“I have a horse. Several horses. You wouldn’t have to walk with that old pony of yours.”
“I like to walk.”
“Please, Ivey?”
“It wouldn’t be safe, Princess. Your father’s not the only man in the three kingdoms who’s interested in other people’s business. Damon has plenty of spies of his own. You might be recognized. What if you were caught in Rhenlan? Have you forgotten Prince Pirse’s sister? Princesses don’t do well in Damon’s company. He could use your intrusion as an excuse to start a war with your father—or force an alliance by marrying you himself. Either way, you’d make too valuable a hostage. It’d be no better if you were found in Dherrica. No, you’re staying right here, where you’re safe. I’ll be back soon. I promise. I have work to do for your father. So do you. Right?”
Slowly, Jeyn nodded. “All right. Still, I wish I could be with you. Maybe someday?”
“I hope so. Through Sitrine, at least. That would be nice. But it’s Rhenlan and Dherrica for me now.”
“All right, go alone. Just don’t get too lonely. I know your reputation, Ivey of Juniper Ridge.” Jeyn waved a finger at him. “I’d better not hear any new stories about you. To think I used to enjoy hearing about your singing pretty village girls into bed!”
“That was before I knew you. I’ll come home to you, love.”
“Soon?”
“Soon. We’ll discuss getting married then, all right?”
“Fall Festival?” she suggested. “Think how happy that would make Dad and Aage and Jenil.”
He looked thoughtfully at her for a moment. His vows called him to the road, where he had long served the Children of the Rock by serving Sene of Sitrine. Jeyn worked toward the same goals, but the vows she lived by were not the same as his. “Is that what this is about? You want to please the Dreamers?”
She stroked a finger across his collarbone. “No. I want to please you. I’ll miss you, minstrel.”
“I’ll miss you, Princess.” They kissed again. Ivey ran his hands down her back, memorizing the shape of her body, the taste of her mouth, the smell of her skin. Marriage wouldn’t change their vows. She would always be a ruling Shaper, he a traveling minstrel. Duty would keep them apart more often than it brought them together.
They would simply have to make the most of the time they had.
He turned and moved his pack from the bed to the floor. “I have to get an early start.”
Jeyn lay down on the bed, and opened her arms wide. “In the morning,” she agreed. “After we’ve said a proper good-bye.”
* * *
The stable smelled of used straw and damp horse hair. The horses themselves were gone, removed one by one as their tired owners reluctantly decided to go home.
They spread blankets in the hay loft, well away from the opening in the floor. Exploration began with gentle touches, fingertips tracing a jaw or trailing along an arm. He, the virgin, showed no hesitation. Coaching, probably. Who would he have gone to? Herri? Kessit? For herself, she was quickly lost in the novelty of a leisurely seduction. No one had ever undressed her gently. No one had ever asked her permission before reverently cupping her breasts. No one had ever paused to express interest in her reactions. No one had ever approached her in love rather than in lust.
Still, he was only fifteen and it was his first time. The moment he entered her his restraint cracked, then crumpled. With a groan he thrust once, twice, eyelids fluttering shut as the spasms took him. She raised her hips to meet him, holding him with her legs, caressing his back with her fingers. She marveled at the absence of pain.
He hung above her, arms beginning to quiver. Blinking his eyes back into focus he whispered, “Iris?”
“Come here.” Awkwardly he complied, helping her shift their bodies until they lay side by side, still coupled, legs entwined. He stroked her shoulder, sending a shiver down her spine. She squirmed closer against him. If this was desire, it wasn’t frightening. So many of the tales that filled her memory made sense now. Lust produced only a specialized form of violence. Desire—desire could mold lives, change the policies of entire kingdoms.
“I think that was a little too fast,” he murmured. “I was selfish. I didn’t do anything for you.”
She pulled the dark head close and kissed him. “Don’t say that, Tob. Never think it again.” Her intensity alarmed him and he tried to lift himself on one elbow. Vray caressed his face, soothing him. She would not allow fear to intrude. Not for either of them.
“Just stay,” she said more calmly. “You don’t really think we’re finished, do you?”
Tob subsided onto the blanket, as understanding and then appreciation put a mischievous gleam into his eye. “Ah. Now it comes. The truth revealed at last. Not so reluctant as you thought you were, eh? Or is it just my irresistibility?”
“Utterly irresistible,” she agreed. Then her hand snaked down and danced along his ribcage.
He jerked back with a gasp of shock. “That’s not fair!”
Vray rolled onto her knees but didn’t follow up her advantage. When Tob saw he was safe from further tickling, he slowly unrolled from his defensive position.
“Let’s start over,” she suggested. “From the beginning. As we did before.”
He knelt in front of her. “Only more so?”
“Only more so,” she breathed.
Chapter 41
Jordy left the house well before dawn. The rain had ended during the night, but the sky was still obscured by clouds. He led Stockings down the hill out of the yard, depending on feel rather than sight to keep to the path. The eastward road was an avenue of darkness between darker, looming walls of faintly rustling vegetation. Jordy continued to walk until the road passed out of the small woods and the river became audible on his right. Then he mounted, and with the growing light, urged the horse to pick up her pace.
He had so much to say to Jenil that he couldn’t decide where to begin. What had the woman been thinking of? Whose interests had she thought to serve, bringing the princess to Broadford? Family troubles, Ivey had said. Jordy’s anger grew as he remembered the minstrel’s casual familiarity with the girl’s story. He must have been quite pleased with his cleverness. Fooling a gullible village with his tale. The girl’s Redmother training, oh, aye, he understood that, now! Her service to Broadford had been founded on lies. Perhaps she’d never actually spoken falsely, but she hadn’t spoken the truth, either. She’d misled them all.
Perhaps what troubled him most was the lack of purpose. Broadford hadn’t benefited. They’d gained a Redmother they couldn’t keep. What had the girl learned? Some embroidery? Some gardening? He kept returning to the same question: What had Jenil been thinking of to bring the girl to him?
He reached Garden Vale at mid-morning. The residents were out and about, removing decorations and tidying up after the previous day’s festival. At the Brownmother house he was greeted with concern, under the natural assumption that he’d come for a healer. Two of the more experienced healers offered to return with him to Broadford at once, since the Greenmother herself was unavailable. She had gone to Sitrine and wasn’t expected back for a nineday or more.
Jordy didn’t lose his temper. He made the women understand that no one was ill, that he had other business with the Greenmother. He left the only message he could, that he wanted to speak with her and that if she would ask at any of the major markets of summer she’d be able to find him. The Brownmothers suggested he rest a while and have something to eat, but he declined. He watered Stockings at a public trough and turned at once for home.
Toward midday the clouds began to break, allowing patches of sunlight to dapple the river and fields. The breeze decreased fitfully, losing its chill. The change for the better in the weather did not improve his mood. He was faced with a decision he did not want to make. If he could see through the girl’s deception, others would. She no longer kept to herself as she once had. All it would take would be a single traveler passing through who had kno
wn her in Edian. How had Ivey phrased it? The girl had been banished because she was an inconvenience. When word reached the royal court that she was no longer confined to the life they’d chosen for her, retribution was sure to follow. Broadford didn’t need another visit from the king’s guard.
No foresight, Jordy raged inwardly. That was the trouble with the Greenmother and the rest of her kind! No thought to the consequences of their actions. How many lives had Jenil irrevocably ruined this time?
Jordy did not go directly home. As they passed the foot of their lane, Stockings turned her head to look, but he anticipated her with a stern, “Walk on, m’girl,” and she didn’t pause. He rode her all the way to the entrance to the square, where he dismounted. He had to think before he spoke to Herri. The innkeeper had a right to know, but the knowledge itself could endanger him. Then there was Canis. The princess had turned to her for advice more than once. Canis would be deeply hurt to learn that everything she thought she knew about their Iris, beginning with her name, was a lie.
He turned to the left and led Stockings along the eastern edge of the square. The mare lowered her head, content to amble behind him and lick at the ground in a desultory search for a few blades of new grass. Fifteen or twenty of the older children were just completing the clean-up of the inn yard. He saw the girl at once, folding an awning with Tob. Jordy watched them with growing unease. The girl’s face shone with happiness. All of the young people seemed to be enjoying their work together, but this was something else. He saw Tob gather the folded bundle into his arms, his gaze never leaving her face. Her hand touched his forearm, a gesture of graceful familiarity. Tob bent toward her, confident, serene, giddy. The kiss was sweet and intimate. A few of the others glanced at them tolerantly before resuming their work.
Jordy stopped and leaned against the nearest tree, shaken. He’d seen it coming. It hadn’t worried him before. He’d entertained the indulgent notion that they might have a future together. Now that was impossible.
Herri came out of the stable, saw him, and waved. Others turned in his direction, including Tob and the girl. Jordy had no choice but to walk over to the inn, Stockings trailing behind him.
“Where’d you go, Dad?” Tob said as soon as he drew near.
“Wanted to avoid the hard work,” Herri observed.
“Like everyone else’s parents,” was Heather’s tart comment. Her friends laughed appreciatively. The girl, now holding Tob’s hand, smiled too.
“I had to go to Garden Vale,” Jordy said.
“At least it turned out to be a pleasant day,” Herri said.
The rest of the young people went back to their own conversations. They had no interest in carting business. Herri turned his head, saw two boys having trouble with dismantling the largest roasting spit, and hurried away to help. Only Jordy’s children stood expectantly before him.
His children. Tob was his height now, perhaps an inch taller, and certainly outweighed him. He looked at the girl and his resolve faded. Was she still his child? His frightened Iris, now fully blossomed into a young woman. What were her hopes and dreams? In the last year she’d revealed so many fine qualities. He’d accepted her before he knew what kind of person she was. He couldn’t back out of that commitment now. Whoever else she was, she was his daughter. His mouth tightened. He wouldn’t deny her just because it was convenient.
A worry line formed between her eyebrows. “Is something wrong?”
“I have a lot to do,” he explained lamely. “We really should be on the road tomorrow.”
“That’s something we wanted to talk to you about.” Tob was brimming with more than new-found maturity. Something else had sparked his enthusiasm. “It’s really between you and Iris, but I want you to know I think it’s a great idea.”
“What idea?” Jordy asked, perplexed.
Iris lifted her chin. Diffidence no longer interfered with her ability to express herself. “I’ve been thinking about my Redmother duties. I’ve gathered just about all of the village family memories, and taught them to Mankin. I’ve instructed her to learn Tagg’s family on her own as part of her training. So I’ll really have no urgent duties here until Fall Festival.”
“True,” Jordy agreed cautiously.
“I should know more stories. I never completed my training in Edian. I learned that every town and village has its own unique tales, but I didn’t learn many of the tales themselves. I think I should. To properly fulfill my vows, I need to learn about the rest of the world.”
Jordy made no comment. As a young princess, she must have studied Rhenlan and its neighbors. Which vows had prompted this renewal of interest? Redmother responsibility? Or something else entirely?
“I’d like to travel with you and Tob,” she continued. “See life in Dherrica, hear the stories of Sitrine for myself.”
“She could help us too, Dad,” Tob put in eagerly. “Just last summer you were saying how much you were looking forward to Pepper getting old enough to come with us. You said having another person to run errands would give you more time for the bartering.”
“Yes, I’ll help in whatever way I can,” the girl said.
“I’m sure you will.” Jordy examined the suggestion for drawbacks. It was a good idea, better than Tob could know. Jordy’s only doubts involved her motivation. Still, whatever her reasons, it was a valid request. She was old enough to decide how to improve herself. He’d been searching for a way to avoid attracting Damon’s attention to Broadford. This was a temporary solution at best. In the fall they’d be tactically and physically right back where they’d started. But it was a solution.
“So she can come?” Tob asked.
“You want to see the world,” Jordy said to her. “All right, lass. Ride with us.”
Perhaps she would see a few things she didn’t expect.
* * *
“I really should be going.”
Doron measured another spoonful of ocher powder into her vat before looking toward her husband. He was seated on her tall stool, feet hooked on the rungs, Emlie in his lap. The baby stared raptly into her father’s face while he alternately grimaced, stuck out his tongue, and crossed his eyes. Neither of them showed any inclination to interrupt the game.
“You’ve been saying that for four days,” Doron observed.
“Well, I mean it.” He held his large hand briefly over Emlie’s eyes, then whisked it away, answering her start of surprise with a wide smile. Gurgling, she smiled back.
“Because spring is here and the dragons will be returning,” Doron said, indulging him. She was well aware that he really couldn’t remain in Juniper Ridge much longer. She supposed she should be urging him to get back to his work. It wasn’t as if she needed him for anything. Emlie was a good baby. Pirse had already built a playpen for her in the corner of the dye shop and Doron knew she would continue to adapt her work habits to her baby’s changing needs.
“It’s not just the dragons,” Pirse said, interrupting her thoughts. “I’ve been considering what to do about Palle.”
Doron turned abruptly back to the dye vat. “I want you to stay away from him.”
“He’s ruining Dherrica.”
“You do more than enough for Dherrica. You slay all the monsters that need slaying, you’ve forced the Abstainer bands to withdraw—”
“Only from this area. It’s not enough, lassie. If I want to make a difference, I need access to the resources of the royal treasury, and full command of the guard. I need to be king.”
“If you go to Bronle, he’ll kill you.”
“Aye. But perhaps I don’t have to go to Bronle.”
His speculative tone drew her unwillingly away from the soothing slosh of the dye vat. She came to stand in front of him, wiping her hands on her apron. “If I’ve heard it once from you, I’ve heard it a thousand times. You can’t be king until you answer your uncle’s rightful challenge.”
“Aye.” He picked up Emlie and held her against his shoulder. “That’s his advantage
. According to the evidence, I killed his sister. I owe him a life.”
Doron’s blood froze. She stepped forward and snatched Emlie out of his arms. “He can’t have her.”
“Of course not.” A hurt expression crossed his face. “Besides, what use would Palle have for a Dreamer child?”
“Well then, what are you on about?” Doron snapped. Emlie’s little face twisted into a frown, and she began a whimpered protest. Doron forced herself to relax and cuddle the baby gently until Emlie quieted once more.
Pirse got up and guided Doron to her rocking chair. Once she was settled there, he seemed to lose a bit of his serenity. He paced several times between her and the window, then finally dragged the stool close to her and perched on it, hands resting on his knees. “If I went to the law readers now, that would be their verdict. I owe Palle a life. A Shaper life. It’s my life he’d prefer.”
“Because he knows that you didn’t kill Dea. If you can ever prove that, the throne is yours, not his. Especially because he probably killed her himself.”
He shook his head. “What proof? I’ve dug and puzzled for years, talked with the wizards and Ivey and Captain Cratt’s daughter. None of them can tell me how Dea really died. I doubt we’ll ever know. What’s important now is that I owe Dherrica an acceptable heir to my mother’s throne. If I can’t be king myself, I can still answer Palle’s claim against me without actually having to face him. All I have to do is father a Shaper child.”
“Father a Shaper….” As his meaning became clear, Doron’s worry evaporated in a flash of indignation. “With a Shaper lass, I suppose?”
Pirse’s chin jutted forward defensively. “That is the accepted procedure, aye.”
“I don’t suppose I have anything to say in the matter?”
“It’s not as if there were a lot of options available!”
“Oh, aye, such a terrible choice,” Doron mocked him. “Having to take another wife.”
“I said nothing about a wife.”
“What do you call it then? Bedding a woman, starting a family?”
Moons' Dreaming (Children of the Rock) Page 45