by Dave Duncan
old King Taisson. That was where the pressure was
coming from. If Charlotte refused the
match her whole family would be ruined; and if she
eloped with Gerard, both he and her father might die
under the headsman's ax. Only outside
Chivial could she ever find happiness--with Gerard
in poverty, or as a future queen of
Baelmark. Her family could not be blamed for a
Baelish raid.
"Oh, poor Gerard!" she said. "I do
understand, I really do! We just mustn't think of it."
"Of course you mustn't think about sharing your"--he
almost said "bed"--"life with a diseased old--"
"Fourteen major estates and castles,
Gerard. Of course we shall live in Grandon most
of the time, and I shall be a frequent visitor at
court. Jules has the King's promise that I
shall be Mistress of the Revels next Long
Night!" Her brave smile invited him to share
her happiness, and yet he had seen her be
physically ill after an hour of being pleasant to the
disgusting lecher. He dared not explain the
alternative he had devised.
She turned away to greet an ancient
uncle.
He tossed and twisted the night away in his
attic, but his aching conscience was not his only
torment. With his nose almost touching the roof he could
hear the rain and the wind, and he kept remembering
Leofric's prophecy of bad weather. The
Baelish fleet might have been driven halfway
home already or piled up on rocks.
Uncertainty only added to his woe; he
worried that he might be worrying
unnecessarily.
By morning the midsummer storm showed no signs
of departing, and even the wedding was in jeopardy.
Roads would be impassable, bridges washed out,
horses injuring feet in water-filled
potholes; and out in the grounds tents were
collapsing by the dozen. Guests would start arriving
by noon, soaked or cold or both, and this could
only add to the confusion in the already overcrowded
mansion. He offered to sketch Charlotte in her
wedding gown.
"A splendid idea!" her mother said. "That will be
a nice peaceful interlude for her. It has been
so hectic around here, and the next two days are
going to be very stressful!"
Lady, you cannot imagine. ...
An hour or so later, Charlotte stood in
an upstairs drawing room, staring out the
rain-streaked window as Gerard had posed her,
while he chewed his tongue and struggled to make
pencil lines convey the subtleties of fabric.
Her brocade outer dress of midnight blue
swept out from narrow waist to a wide hemline; it
was open at the front to reveal the scarlet satin
of the inner dress just as her neckline was cut to the
waist to show her pearl-encrusted bodice. She
seemed even taller than usual, so she must be
wearing platform shoes, and her voluminous
headdress hid her hair. The face was no
problem. He could draw that in his sleep, with all
the fine bone and the perfect skin, teeth, lips.
... Yet all of those were lit from within by fires of
vitality faceted like diamond, and there his skill
failed absolutely.
Her mother, being understanding--too understanding--dispatched
the servants on various pretexts, but she herself
remained, fussily checking lists at an
escritoire, not quite out of hearing. The conversation was
stilted, naturally, and Gerard did have
to concentrate on what he was doing. Elopement being
now out of the question, all he could hope to do was drop
some comforting hints, but the minutes flew by, his
allotted time dwindled fast, and it seemed he would
have no chance. Then Charlotte gave him the cue
he needed.
"So where have you been since you left us?"
"Abroad," he muttered.
Her cry of wonder made her mother look up in
equal surprise.
"What?" She had turned in alarm, forgetting
her pose but no doubt recalling his mention of
Isilond and Thergy. "How exciting!" she added
more cautiously. "Where to? What were you doing?"
"Oh! I shouldn't have mentioned ... but if you will
promise not to tell anyone ... and you also, my
lady? Absolute secrecy! Even the Prince
may not be privy to what is happening." He
had better not be! "And even if he is, he will
not wish to discuss it. We heralds sometimes get
called upon to initiate discussions with foreign
governments. Of course I am not yet trusted with
any major assignments." He was babbling, but
he had told no lies so far.
"You are modest, Gerard! Can't you drop us just
a teeny hint?" Charlotte teasing.
"Well, I had occasion to pay a very
brief visit to Baelmark."
The ladies chorused their horror.
"Those monsters!" Charlotte said. "You must have
heard! Just after you left us--they raided
Ambleport and kidnapped scores of children and young
people. Men slaughtered! Brutality! It was
unthinkable!"
Gerard nodded soberly. "My visit was not
unconnected with that event."
"Oh!" Lady Candlefen clapped her hands.
"How wonderful! You were negotiating ransom for
those unfortunate captives?"
"I cannot reveal the substance of my discussions,
ma'am. But it was a very memorable experience. I
was truly surprised. Of course I only saw
one city, Waro`edburh, but a most beautiful
place! I expected naked savages living in
caves, and found a prosperous, cultivated people.
Their houses and clothes are richer than most of
Chivial's." He smiled at their incredulity.
"I met a young prince, for example, about the
same age as Crown Prince Ambrose.
Honestly, he is one of the most charming people I ever
met. He may well become the next King of
Baelmark."
"He is welcome to it." Charlotte icy.
"I do think the Baels have been rather slandered. I
admit they are aggressive at times, but so few
foreigners ever visit their country--"
"Why would anyone want to? Gerard, you are
talking about slavers, killers, pirates, men
who assault defenseless women." Charlotte
angry.
"The violence is not all on their side.
Chivians can be slavers too, although we never
hear about that. A Baelish vessel was seized at
the quay in Ambleport and the entire crew hanged!
Did you know that?"
Mother and daughter exchanged disbelieving glances.
"No. When did that happen?" Lady
Candlefen demanded.
"About fifty years ago. The Baels have long
memories." Gerard saw he wasn't making a
great deal of progress.
By noon more guests were arriving, and Crown
Prince Ambrose was one of the first. He brought more
Blades with him, making a total--although
it took
Gerard some time to establish this--of six from the
Royal Guard and ten of his own. Unless
his father's health improved he would likely take
most of Ironhall's output in future. He
set up court in the great hall in front of the
fireplace, dominating everyone. He was loud,
he was big, and he had a young woman with him who was
very obviously his mistress--the two of them
sniggered and made eyes at each other. Compared
to Aeled he seemed a vastly overgrown and
spoiled child.
Gerard retreated to his attic and worked on his
sketch while the roof creaked in the wind. The
Blades would have been a sickening problem if the
weather had not already ruined everything. Even Baels
could never land an army in this storm, not with the
split-second timing that would be required. He
had failed to rescue Charlotte and failed
to satisfy the man he had hoped would be his new
master, so he would sink back into obscurity where
he belonged and abandon dreams of being a king's
counselor. The Blades were irrelevant.
Love was irrelevant. Everything was
irrelevant.
By sunset the overcrowded house had become such
a bear baiting that merely going out for a walk in the
mud would not be seen as evidence of insanity.
Taking a boat would be, for the Wartle was a racing
brown flood licking the tops of its banks.
Gerard set off into the rain, pausing only to chat
with the men on the gates and see who could curse the
weather hardest. There was no one else on the
road. As he approached the old mill he
began to whistle, but when a voice hailed him it
came not from the mill but from a hedge on the
opposite side of the road. He climbed over
a stile, where a path trailed off into the woods.
"Down here." Leofric was sitting on the ground
under a spruce.
Gerard scrambled in beside him like a child playing
king's men and outlaws. The ground was dry close
to the trunk, and the air pungent with the aromatic
tree scent. "It's all off, isn't it?"
The silver patch was back, a giant's eye
burning in the gloom. "Not that I've heard.
Report."
"But Ambrose is there already and Aeled swore
he wouldn't move against him!"
"He won't, but he may move around him.
What else is happening?"
Gerard groaned. "Everything is going
ahead as planned. There may be fewer guests
than they expected, that's all. Half the tents
have collapsed and the rest are awash. If this rain
keeps up, he'll be able to sail Groeggos
right in the front door. You're not seriously
expecting him to go through with it, are you?"
Leofric showed his fangs. "I've known him as
long as anyone, and never seen him fail at
anything yet. He took you through Eastweg in a
howling northerly, didn't he? No one else
would dare try. Keep talking."
"The ceremony is still to be held mid-morning
in the great hall. Then the banquet, and I
expect that'll go on long into the night. The
Prince has sixteen Blades with him!
Blades are invincible when they're defending their
ward, Marshal!"
"No they're not. All men are mortal. How
many sniffers?"
"Just one." And now Gerard realized that he had
not seen the White Sister since he had been on
his way to breakfast. "She may have left. I'm
not sure."
"You should be sure, but we have to risk it
anyway." The Bael reached under his cloak and
produced a flat package wrapped in oiled
cloth. "There are two sheets of paper in here.
One bears a watermark of a heron, the other of a
ship. Write something on them so that you know them at
a glance. If you put them in with your other papers,
you can always claim you don't know where they came from,
but Healfwer doesn't think a sniffer can detect
them while they're not active, not without actually
handling them. Keep your distance from her and you should be
all right. To release the enchantment, you tear the
sheet in half."
"Tear it in half? And what happens then?"
More than the water trickling down Gerard's neck
was making him shiver.
"The one with the heron will scare all the birds within
half a league, maybe farther."
"And you will notice. What's the message?"
"That the wedding party has entered the hall. That's
our signal to move in. If Aeled hasn't
come, then nothing happens. The birds go back
to their nests and you just carry on with the marriage."
"And if the White Sister is still there?"
Leofric shrugged. "She probably has a
fit. At close range she may be too
stunned to know who did what where."
"Your confidence is really comforting!" Gerard
yelled.
The Bael lunged forward and caught Gerard by the
throat, half choking him and dragging him forward
until wolf teeth snarled right in his eyes. "This
was your idea, ni`eding! You knew what would
happen if you threw an idea like that at Aeled.
If you didn't, you should have. And I swear if
anything happens to him because of you, you burbyrde
boedling, [Low-born weakling] I will
see you take a month to die! Understand?"
Gerard made choking noises, and the thegn hurled
him away one-handed as if he weighed nothing. He
rolled on some painful roots, banged his head
on a branch.
"Ready to listen some more?"
Gerard sat up and dusted dirt off his palms.
"Yes, ealdor."
"You tear the paper with the ship at the last moment
--either just before you complete the marriage or when
there's enough noise outside that the meeting's about
to break up in confusion. Understand? This is
important. Too soon and we won't be there
yet."
"How long do you need?"
"As much time as you can give us. You'll
probably hear when we are getting close. A
Blade or two going out to see won't matter,
but we don't want panic. The last possible
moment!"
Gerard groaned and nodded. "And then what
happens?"
"It will create a diversion. Everyone
presently in the room will be frozen to the spot.
It's harmless and it won't last more than two
hundred heartbeats, so Healfwer says. By the
time it wears off, Aeled will have control of the hall.
We hope."
"Or there's a free-for-all."
"That's true." Leofric smiled as if his
earlier anger had never been. "It may be quite a
ruckus."
"Suppose something goes wrong? What if the
sniffer detects the conjurements?"
Leofric shrugged. "I told you--you protest
that you had no idea those pieces of paper had been
enchanted and you cannot recall where they came from
or
how they got in among your effects. If they
haven't beaten the truth out of you or chained you to the
rafters, then when the ceremony is about
to start, run out the front door and keep going
down the drive to the gates. We'll do the best
we can without you. Repeat your orders."
"Heron means come to the house. Ship means come
into the hall." Gerard could hear the swish of the
headsman's ax already.
An abduction would have been much easier out of
doors, although that had not been the reason Gerard
suggested, back in Fourthmoon, that Charlotte be
married in the rose garden--he had merely
concluded on his first glimpse of the great hall at
Candlefen Park that it was an exceedingly ugly
barn. She had supported the proposal
enthusiastically. So had her mother but, knowing the
climate of Westerth and lacking her daughter's
perpetual optimism, Lady Candlefen had
suggested they make backup plans to hold the
affair indoors just in case--fortunately so, because
sheets of mist and rain were still marching relentlessly in
from the ocean.
That morning everyone was going around wrapped in the
warmest clothes they had brought with them, complaining of
being cold. Gerard was more chilled by the realization that
the gale had dropped to a bitter breeze, so the
foering might well be possible again. Rain and
fog without much wind were ideal Bael weather; and
unless Aeled had been driven to the farthest corner
of the world, he could probably bring his ships right up
to the paillemaille lawn before anyone even
noticed them. Even the ducks would be staying
indoors today.
The hall was about eighty feet long, with the great
main door at one end and the minstrel gallery and the
staircase up to it at the other. No musicians
ever played there, the Candlefens admitted, because the
sound echoed so badly. Admittedly the hammer
beam roof had some merit, but throw in the fake
armor and make-believe banners on the walls and
you still had a very ugly barn. So be it--the true
artist made the best of his materials and Gerard
had devised a workable plan, indeed several of
them, depending on whether or not Prince
Ambrose came or even the King. At the time
he drew those up, he had not contemplated inviting
a Baelish army also.
As the guests filed in, they had the windows on
their left and two kitchen doors plus