Fortune and Fate

by Sharon Shinn

  She was utterly silent for a moment, but it was clear he was speaking to her, so she finally replied. “My lord?”

  “Demaray’s conversation. I am aware that you audited the whole.”

  She felt her cheeks heat, but she didn’t think he could see her all that clearly. “Most of it, I think.”

  “What did you make of it?”

  “I think we need to double the guards who accompany Karryn anytime she leaves the compound.”

  “What did you think of her generous offer to keep me company on my darker days?”

  Wen was suddenly furious. He had scarcely spoken to her for days, and now he suddenly wanted her interpretation of his conversation with another woman? “I thought you would be grateful for the opportunity to spend time with a lady who so obviously suits your notions of class and culture. Karryn goes to Lindy’s from time to time, packing an overnight bag. Maybe you should do the same.”

  She was utterly astonished when he threw his head back and laughed. “Yes, I am aware that I deserved that,” he said, still chuckling. “I have behaved very churlishly, I know.”

  She wasn’t entirely certain what churlish meant, and she knew it was ridiculous for him to offer her an apology or for her to expect one. Still, it was what she wanted, and her reply was very stiff. “My lord has no need to explain his behavior to me.”

  “Don’t I?” he said. He was gazing right at her, so perhaps the shadows were not as thick as she had thought, and his expression was thoughtful. “I think I do. I’m sorry I have treated you so badly these past few days, Willa. You mustn’t think it was because of anything you did.”

  “That’s not what I thought,” she said, still coldly.

  He sighed. “Men are strange creatures, and I suppose I am stranger than most,” he said. “I operate so much on the theoretical plane. I do not always understand how my favorite theories and anecdotes translate into reality.”

  If this was an apology, it was one that made no sense. She didn’t bother to answer in the pause he left. He came a step closer and expanded on his explanation.

  “I love the tales of Rintour Fortunalt, but I’m afraid if I ever met him in person I would be disgusted by his rough ways and careless cruelty and probable body odor. I understand the man on the page, but I am not so certain I would understand him in person. I have for so much of my life been a man of abstractions.”

  She kept silent and he came yet another step nearer.

  “In abstract, I understood that you could kill a man. But seeing you demonstrate the ability shook me to my core. There is nothing about you that is abstract at all. And nothing about battle that is poetic or pretty. I have made very few friends who had actual blood on their hands. I have spent the last few days trying to accustom myself to the notion.”

  “Men like you don’t make friends with women like me,” Wen replied in a hard voice. “You don’t have to strain yourself trying to accept what I am.”

  He was now close enough that he could certainly see her face, even in the dimness of the corridor. At any rate, she could see his, familiar, curious, and rueful, wearing a half-smile as he peered down at her. “But we are friends, Willa, and I don’t think either of us should bother trying to deny that. And friends are allowed to make mistakes with each other, and cry pardon, and forge on ahead, realizing that each misapprehension only leads to another level of better understanding. So will you let me say I’m sorry, and forgive me, and let us go back to the way we were before—changed a little, perhaps, but only for the better?”

  It was an extraordinary speech for a lord to make to a person in his employ, but of course that was not the context in which he had delivered his apology. We are friends, Willa, and I don’t think either of us should bother trying to deny that. Wen could not make friends—she could not be trusted to keep them alive—and every muscle of her body clenched against her conflicting desires to run from the building or drop to her knees and offer fealty.

  You have a duty to this man and to this House, she told herself sternly, but even she knew that that was not the reason she was able to convince herself to stay.

  “Of course I forgive you,” she said, but her voice was cool, mostly because otherwise she could not trust it at all. “And I would welcome the chance to spend the evenings with you, as we have in the past—any of the evenings you are not with Demaray Coverroe, that is,” she couldn’t help adding.

  That surprised a laugh from him. “Demaray is a widow who is drawn to any man whom she perceives as powerful,” he said, with more cynicism than he usually displayed. “My own power is reflected, but to her it is tangible enough, and she would like to bask in its source of light as closely as I will let her.”

  Whatever that meant. “Well, you don’t want to disappoint a lady.”

  “No—and I don’t want to disappoint you. Can you come by tonight after dinner? We had a few chapters of Antonin left to read.”

  “You did,” Wen said somewhat rudely. “I finished the book without you last night.”

  That made him burst out laughing again. “Yes, I can see a man must be careful with you, mustn’t he? He must never think you rely on him for anything at all, be it ever so esoteric. But I had thought with literature my hold on you was secure.”

  “You could pick out another book,” she allowed. “I would like that.”

  “Most excellent! Then that is what I will do.” He nodded at her, smiling carelessly. “Then I will expect you tonight at the usual time.”

  BACK in charity with Jasper Paladar, pleased with the progress her soldiers were making, and, for some unfathomable reason, not pushed by internal demons to move on. For a few days, Wen thought her life had finally achieved a balance of calm and purpose.

  Then Ryne Coravann arrived in Forten City.

  Chapter 20

  THEY COULD NOT LEAVE GISSEL PLAIN SOON ENOUGH TO please Senneth. But two nights after the wild dinner at Seton Mayman’s, there was another formal dinner with even more Gisseltess vassals, and, of course, all of them had to be present for that. Senneth was interested to see that Warren was surprisingly well-behaved at that meal. Oh, he glowered at her brother whenever Nate said something particularly idiotic, but he responded to direct questions, he paid a little attention to the conversation, and he didn’t fling himself out of the room after a furious outburst.

  “Is any of that Justin’s doing?” she wondered to Tayse that night as they were getting ready for bed. Well, she was packing clothes; he was lounging on the bed, watching her.

  “Possibly,” he replied. “One of the first things a Rider learns is to control his emotions. Anger can be productive, but it must be harnessed.”

  She carefully folded the blue gown, even though it would be impossibly wrinkled by the time they arrived in Rappengrass. “I’m not sure that’s an improvement,” she remarked. “Having Warren learn how to focus and direct his fury.”

  Tayse propped himself up on the pillows and grinned at her. “Oh, you must not have heard about this afternoon’s conversation.”

  She looked at him with misgiving. “What?”

  “Justin suggested that Cammon invite Warren to visit Ghosenhall—without Sabina and Nate, that is. Come see the city, live in the palace, get some society experience outside of Gissel Plain. Naturally, once he’s installed, he would be invited to come down to the training yard and keep working out with Justin—or any of the Riders who showed an interest.”

  “Bright Mother burn me,” Senneth said, and sat abruptly on the edge of the bed, the blue gown still in her hands. She thought it over. “I actually don’t think I dislike that idea,” she said cautiously. “Amalie and Cammon can be very winning. If he grows to like them, he might become an ally of the crown, instead of the malcontent his father was. I don’t know about continuing his education at Justin’s hands, but the rest of it might serve.”

  “Yes, and Amalie said—”

  Senneth groaned. “Oh, she was present at this conversation, too?”

&nbs
p; “Apparently so. She said she thought it was a wonderful idea, and she might begin inviting all the young serramar and serramarra to Ghosenhall in turn. Kirra said she thought that you would be happy to participate in their social education, drilling them on appropriate topics to introduce at a royal dinner table, for instance. Cammon replied in all seriousness that he thought you would do better to discuss Gillengaria history with them, and maybe talk about the gods and how they relate to magic. At which point,” Tayse finished up, “Kirra couldn’t keep a straight face anymore. So I don’t think he would really expect you to participate in this plan.”

  She lay back on the bed, her feet still on the floor and her head somewhere near the region of his hip, and let the pretty gown fall over her like a coverlet of silk. “How is it possible that my life has come to this?” she demanded. “Playing older sister to the strangest king and queen in the history of the realm? Never did I dream about such a life when I was a girl growing up in Brassenthwaite.”

  He pushed the dress aside and tugged her up so she was lying next to him, face-to-face on the pillows, and he stroked a hand through her flyaway hair. “No, when you were a girl growing up, you were dreaming about marrying a fine, noble lord and raising his fine, noble children—if you could figure out how to conceal from your cruel father how much magic ran in your veins.”

  She sighed. “Actually, from the time I was about twelve years old, I was trying to figure out how to get out of marrying Halchon Gisseltess, since it was clear from about that time that my father planned such a union for me.”

  He leaned in to kiss her on the forehead. “I cannot think that the life you have now is much worse than the one that had been laid out for you. Despite the fact that you have married below your station and you are forced to call the royal consort one of your closest friends.”

  “I suppose it’s not so terrible,” she allowed. “Though I could wish you were a little less respectable than a Queen’s Rider. Marrying you was hardly enough of an affront to my family. I should have held out for a common soldier, I think, or perhaps a thief newly released from prison.”

  He drew her closer. “Even to win your love, I wouldn’t agree to turn criminal,” he said. “You must set me some other impossible task to let me prove my affection.”

  She put her hand on his cheek and smiled against his mouth. “Only one thing occurs to me at the moment,” she said. “But I’ll keep thinking.”

  THEY set out the next day for what would surely be a very slow trip to Rappengrass. The spring weather was damp and gray, so Senneth was happy to keep Cammon company in the coach, where Kirra promptly joined them.

  “So you’re coming with us to Rappen Manor,” Senneth said to her. “And then to Fortune as well?”

  “I plan to leave you at Rappengrass. I never really like going to Fortunalt.”

  “They say it’s better now, with Rayson gone,” Senneth said.

  “Yes, but who runs the place these days?” Kirra said. “Rayson only had the one child and she’s scarcely out of the schoolroom.”

  “Karryn,” Cammon confirmed. “She’s sixteen.”

  “But Rayson had a wife, didn’t he?” Senneth said. “I’m sure I was never introduced to the woman, but I can’t think her life was much happier than Sabina’s.”

  “I met her a number of times, though I can’t recall her name—Serephette! That’s it,” Kirra said. “She was a Fortunalt girl, Thirteenth House. When I was younger, I always thought she acted like a queen. She was tall and regal and haughty. When I was a little older,” Kirra added, “I began to think she was insane. Abrupt and unpredictable and strange as they come.”

  “And she’s raising Rayson’s sixteen-year-old daughter?” Senneth said. “I don’t envy Karryn.”

  “There’s an uncle there, or maybe he’s a second cousin,” Cammon said. “He’s acting as her guardian.”

  “Let’s hope he’s not some lecherous or power-mad old man trying to manipulate her into doing what he wants,” Kirra said cynically.

  “He’s not,” Cammon said.

  “You’ve met him?” Senneth asked.

  “I picked him.”

  Kirra started laughing. “Oh, well, then! I take it all back! He’s gentle and wise and patient and good.”

  “I think so, yes.”

  Senneth said, “Will we meet him in Forten City? I must confess, you’ve piqued my curiosity.”

  “As we plan on staying at Fortune, I believe we will.”

  Senneth glanced at Kirra. “You’ll have to continue on with us now. To meet the paragon.”

  “I really think Donnal and I will head back to Danalustrous after we’ve visited a bit with Ariane. I want to be there if Casserah needs me.”

  “My mother will be delighted to see you again,” Cammon said.

  Kirra looked at him, looked at Senneth, and back at Cammon. “Did you just call Ariane Rappengrass your mother?”

  “He always does,” Senneth said.

  Kirra glanced elaborately around the coach, empty except for the three of them. There were Riders ringed all about the vehicle, of course, but none of them could overhear the quiet conversation inside. “You realize you’re not really her son,” she said.

  He was grinning. “Since we went to a great deal of trouble to convince the Twelve Houses that I am—”

  “Right, but Senneth and I know the truth. There’s no need to pretend with us.”

  “It’s not pretending, exactly,” he said. “I never know when there might be another mystic nearby, someone who can read thoughts as clearly as I can. So I always think of her as my mother. I always refer to her that way. Even when I’m talking to Amalie. Sometimes I actually believe it,” he added. “Or maybe I just like her so much that I want to believe it.”

  Senneth yawned and settled back against the cushions. “Well, she’s not the most maternal woman I’ve ever met, but I’d have taken Ariane over my own mother any day.”

  Mischief lit Kirra’s face. “As would I! Let’s tell her we want her to adopt both of us. She already has five children—six, of course, including Cammon—surely two more wouldn’t be any bother? And we’re both old enough to take care of ourselves. I can’t see why she would refuse.”

  “Because you’re a hellion and no one would want to take you on,” Senneth said promptly. “And I suppose I could hardly renounce Brassenthwaite again, now that I’ve finally reconciled with my relatives. So perhaps it’s not such a good idea after all.”

  Cammon was peering out the window. “I hope you’re not getting too comfortable,” he said. “Looks like we’re stopping here.”

  Senneth sat up. “Why?”

  “There are people waiting for us. Oh, look, it’s a little town, and they’ve put banners up to welcome me! And do you see that? Flower petals strewn all along the road. I’m going to have to get out and walk for a while and say hello to everyone.”

  The driver apparently had come to the same conclusion, for the carriage was already slowing to a halt. Senneth could see Janni nudging her mount over so she would be right at the door when Cammon stepped out. Senneth grinned over at Kirra.

  “Oh, joyful day. A chance to mingle with the eager populace of Gillengaria. If I were a betting woman, I’d wager we only get another five miles before the day ends.”

  Kirra was laughing. “We may not make it beyond this village.”

  A small black bird swooped in through the open window and settled on Cammon’s shoulder, calling out softly in his ear.

  “Looks like Tayse thought I needed a little extra protection,” Cammon said. “Donnal’s going to ride on my shoulder and be ready to claw people’s eyes out if they get too close.”