by Speer, Flora
“Lady Elgida, which do you prefer?” Durand asked.
“The sooner I speak with the king,” Lady Elgida answered, “the more likely I am to be successful in convincing him of Mallory’s evil intentions toward my grandsons. If we delay, Mallory may reach him first.”
“Do you mean Sir Mallory?” Ilona had gone perfectly still at the mention of his name.
“He has married my daughter-in-law,” Lady Elgida explained, “and he almost certainly means harm to Belai and Kinen.”
“I know the boys, and their mother.” Ilona frowned, then changed the subject. “Lady Elgida, allow me to escort you to the guest cottage. Durand, will you play host for me and show the men to their quarters?”
The cottage was small, only two rooms and a bathing chamber. It sat well behind the main house in a pleasant garden that boasted gravel paths and a stone-rimmed pool. The garden promised quiet and privacy. Even better, Calia was relieved to know that, thanks to Durand’s tactful suggestion, Lady Elgida would have to climb only two wide steps to enter or leave the cottage. When Mairne threw open the casement windows a flower-scented breeze blew into the neat, white rooms.
“I’ll send a servant with hot water,” Ilona said, “and someone with food. I’m sure you’d like to rest before leaving for court.” She started to the door.
“Thank you,” Lady Elgida said. “Before you go, may I ask a few questions? You said you know my grandsons. Are they well?”
“If by ‘well,’ you mean healthy, yes they are,” Ilona said. “Queen Laisren sees to that, you may be sure. If you mean, are they happy, then no, they are not. Both are mischievous boys and the queen has little patience with them. They are remanded to her service as pages in order to learn courtly manners and how to wait upon a lady. In truth, they would far rather be riding in the king’s daily hunt, or practicing with weapons. Nor do they care to spend hours each day learning to read and write.”
“They sound like typical boys to me, as any mother of sons would know,” Lady Elgida said. “Do you have children?”
“Not yet, I’m sorry to say.” Ilona laid an arm across her slim waist. “I do recall the days when Durand was a boy. Belai and Kinen are more unruly than he ever was, but then, Durand didn’t have a brother to urge him on to greater feats of mischief.”
“I understand.” Lady Elgida looked hard at Ilona. “If the queen is impatient with them, then I assume she has no children of her own.”
“No.” Ilona’s soft voice and a certain look on her face sent a warning to Calia, a hint that perhaps all was not well in the royal marriage.
“You ought to know something of the current situation at court before you meet King Dyfrig,” Ilona continued. “My husband, Euric, who is Dyfrig’s first cousin, believes Dyfrig has it in him to be a good king if only he’d put forth the effort. But Dyfrig suffers from a serious lassitude and he’s pulled in two directions by his advisors. Some, like Euric, are his loyal boyhood friends.
“Other men came here from across the seas to join his company when he was made Prince of the Northern Border. By then it was clear to everyone that King Audemer would never have children, so Dyfrig would succeed his brother as king of Kantia. He accepted the newcomers most readily, knowing he’d need his own elite guard.
“A few members of that second group are truly loyal to him; unfortunately, most of them only claim to be his friends while they attempt to garner wealth and influence for themselves. They don’t care what harm their rapacious activities cause to the country, for it’s not their native land.” Ilona paused, looking at Lady Elgida as if expecting her to speak.
“I’ll wager that Sir Mallory is one of the false friends,” Lady Elgida said, “which makes him a danger to my grandsons.”
“I believe that’s true.” Ilona expelled a long breath. “Your previous comments told me that you already knew most of what I’ve said.”
“Where does Queen Laisren fit into this puzzle?” Calia asked, her thoughts on the stone box hidden in her baggage.
“Hers is a dynastic marriage that was intended to guarantee peace between Chandelar and Kantia,” Ilona said. “Unhappily for both husband and wife, Laisren possesses great Power, while King Dyfrig inherited no Power at all. I believe he’s jealous of her.”
“If she were to give him an heir, he’d likely be grateful instead of jealous,” Lady Elgida remarked dryly. “Does he suspect her of avoiding a queen’s first duty by employing her Power to deny him what every king wants and needs: the certainty that his blood line will survive into the next generation?”
Ilona looked startled; then she smiled. “You are wise, my lady. I have wondered about that, too. I’ve heard whispers among the queen’s other ladies. Some question whether she is more loyal to Chandelar, or to Kantia.
“Please, don’t repeat our words where the house servants or anyone at court can hear. I don’t want Euric to be accused of disloyalty. I only said as much as I did because I could see how concerned you are about Belai and Kinen. Since you plan to request guardianship of them, you will need to understand how Dyfrig’s court functions. The king’s men are divided into the two factions I have described, while the queen stands separate from her husband and the nobles.”
“Thank you for telling me this. I promise that none of us will so much as hint at what we’ve learned from you.” Lady Elgida gave both Calia and Mairne a stern, repressive look. “Ilona, I trust you intend to include this information in the report you will make to Durand as soon as you leave this cottage.”
“Oh, my lady,” Ilona said with a chuckle, “I do believe you and I are going to become great friends.”
Calia knew she had little hope of gaining a private audience with Queen Laisren. Therefore, she decided, she would have to carry the stone box with her that evening and try to find a moment in which to pass it to the queen. Failing that, she’d have to depend on Ilona to maneuver her into close proximity to the queen at some later date.
While Lady Elgida was bathing in the separate chamber with Mairne in attendance, Calia sorted through the contents of the wicker hamper that held her clothing. Only one gown of plain blue wool was made with a pocket hidden in the heavy folds of the skirt and it was far from grand enough for an appearance at court. But then, the other two gowns she had packed were hardly more luxurious. She took out the stone box and slipped it into the pocket of the blue gown.
She did own one garment suitable for use at any court. A large shawl made of soft fabric that was said to come from the lands far east of the Dominion, it glowed in shades of deep blue, wine red, and a remarkable, brilliant green. Calia’s nurse had given it to her just before she died, telling Calia that she had been wrapped into it when her mother, Lady Casilde, had handed her over to the nurse. When Walderon arrived years later to take Calia to Catherstone, she had remembered to add the shawl to her small pile of belongings.
The shawl lay at the very bottom of the hamper. Calia lifted it out, smoothed the wide fringe, and held the shawl against the blue gown. She decided she would drape it over her shoulder and use the folds of it to conceal the slight bulge made by the hidden box.
“That looks very pretty,” Lady Elgida remarked as she returned from her bath. “Those lustrous colors against the deep blue – yes, I think you will be properly dressed in that combination.”
“So do I.” Calia laid the gown and the shawl into the hamper, closed the lid, and went to take her own bath.
King Dyfrig of Kantia lacked the strong, dignified presence that Calia expected to find in a king. In fact, she thought with an inward sigh of disappointment, Dyfrig looked remarkably like the houses in his capital city. He was tall and thin, with a long, sorrowful face. His red hair was so sparse that he’d likely soon be bald. His straggly beard and the bags beneath his pale eyes reminded Calia of the flower boxes she’d seen under every window, with their downward trailing vines. Every line of the king’s face and figure drooped and his plain grey robes emphasized his somber aspect. His ornate gold crow
n appeared much too weighty for so dejected a figure to bear. Calia wondered if Dyfrig ever smiled.
In contrast, Queen Laisren, who was robed in deep red, glowed with health and beauty. As tall as her husband and equally slender, her abundant, dark brown hair shimmered with golden and reddish lights, and with tinges of darker, deeper shades. Every time Laisren moved her head, her hair shifted upon her shoulders and changed color. The narrow gold crown on her brow could not begin to confine or control that glowing, swirling, ever-changing mass. Laisren’s eyes were deep blue, the same cobalt of the northern seas. Her skin blushed with the warmth of a rare, pink pearl.
In her exquisite person Laisren captured all the elegance and allure – and all the magic – that a queen ought to possess. Garit and Durand, who were both experienced men, stared at her as if wondering whether she was human or not. Clearly, the Queen of Kantia dazzled all who beheld her. Calia had expected no less of the daughter of the Great Mage Ultan and she smiled, pleased by what she saw.
“My lord king.” Ilona curtsied low, keeping her head bowed until one of Dyfrig’s nobles, a dark, bulky man, left the king’s side and came forward to raise her by one elbow. When Ilona clasped his hand and smiled at him in a familiar manner, Calia knew the noble was Lord Euric.
“Lady Ilona, who are these strangers?” the king demanded in a fretful voice.
“They arrived unexpectedly at midday, after a most adventurous voyage from Sapaudia,” Ilona responded. “You may remember my brother, Lord Durand, who was formally presented to you during an earlier visit. I believe you also know Lord Garit, who was your late brother’s emissary to Sapaudia.” She went on until all of the party with her had been presented. Dyfrig appeared to hear only one name.
“Garit of Kinath,” the king repeated, frowning at him.
“Sir, I am now known as Lord Garit of Auremont.”
“But he was born Garit of Kinath,” Lady Elgida said, stepping forward to face the king directly. “That is why we are here, King Dyfrig. I understand that you have designated my grandson, Belai, as lord of Kinath. Garit has the better claim to the title.”
“Lord Garit has not lived in Kantia for many years,” said Queen Laisren. Her voice was sweet as warm honey and at the sound of it all eyes turned toward her. All, save her husband’s eyes. Dyfrig was still frowning at Garit.
“That is true, my lady,” Garit said. “I hold Castle Auremont in Sapaudia, which I earned by my own efforts. My life is there now. I have no desire to hold Kinath. Belai is welcome to it.”
“King Dyfrig, I believe my grandsons to be in danger of their lives,” Lady Elgida declared.
She had warned Calia of what she intended to do and of the response she would most likely engender. Even so, Calia was appalled by the way the courtiers smirked and whispered among themselves at the effrontery of the elderly lady who stood so boldly before their rulers. Hearing the snickers and some of the sarcastic remarks they made about interlopers and foreigners, Calia began to understand why Lady Elgida disliked the Kantians.
“How can the boys be in danger when they are under my protection?” Queen Laisren asked.
“King Dyfrig,” Lady Elgida went on, undeterred by the queen’s remark or by the titters of the courtiers, “I came to Kerun to petition you to make Garit the official guardian of Belai and Kinen. I am forced to admit that at my age I cannot attend personally to their manly training. Garit can. Sir, I implore you to remove them from Sir Mallory’s care and give them to Garit, who is their blood kin.”
“Their mother is their nearest blood kin and she has offered no objection to Mallory’s appointment as their guardian,” the king said. “Therefore, I see no reason to make the change you have requested. You and your friends have my leave to retire from this assembly.”
“King Dyfrig!” Calia cried as he turned away from Lady Elgida with a grimace of distaste. She felt she had to aid Lady Elgida’s effort, for she owed much to that good lady. “Do you know who Sir Mallory is?”
“He is my loyal friend. Who are you?” The king glared his irritation at the woman who would not obey his order to depart.
“I am Mallory’s half-sister,” Calia declared in a loud, clear voice. “Our father was Walderon of Catherstone, who was executed three years ago for treason against King Henryk of Sapaudia. After our father’s death Mallory fled to exile at your court.”
She paid no heed to the gasps from the courtiers. She had expected them to be shocked by her words. But she had thought the king would be shocked, too, and in that assumption she was mistaken.
“Not all of my early adherents were men with spotless pasts. Did your brother commit treason against King Henryk?” King Dyfrig demanded.
“I have no sure proof that he did,” Calia admitted, “but I do know what he told me just a few days ago at Kinath. He intends to become lord of Kinath. Sir, you and I both know the only way that Mallory can accede to that title is if both Belai and Kinen are dead. My brother is a cruel, heartless man. He will not hesitate to kill two young boys in order to attain an honor and a title he craves.”
“When I made Mallory the guardian of those boys,” King Dyfrig told her, “he swore to keep them safe.”
“Mallory swears falsely as easily as he breathes,” Calia said. “He cares for no one save himself, and for nothing but his personal advancement.”
“Lady, your words betray your own blood kin. Why should I believe a disloyal sister? Be gone from my court, you and Lady Elgida, and your companions with you. Euric, escort your wife home and see that she stays there for the next three days.”
“Yes, my lord.” Euric bowed low. “Come, Ilona.”
“King Dyfrig, you must hear us!” Lady Elgida cried. “Mallory is not your friend and the lives of two little boys are at stake.”
The king did not respond; instead, he turned his back on Lady Elgida and began speaking to a group of noblemen. At this sign of royal displeasure the whispers and mocking laughter of the courtiers increased in volume.
Calia was so frustrated that she was close to tears.
“Queen Laisren,” she said, venturing two steps closer to that lady and speaking just loud enough for the queen to hear her, but not the king. “Ultan sent me,” she mouthed when the queen glanced at her in surprise at her defiance.
The queen shook her head and bent to whisper something to one of her ladies.
King Dyfrig’s guards advanced on them, to accompany them out of the palace. Calia sent one last, imploring look in the queen’s direction. Laisren did not appear to notice.
With the guards surrounding them, they were led down a long flight of stairs. They were almost at the large, double doors of the main entrance when a young woman in noble robes appeared. Calia recognized her as the lady to whom the queen had been whispering.
“I am Sundaria of Chandelar,” the woman said. “Queen Laisren would speak with Calia and with Lord Durand.”
“Certainly not,” Lady Elgida exclaimed. “Not without me.”
“Please, my lady, go with Ilona,” Calia begged. “I’ll rejoin you later. I won’t be alone. Durand will be with me.”
She had intercepted the meaningful look exchanged by Garit and Durand at Sundaria’s words and had guessed that Durand wished to speak with the queen in private. She didn’t know what Durand’s mission in Kantia was and at the moment she didn’t much care. All that mattered to her was that Durand’s secret activities would offer her the opportunity she needed to hand over the box that bumped against her hip every time she moved.
“Come along, Grandmother.” Garit seized Lady Elgida by one arm and nearly dragged her through the palace door. “We can depend upon Durand to keep Calia safe,” he added with a look at his friend that plainly said he’d better do exactly that.
The room to which Sundaria conducted them was an antechamber so small that Calia guessed it was the place where the queen received unimportant visitors or, perhaps, tradespeople. Two narrow windows looked out to the Western Hills, with the orange and
yellow flowers that grew in the window boxes illuminated by the setting sun. On the opposite wall from the windows a flowery tapestry hung. The other walls were plain white. A single wooden chair on a little dais was the only furniture.
Laisren wasn’t sitting in the chair. She stood alone near the windows, with the golden light of evening shining on her face and her remarkable hair. When she turned her head at Sundaria’s entrance, the gems in her crown glittered.
“Here they are, my lady.” Sundaria made only a sketchy curtsey, the smallest possible bending of her knees. “Shall I leave or stay?” she asked in a way that told Calia the two women were close friends.
“Remain here.” Laisren gestured and Sundaria moved to stand at her queen’s right side and a little behind her.
Calia noticed out of the corner of her eye that Durand was bowing, so she curtsied. She was barely upright again before Laisren spoke, going directly to the issue that was uppermost in Calia’s mind.
“Why did my father send you to me?”
“My lady?” Durand responded, looking perplexed.
“Not you, old friend,” Laisren said, a slight smile curving her beautiful mouth. “I was speaking to Calia.”
“A short time ago, we were in Tannaris,” Calia said. “While we were there the Great Mage Ultan summoned me to his own house.”
“And greeted you in a room filled with stars,” Laisren interjected. A dreamy expression softened her perfect features. “I know it well.”
“It’s a beautiful room,” Calia agreed. “Ultan is a remarkable man.”
“Why did he summon you?” Laisren asked.
“He wanted me to deliver a delicate gift to you. I am instructed to place it directly into your hands, in private.” Calia paused, glancing at the man who stood beside her.