by Alex Bledsoe
Again they looked at each other, as if they knew something important I didn’t. It got on my nerves.
Finally Spears said, “There’s something you don’t understand, Mr. LaCrosse.” He looked at Jennifer. “She is not who you believe she is.”
“She’s not Queen Jennifer Drake of Grand Bruan?”
“No,” she said. “I’m not.”
I’d heard my share of lame excuses, but this might beat them all for sheer nerve. “You called her Jenny,” I pointed out.
“My name is Jennifer. But…”
Like a guilty teenager, Spears blurted out all in one breath, “She is the half sister of the woman who is now queen of Grand Bruan.”
Now it was my turn to stare at them, especially at her. I said, “No way.” But there were differences, subtle and hard to spot but definitely present if you took the time to look. Mostly it was in her bearing; Queen Jennifer never looked as deer-in-torchlight frightened as this woman.
“It gets better,” Spears said, then nodded at Jennifer, or whoever the hell she was, to continue.
She took a deep breath. “Jennifer Drake and I have the same father. Around the time his wife became pregnant, he also had a liaison with one of his servant girls. Both the servant and his wife gave birth on the same day, both bore girls, and both girls were named…” She looked down and sighed at the absurdity. “Jennifer.”
I made no effort to hide my skepticism. “That’s a little hard to believe.”
She shrugged. “I know that. It doesn’t make it untrue.”
“I realize how ridiculous this sounds,” Spears said. “I know a bit about breeding both horses and hounds, and the chance of two identical offspring from a single father and two different mothers is … well, unlikely. But”—he spread his hands helplessly—“there you are.”
“So your mother was a serving girl,” I said.
“No,” she said, chin high. “My mother was the lady of the manor.”
This took several moments for me to process. My stomach growled in the silence. At last I said, “Maybe I’m just tired, but I’m not following this at all.”
“Some days it confuses me, too,” Spears said.
“I am the daughter of Lord Leo Camiliard,” she said. “I met Marc Drake shortly after he’d been crowned king. He was young, handsome, and forceful; he overwhelmed me with his attention. I fell in love, agreed to marry him, and become the queen of the newly united Grand Bruan. But…”
She began to cry, the kind of silent tears that strike before you’re aware of them. Spears gently took her hand.
“The thought of being queen terrified me,” she continued. “I hated being stared at, being expected to speak and be gracious and follow court intrigues. I loved Marc the way you’d love a god, as something not human; it wasn’t … wasn’t real. And then I met Elliot.”
I saw where this was going. “So you switched places with the other girl who looked just like you.”
She nodded, delicately wiping her eyes. “Marc spent very little time with me before we were to be married. He was creating a whole new government, after all. So whatever differences there were, my sister overcame them. She’s much better suited to being a queen than I am.”
“Even though she’s a commoner.”
“Nobles, commoners, what difference does it make?” Spears said. “Marc has his queen, and I have my love.”
I closed my eyes in annoyance, weariness, and just plain disbelief. “So this is why people think you and the queen are fooling around.”
“Yes. We have visitors, and Jenny usually manages to stay out of sight. But not always. A glimpse here, an overheard comment there…” Spears shrugged.
“You had a very public fight with the queen, they tell me.”
“Yes. It was about whether we should go public with the truth, now that the days of war and conflict were over. We chose not to.”
It explained a lot: why the Knights of the Double Tarn distrusted the queen, and why Spears was scarce now that the wars were over. It didn’t explain why someone tried to kill Thomas Gillian and make it look as if the queen did it. “Well, be that as it may, the woman currently wearing the crown needs to see you by tomorrow or things could get ugly.”
He nodded. “Of course. I’ll be ready to go within the hour.”
“Elliot,” Jenny said. She stepped close and added softly, “You can’t just leave me here.”
“You’ll be fine. Just stay upstairs, and—”
“No!” she almost shrieked. “I can’t do it! Here all alone, wondering if you’re all right—”
Spears smiled. “It’s a joust of honor against Thomas Gillian, Jenny. It’s not that serious. And I never lose.”
“I won’t stay here alone.” Her voice was firm even though she looked down at the floor. “I’m tired of hiding.”
“She’s got a point,” I said. “Drake seems like the kind of guy who—”
“Don’t tell me about Marc Drake,” Spears snapped, fury in his eyes. Again I fought the urge to step back. “Our blood mingled on too many battlefields for me not to know him better than even his queen does. If I thought even remotely that he’d understand, I’d have told him long ago. But he wouldn’t.”
“There’s another reason she shouldn’t stay,” I said. “Whoever’s behind this may know about the two of you. With you gone, she’d be pretty vulnerable.”
“See?” Jenny said.
Jenny and Spears looked intently at each other, a contest of wills I wasn’t sure who would win. After a moment I risked interrupting them to say, “Now that my message is delivered, if it’s all the same to you folks, I’ll be leaving. Best of luck with the joust.”
Spears held up Drake’s message. “That’s not what it says here.” He read, “‘Mr. LaCrosse has my utmost confidence. Anything you ask of him will be the same as me asking it. I’m convinced of his honesty and integrity.’” Spears folded it with a wry scowl. “Looks like you’re still on the royal payroll, if you’re an honorable man.”
Of course I’m honorable, I thought. The second-best knight in the kingdom will come after me if I’m not. God, I wanted off this island. But the whole situation had become so incredibly goofy that now I had to see it through for myself. “All right, whatever. We’ll bring her along back to Nodlon. I suppose if she’s in disguise—”
“No,” Spears interrupted. “I want you to take her to Cameron Kern.”
Jenny gasped. “Kern!”
“Yes. Most people think he’s dead, and those who know better won’t think to look for Jenny there.”
“Apparently I’m supposed to escort you back to Nodlon,” I pointed out. “If I don’t, your friend Gillian will come after my head.”
Spears looked at me as if I’d said the silliest thing in the world. “Mr. LaCrosse, I give you my word, I will go to Nodlon. And if I do have to fight Tom, as much as I may hate it, I’ll win.” He sounded as certain of his victory as he was about the next full moon.
Suddenly Jenny noticed my cast. “But you’re injured! Your hand, how can you protect me?”
“He won’t need to fight,” Spears said evenly.
“But if he does—” She turned to me. “You can fight, can’t you?” she asked desperately.
“Yes.” Especially if you’d give me some damn dinner, I thought, but didn’t say.
“I have something that will help,” Spears said. He went to a large standing cabinet that, when opened, displayed an array of swords, maces, and other weapons for hand-to-hand combat. He returned with a sword in a strange-looking scabbard.
He slipped the straps of the new scabbard around my arms, so that it was held in place along my spine. A belt attached to the bottom of the scabbard then went around my waist. He guided my right hand up over my head; sure enough, the hilt of this new sword snapped into my rigid grasp, and I drew it with little extra effort.
“Wow,” I said, impressed. The sword’s polished blade gleamed golden in the lamplight. Its cross guard was a si
mple bar, and the pommel was an unornamented solid ball. It felt perfectly balanced. “Not bad, as long as I’ve got a high ceiling above me.”
“Putting it back is a little tricky at first,” Spears said with a smile. “But you’ll get the hang of it. And you’ll find it’s actually a faster draw than a sword at your waist.”
He showed me how to grab the bottom of the scabbard with my left hand to steady it while I carefully slid the sword back into it. It would take practice, but the quick draw made it worthwhile. I left the sword Kay had given me on the table; carrying too many weapons just makes you feel silly.
Jennifer—I mean, Jenny—watched all this silently, arms folded. When I’d practiced the draw a few more times, she finally said, “So when do we leave, Mr. LaCrosse?”
“How far away is Kern?” I asked Spears.
“Maybe a day, depending on traffic. You need to travel so as not to attract attention.”
I looked blatantly at Jenny. “That’s going to be difficult.”
She nodded. “Yes. If you gentlemen will excuse me, I’ll go fix that. Then I’ll be ready to go. Under the protection of a one-handed swordsman who apparently hasn’t eaten in a week.” She flounced indignantly from the room.
We stared after her in silence. Finally I said, “They’re a lot alike, too.”
“Oh, yes.”
I turned to Spears. “So why isn’t this Kern guy advising the king anymore?”
“I wish I knew. Whatever it is, it was so serious Cameron left without any sort of farewell. He just walked out of the king’s chambers, out of the castle, and into the night.”
“And no one knows why?”
“Cameron does. And Marcus. To my knowledge neither has ever spoken about it.”
“And you never asked?”
Spears smiled. He was a handsome thing, all right. “Have you met Marcus Drake? No, I never asked. But I’ve always wondered. Now—come with me.”
chapter
NINETEEN
I followed Spears through the corridors of Blithe Ward. Everyone we met immediately dropped to one knee. Spears motioned for one man to walk with us and spoke to him rapidly in their shared native language. The man rushed off to whatever task Spears gave him.
None of this slowed Spears down. He strode with such purpose that I had to work to keep up, and as a result I missed lots of no doubt interesting details. Many paintings and weapons were on the walls, and I wondered if they were souvenirs or mere decorations.
I did pause when we passed through the armory. The way the polished bits of protective gear and bladed weapons reflected lamplight made the room look like a golden treasure chamber. Each glossy piece, its straps and linings long repaired from the days of battle, hung neatly with its fellows, ready should the master of the house need them again. Some of the weapons I’d never seen before, and was unsure exactly what they did.
One item brought me up short, though: a magnificent two-handed broadsword hung point-down on the wall, an altar beneath it with two candles burning. The blade gleamed like quicksilver, the hilt was wrapped in supple-looking black leather, and the pommel sported an enormous ruby. Nothing marred its reflective surfaces. It looked, in fact, the way I’d expected Belacrux to look.
I didn’t even realize I’d stopped until Spears cleared his throat from the doorway.
I nodded at the sword. “What’s the story behind this one?”
He thought about it a moment, then shrugged. “It’s not a secret. This is Arondite. My father’s sword, and his father’s, going back as far as anyone knows.”
“It’s something,” I said sincerely. I’d seen a lot of beautiful swords forged only for display, and a lot of ugly ones created simply to kill. This one combined the best of both.
“You have a good eye,” Spears said with a hint of pride. “They say one of my forefathers first used it to rid my homelands of a rampaging giant that was decimating the population. It was made from a metal that fell from the sky, cooled in the blood of a dozen virgins, and struck by lightning when it was first held aloft.”
“Do you actually use it?”
“Oh, yes. When I need the certainty of a weapon that will never fail.”
“Will you use it against Gillian?”
“I have no intention of fighting Tom. My foe is not my brother knight. Whatever is behind this, its goal is clearly to sow dissent, and we must close ranks against it.”
I noted his use of the word it instead of him or her, but didn’t comment. He was clearly as circumspect as he was lethal. I gazed at the other combat-related objects. “You’ve got quite an arsenal here. Do you know how to use all these things?”
“Of course.”
“You still practice?”
“Every day. I can’t slow the process of aging, but I can make sure that I compensate for my weaknesses as they appear. When I lose a bit of speed in a thrust, I start using a longer blade. That sort of thing.”
I shook my head. “I have to say, I’m impressed. You live up to your reputation.”
He smiled, a slight and sad expression that carried more weight than it should have. “No one could live up to my reputation, Mr. LaCrosse. In many ways it saves me a lot of trouble, because it does half my job for me. But one day I know I’ll encounter a sword or a mace or an arrow with my name on it. Dying of old age is not really an option.”
I could think of nothing to say to that. I looked over a large shield painted with a row of red griffins against a wavy red background. The image was chipped and dented in places, and one strap end had torn free. Whatever had happened to it, the damage was apparently more important than using it again. “No restoration for this?”
He chuckled. “No. I fought ten men that day, all at once. Good men at arms. I slew them all. I keep this as a reminder that my greatest day is behind me, and that every victory since then has been by the grace of fate. Or luck.”
He ran a finger along the edge of the shield. “But enough of the past. Grand Bruan’s new enemy is very much of the present, and I must address it. Come along.”
I trailed him through more hallways and doors until at last we emerged into the well-lit stables. By lamplight, pages and grooms attended the various animals; my borrowed horse gleamed from a fresh brushing in one of the stalls. Elaborate saddle blankets and snake-smooth tack hung neatly on the walls, an equine version of the armory. The boys chatted among themselves until they noticed us and fell silent. They bowed as we passed them, then resumed their diligent work. Doesn’t anybody slack off on this island? I wondered.
Spears spoke to the stableboy who’d first greeted me, again in their common language. The boy listened and gave a flying nod as he ran off.
A four-wheeled wagon, worn with use and age, waited with two horses already hitched to it. Spears turned to me. “Good, it’s ready. This wagon will help you blend in with the locals a bit more. Although your clothes could be problematic. Not too many local farmers wear a suit from court, even one as battered as yours.”
“Do you have peasant clothes just hanging around for emergencies?”
“No, and it would take too long to find some. Ah, well, it should be fine. I sent Jack to fetch the map with directions and to tell Jenny we’re waiting.”
“What do I do when I get her to Kern’s?”
“Tell him the situation. Hold nothing back. Make sure Jenny is safe and comfortable. I think at that point you may consider your duties discharged. By then I will have established the queen’s innocence and hopefully ferreted out the hand behind all this.”
And explained to Gillian why he doesn’t have to track me down and kill me? I thought but didn’t ask. “You still say it can’t be Medraft?”
“No,” Spears said with certainty. “But if he is involved, a logical culprit suggests itself.”
“His mother, the king’s sister?”
“I can neither confirm nor deny. If I am right, I will deal with it. If I am wrong, I don’t want to add to the web of gossip.”
&n
bsp; Spears walked to the stable doors and looked out into the night. He cut a dashing figure even lost in thought. It couldn’t be easy to be the top sword in town; I wondered how many challengers he faced in a given year, all hoping to be the man who slew Elliot Spears. Eventually one would be, and he knew that. That had to weigh on him.
“When I first came to this island, Mr. LaCrosse, in the middle of Marc’s wars of unification, this house looked nothing like it does now. The insides were raided bare, the grounds overgrown, and a clan of near-cannibal brigands used it as a base to waylay travelers. In the countryside I saw farms burned, dead men’s legs protruding from ponds, and livestock rotting by the side of the road. Nobody dared go out in public after dark. The land was ugly and scarred.”
“It’s better now.”
“Yes, it’s better.” But he said it sadly, as if he didn’t believe it was real.
“May I ask you something?”
He nodded.
“Why did you come?”
“I came to fight. I stayed to help build … this.” He gestured at the world beyond the stable. “A land where the next generation might never know the sound of sword striking in anger against armor. Tell me, where are you from?”
“Arentia,” I said guardedly. It was true, but I didn’t like talking about myself.
“A fine country. The young king seems to know how to rule well. But then, he inherited a stable land from his father. Marc did not. He forged it with his will and his blood.” Spears smiled again, wistfully. “And mine also. That is why I stay.”
“Not for Jennifer?”
“Jenny,” he corrected with a smile. “Not at first. But now, she is linked inextricably with the dream.”
He turned and bellowed a loud order. Instantly the boys stopped what they were doing and ran out into the night, whooping and hollering. Spears smiled after them. “They do their jobs so well, sometimes I forget they are still children. I must remember to dismiss them early more often.”
I nodded in their direction and asked, “Do they know about Jennifer? I mean, Jenny?”
“They know she is the lady of the house, and that she is…” He paused as he sought the right word. “Reticent?”