dangerous to remove. Ysa put her hands to her temples, where a throbbing ache threatened to make her physically ill. Why hadn't she done something about this upstart earlier? Why had the Bog-men begun raiding into Rendel territory now, of all times? It was only this distraction that had prevented her from turning her attention to this awkward situation.
She touched the Rings for comfort. "Oak, Yew, Ash, and Rowan," she murmured.
"Help me now."
Royance came away from his interview with the Queen and Lady Marcala a sorely troubled man. He could not shake the feeling that Ysa had not been entirely open and candid with him. He went to his town house and sent messengers out to call various people in for interviews.
When Lackel had been brought into his presence, he questioned him sharply. The one-time leader of the Queen's House Troops, now retired because of an injury, retained much of his old loyalty. Nevertheless, he related the story of that dreadful, stormy night when he had found Ash warriors lying stark with Ash arrows still quivering in them, and of how he had sighted the boat out in the murk, and the body that had slipped into the water and disappeared.
"I thought that was the one we were seeking, my lord," he told Royance. "And so
I reported it."
"You did well, Lackel, and no shame to you. Thank you."
Others of those who had been in Lackel's company, when brought into Royance's presence, told much the same story. So much was certain, and no more.
Royance decided to pay a visit to Harous. As soon as one of his men brought word that the lord of Cragden Keep had returned from patrol, he made the short journey and was admitted into Harous's inner chamber at once.
"I would like to meet your guest," Royance said after the courtesies had been satisfied. "Lady Marcala has told me much about her. Also, the Queen is interested."
"She is at her studies just now. But I can arrange a meeting with her later."
"Is it true that you took her out of the Bog?"
"Yes. As you know, I am interested in many things, and when I heard about a young girl who is not of the Bog, yet living there, I knew I had to solve this riddle. And so I became acquainted with Zazar, of whom I think you have heard."
"Yes, the Wysen-wyf. Almost everyone in all of Rendel has heard of her."
"And, I daresay, employed her services. Well, I went to see Zazar, and during the course of other business, I caught a glimpse of this very girl who was the subject of the rumor." Absently, Harous fingered a pendant he brought out of his doublet. "Later, I would have gone back for her, but Zazar had hidden her. I had quite a time of it, finding the hiding place. But I did, and I brought her back here, to where she belongs."
"I see," Royance said. "And what are your plans for her now?"
"First, we must be certain of who she is. That she is of the House of Ash seems certain; the stamp of it is all over her. But who her parents were is less sure.
I believe her mother to have been the Lady Alditha, who perished under mysterious circumstances."
"I am aware of those circumstances. And her father?"
"As yet unknown."
"A Bog-man?"
"Definitely not."
Royance sat thinking for a moment. "Would you agree to let the Council question this girl?"
"If you request it, then so shall it be done."
"It could be that she holds more in her memory than we yet know." Royance got to his feet. 'The King is close to death. You should temporarily move to your town house, for it would be most unseemly if you were absent when it comes time to proclaim Florian as our King."
Harous made a grimace of distaste.
"Aye, I know. He is… well, it seems obvious that the Council will be greatly needed in days to come. Let another take up your duties on patrol. Your presence is more necessary in Rendelsham."
"As you command, Lord Royance," Harous said. He bowed in acknowledgment. "I can suggest two days hence. A banquet, at my town house? With the members of the
Council and Lady Ashen in attendance?"
"That will be very satisfactory."
Royance was not the only one to come away from the meeting in Ysa's chamber with a great deal to think upon. Marcala closed herself in the innermost chamber of her quarters, where she would not be disturbed. She held a vital piece of information, hers alone at least for a while, for she knew positively that Ashen was no half-breed Bog-runner. Given that, the possibility that she had been sired by Boroth became much stronger even if only because the Queen denied it so vehemently.
Royance was bound to come and see for himself. Then it would be just a matter of time before he arranged to have that wretched girl brought before the King.
These were facts about which Marcala could do nothing.
And she also knew that Harous knew—or had strong suspicions—about Ashen's true parentage. As ambitious as he had always been, no wonder he aspired to this colorless little chit! A close tie to the throne or, failing that, gaining her heritage of the Ash- lands—either way, it would make him the richest noble in the land, rivaling even the King.
Because Marcala believed in knowing her employers, she was well aware that Ysa had always been prone to a certain amount of self- deception. But this—this was on an unprecedented scale! How to turn this to her own advantage? She didn't know yet, but she would find a way.
In the meantime, she must concentrate on blocking Harous's plans. They were sheer folly, and would most certainly end in Harous's death as punishment for his presumption. That she could not endure. But as long as Ashen remained unwed, she would be a target for any other noble with similar ambitions.
"I cannot do anything until Ashen goes to court and is presented to the Queen,"
Marcala said to herself. But then—ah, then! Ashen must be
married, and promptly, to anyone who was not Harous and who did not present such a threat that he would be eliminated by a rival. But who could it be?
Someone with whom such an alliance would be considered an asset, she answered herself, pleased that she was thinking clearly once more. She had heard rumors of a few tentative attempts at a treaty with the Sea-Rovers, who had taken over the old Ashenkeep. Then the answer came to her in such a burst of clarity that she sat back, astonished.
Obern!
The more she thought about it, the more perfect the scheme became in her mind.