But then she sighed and let him go. He crawled to the edge of the pond and hung there, half in the water still, choking and gasping. A door opened and a guard came out of the house. It was the one she’d nearly drowned earlier. She glared at him.
“Open the gate. I want to leave.”
He swallowed visibly, but he didn’t move.
“Open the gate!” Aislin yelled.
He nodded and ran for the gate, going in a wide arc that kept him as far from Aislin as possible. Once the gate was open he ran through it and disappeared.
╬ ╬ ╬
Out on the street, Aislin looked both ways, not quite sure which way to go. The street was quiet, with only a couple of people on it. To the right a few blocks down she could see a busy street so she decided to go that way.
She stood on the edge of the busy street. Wagons passed by carrying lumber, heaps of potatoes, garbage. Nearby there was one that was stopped in front of a building, an older man and a young boy just unloading the last of the wooden crates that were stacked in the back. The boy hopped into the back of the wagon and the older man was about to climb up onto the seat when Aislin made her decision. She hurried over and tugged on the man’s coat. He looked down at her.
“Do you know where the Tender estate is?” she asked him.
He gave her a curious look. “I do.”
“Take me there,” she said. She grabbed onto the side of the wagon and pulled herself up onto the seat. He stood there looking at her, surprised. He had white hair and hands roughened by years of work. “Let’s go,” she said. “I’m in a hurry.”
A smile appeared on the man’s face. “You’re not much for politeness, are you, miss?”
“I’m late,” she said. “And I’m grumpy.”
He looked around. “I’d ask what a little thing like you is doing down here all by yourself, but I don’t guess it matters. Not really.” He climbed heavily onto the seat and settled himself. “Next stop, the Tender estate.” He snapped the reins and the horse started off.
“Don’t try anything, either,” Aislin told him. “I’m watching you.” A moment later she added, “And I don’t want anything to drink.”
The man chuckled. “You’re a fiery one.” The horse clopped up the street, the wagon swaying and creaking. “A little young to be a Tender, aren’t you?”
“I’m not a Tender.”
“Are you a servant, then?”
“I don’t want to talk anymore.”
“I’m going to say you’re not a servant. I don’t guess you’d last long with a tongue like that.”
When they reached the estate, Aislin hopped down before the wagon came completely to a halt and ran for the gate. “You’re welcome!” the man called after her, but Aislin ignored him.
Randel, the young guard who was tasked with keeping an eye on her, emerged from the open gate about the time Aislin got there. “There you are!” he exclaimed, crouching down in front of her. He looked relieved to see her. “You got here just in time. Your mother was about to send out every person on the whole estate to look for you, the Tenders included.”
Aislin stopped. “Am I that late?”
“It’s dark,” Randel said. “What do you think?”
Aislin scowled. “Now she’s never going to let me go out on my own again.”
“It might be a while,” he agreed. He stroked his goatee, something he often did. He was powerfully proud of his facial hair. “I was worried too, Aislin. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“But I’m fine!” she said, spreading her arms as if to show him.
“That you are.” He patted her on the shoulder and stood up. He held out his hand. “Shall we go find your mother?”
Aislin took his hand and they entered the estate. Netra was standing in front of the estate house, a number of guards, servants and Tenders gathered in front of her. She was giving them orders, splitting them into teams and telling them where to search, when she turned and saw Aislin approaching.
She ran over and swept Aislin up in her arms and hugged her tightly.
“That’s enough, Mama,” Aislin said after a minute.
“I’ll say when it’s enough,” Netra said gruffly. She set Aislin down. “I don’t know whether to be more relieved or angry,” she said.
“I’m only a little late.”
“Only a little? You said you would be right back. You promised me.”
Now Aislin felt a little bad. She could see from her mother’s face how frightened she’d been. “I got lost is all. But a nice man in a wagon gave me a ride home.” She decided not to tell her mother about the fat man. Not right now anyway. She would only get upset and then who knew how long it would be before Aislin got to leave the estate again.
“A man in a wagon? But I taught you…” Netra trailed off. “Never mind. We’ll talk about it on the way. Come on. Let’s get you looking presentable. That dress is filthy.” She took hold of Aislin’s hand and began pulling her toward the small cottage they lived in near the back of the estate.
“Do we still have to go? It’s so boring.” It was terribly difficult to listen to old people talk about things she didn’t care about.
“Don’t complain. It’s only once a month. Besides, you like the macht.”
“I guess.” Aislin had to admit that Macht Rome wasn’t that bad, for an adult. He smiled a lot. And he didn’t talk to her like she was a little kid, which is what most adults did. She hated that. She wasn’t a little kid anymore.
“And he is the king. If he wants us to show up, we don’t have a lot of choice.”
“If he’s the king, why do we call him ‘macht’?” Aislin asked.
“Because he wants us to. Now hurry up.”
╬ ╬ ╬
A few minutes later they were in a carriage heading at a good pace for the palace. Cara, the FirstMother of the Tenders and Netra’s friend since childhood, was with them. Aislin liked Cara too. She was always friendly and kind. There was something calming about being around her.
“Anything interesting happen lately, Aislin?” Cara asked her.
Aislin thought about the fat man. She’d bet Cara would find that pretty interesting. But instead she said, “No, just boring stuff,” and looked out the window.
The carriage stopped in front of the palace. Chamberlain Opus was there, neat as always in white gloves and a black coat, with his hair and mustache oiled. He bowed and offered his hand to Aislin, but she ignored it and jumped down out of the carriage. She wasn’t some old lady who needed help with everything.
“Hi, Opus,” she said, and scampered on past him.
Opus turned to watch her go. “I see you managed to get her to wear shoes this time,” he said to Netra. “You’re making progress.”
“Maybe, maybe not. It will be a miracle if she makes it through dinner with them still on,” Netra replied.
“Don’t give up too easily. It has taken quite a few years, but I have managed to shave off some of the rougher edges of the macht,” he said with a faint smile. “With the help of the queen, of course.” Having grown up on the streets and risen through the army before he took the crown, Rome had never had much use for the formalities of his position. In the first year or two of being king he had driven Opus nearly to despair with his refusal to dress or act in anything resembling a royal manner.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Netra said.
Aislin ranged on ahead as Opus led Netra and Cara to the dining room where they would dine with the macht. She’d been here enough times that she knew where it was. They all walked too slowly anyway.
It wasn’t the large, formal dining room, which was used only for large events and greeting foreign ambassadors, two things Rome truly hated. Actually, he hated any function which required him to wear fine clothing or use silverware instead of his hands. Rome was already there, sitting at the head of the table, wearing a simple leather tunic and black, cotton breeches. His tunic was open partway down his chest, revealing a thick mat of
curly black chest hair. His head was bare, his black hair long and bushy and blending seamlessly into his thick, untrimmed beard.
To his right sat Quyloc. He was nearly the opposite of Rome in every way. Where Rome’s frame was thick with muscle and more than a little fat, Quyloc was lean almost to the point of being skinny, though there was corded muscle on his forearms that said he was far from weak. He wore no beard or mustache and his white-blond hair was cut so short that he was almost bald. His clothes were neat and precisely tailored to fit him. Finally, where Rome’s expression when he looked up and saw Aislin was open and frank, Quyloc’s was guarded and wary. His deep set eyes landed on Aislin and his expression didn’t change. To her he’d always looked a little bit like a hawk trying to decide if she would make a tasty meal.
“Welcome!” Rome boomed, standing up from his chair and giving them a big smile. He motioned at his plate, which was adorned with crumbs of bread and a cheese rind. “I got a bit hungry waiting for you and decided to have a bite.”
He came forward and took Netra’s hands in both of his. “Good to see you again, Netra. It’s always a pleasure.” Then he turned to Cara and took her hands. “You look well. Being FirstMother suits you.” He waved to the table. “Have a seat.” The two women nodded to Quyloc, who nodded back, and then they sat.
Rome crouched down in front of Aislin and shook his head. “This must be Aislin, but it sure doesn’t look like her. She’s grown too much to be the little girl I remember.”
Aislin knew he was only saying that. It was the same thing he always said. She hadn’t grown at all. But it made her smile anyway. She held out her hand like she’d seen her mother do.
“What? No hug for your Uncle Rome?”
Shyly Aislin held her arms out, and Rome swept her up in a big hug. “That’s better,” he said after he set her down. Before he stood up he scratched his ear and gave Aislin a serious look. “Don’t you have something you want to tell me?” he asked.
Aislin knew right away what he wanted her to say, but she pretended ignorance. “I don’t think so.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yep, I’m sure.”
He gave her a mock frown. “Do I have to order you to say it?”
“You snore like a fatso pig!” she yelled.
Rome laughed heartily. “That’s what Bonnie tells me. Now let’s eat.”
A couple of years before, Netra and Aislin had arrived for a dinner only to find Rome asleep in his chair, snoring loudly. Aislin had turned to her mother and informed her that the macht “snored like a fatso pig.” Rome overheard, and the rest was history. He asked her to say it again nearly every time he saw her and he was known to regale visiting dignitaries with the tale, which he always ended by laughing boisterously. Usually it caused them visible discomfort, which Rome liked even better. He couldn’t stand the false world of diplomacy.
While the food was being brought out, Quyloc asked Aislin, “Have you sensed anything?”
Aislin shook her head. Quyloc asked her a few more questions, but she had nothing else to add and soon he left her alone. Aislin sat there, kicking her legs under the table, while the old people began talking about boring things. She wished she could run off and explore the palace. There were lots of interesting rooms in it. But she knew her mother would say no if she asked.
None of them were paying any attention to her and she had an idea. She casually dropped her fork under the table. “Oops,” she said. “I better pick that up.”
She hopped down off her chair and ducked under the tablecloth, which hung most of the way to the floor. So far, so good. No one had said anything. All she had to do was get to the other end of the table without bumping into anyone’s legs, then a quick dart for the door and…
Out of nowhere, Netra grabbed her arm. Aislin was pulled out from under the table to meet her mother’s severe gaze. “Really?” Netra whispered. Rome was arguing loudly with Quyloc, who was sitting very still, his arms folded across his chest. No one else seemed to be paying them any attention. Netra leaned up close to Aislin. “Do you think I never tried that trick when I was your age?”
“I…uh…” Aislin had never really thought about her mother being a little girl before.
“Get back in your seat,” Netra said.
But before Aislin could do so the door opened and a girl Aislin had never seen before slipped into the room. She looked to be about Aislin’s age, though she was taller. She had curly, dark red hair with a bow in it, though the bow had slipped and was in danger of falling out. She was wearing a yellow dress that was smudged in several places and ripped in one. Right behind her came the queen, Bonnie.
“I told you not to go in there, young lady,” Bonnie said sternly. “Your father’s busy right now and you shouldn’t disturb him.”
“But I want to meet her!” the girl said. “Why can’t I just say hi? I won’t stay long!” She was moving quickly as she talked, not quite running, but very close. Bonnie grabbed for her, but she ducked and left her mother holding only air.
“Hey, there’s my little Liv!” Rome called out. “Come give your father a hug. He’s feeling all grumpy from arguing with Quyloc again.”
Liv ran and gave her father a hug, but she had her eyes on Aislin the whole time, and she quickly squirmed away from him.
“I’m sorry, Rome. We’ll be out of here in a second,” Bonnie said. She was a large woman, not fat, but big-boned and as tall as many men. She had ruddy cheeks and a mass of red hair. Aislin had only met her a couple of times, but she seemed nice, if sometimes a little tired. But then, adults often seemed tired. She wasn’t sure why that was. Maybe they didn’t sleep enough. “Come on, Liv. Let’s let your father work.”
“But I haven’t met her yet!” Liv turned to her father for support. “Daddy, can’t I stay a little bit longer? I want to meet her.”
“Absolutely not,” Bonnie said.
“Oh, what can it hurt?” Rome asked. “She’s already here.” He ignored the flush that crept into his wife’s cheeks when he said that. “Why don’t both of you stay? Here, I’ll get you a chair.” He motioned and a waiting servant picked up one of the unused chairs and moved it over beside him at the head of the table. “Let’s give them a chance to get to know each other.”
Giving Rome a harsh look which he completely ignored, Bonnie sat down. “We’ll talk about this later,” she said under her breath. She picked up Rome’s mug and sniffed it. “Rum?” she said. “I thought we agreed only ale.”
“Uh, that’s right, we did,” Rome said. “Must have been a mistake in the kitchen. Let me finish that off and I’ll get some ale.” He reached for the mug, but Bonnie pulled it away from him.
“I think I’ll have this. The gods know I could use it, after the day I’ve had,” she said.
While they were talking, Liv came over to stand beside Aislin’s chair.
“Hey,” she whispered. “You want to do something fun?” Up close Aislin could see that she had lively, piercing dark eyes and a generous scattering of freckles across her upturned nose. There was a small cut on her cheek that had only partially healed.
Aislin nodded.
Liv looked around. No one seemed to be paying any attention to them. Bonnie was talking to Cara and Rome was once again arguing with Quyloc. “Let’s go,” she said. Taking Aislin’s hand, she pulled her away from the table.
Netra looked up as they were scurrying away and said, “Wait a minute. I want you to stay here, Aislin.”
“Let them go have some fun,” Rome said. “Why should they have to sit and be bored to death by the old people and their problems?”
Netra looked like she was going to argue, but then she relented. “Stay out of trouble,” she told Aislin, who nodded.
“Let’s go,” Liv whispered. “Before they change their minds.” Still holding Aislin’s hand, she took off at a run.
Liv led Aislin to a doorway hidden behind a curtain in the corner of the room. Behind the curtain was a narrow hallway.
“The servants use these,” she said. “They’re great for getting around the palace without being seen.”
They followed the hallway to a room where several servants were sitting at a table talking and eating. They smiled at Liv and one of them spoke to her.
“I can’t talk now,” Liv called, barely slowing down. “I have to show my new friend around.”
At breakneck speed she led them down more hallways and past several more servants, then out through another doorway, this one covered by a tapestry, and onto a broad landing. Liv turned to Aislin. “I’m Liv, by the way.”
Aislin was feeling a little overwhelmed. She wasn’t sure what to make of this loud girl. She pulled her hand out of Liv’s. “I’m Aislin,” she said in a small voice.
Liv laughed. “I know that! I knew you were going to be here tonight too. That’s why I came into the room. I wanted to meet you. We’re going to be great friends.”
Aislin wasn’t so sure about that, but she didn’t argue.
“What do you want to do first?” Liv asked. “I think some of the servants’ kids are having frog races tonight. Have you ever been to a frog race?”
Aislin shook her head. She didn’t think she liked the idea much. Not the frog race itself, which didn’t sound too bad, but the other kids. Mostly other kids stared at her and she didn’t like it all that much. So when Liv took her hand and tried to pull her away, she dug in her heels and shook her head again.
“Okay, no frog race,” Liv said, clearly not upset or deterred by Aislin’s refusal at all. “Not everyone likes frogs. My mother didn’t much like it when I put one in her bed. Daddy laughed, but she was sore for a whole day. What else can we do? Oh, I know! Let’s go look at the tower. You’ll like that. You like going outside, don’t you?”
Aislin, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the sheer number of words and the speed with which they were delivered, could only nod. The next thing she knew she was being whisked away again.
They ran down the stairs for a couple of floors and then into another one of the narrow hallways. This one led to a door to outside. Aislin looked around and realized they were behind the palace now. She’d never been back here before. The moon had risen and there was quite a lot of light. Off to the right was a large garden. To the left were a number of fruit trees.
Sea Born (Chaos and Retribution Book 3) Page 3