Gail Z. Martin - COTN 03 - Dark Haven (V1.0)(lit)

by Gail Z. Martin

  Kiara turned to the others. "Tris told me that Seanna has been lady in waiting to several gen­erations of Margolan's queens. So I guess we'd better get used to her having an opinion."

  There was a knock at the door. The wolfhounds jumped to their feet as Malae

  answered the door to find Crevan waiting. "May I come in?" Crevan regarded the dog watchfully. The mastiff made no noise, but he padded toward Crevan, head down.

  "Of course," Kiara replied, laying aside her tea. "I was expecting Zachar."

  "Unfortunately, the pace of these last few days has been too much for Zachar. He's had a setback. Almost had to carry him back to bed." Crevan shook his head. "I'm afraid he's not well at all, but we'll carry on. You have guests for dinner tonight—Bard Carroway, Lady Eadoin, and her niece, Lady Alysandra. Mikhail will join us at some point. Captain Harrtuck asked me to let you know he's hand-picked your guards, and that he'll be among them at every opportunity." Crevan smiled. "I'm afraid your duties as queen are just begin­ning, Your Majesty."

  Every night, Carroway's band of musicians played through dinner. In the two weeks since Tris left with the army, they had not repeated a set, and Kiara was as impressed at the musi­cians' ability as she was intrigued at the obvious camaraderie among them. Kiara watched, entranced, as Macaria played her flute. She remembered Carroway's high praise for the girl, and thought it was colored by his obvious and unrequited interest in her. But as Macaria played a lilting folk tune, Kiara felt the stirrings of magic in the air. The room's temperature dropped; Macaria's music was drawing the ghosts of Shekerishet. Those spir­its who could made themselves visible. Among them, Kiara glimpsed Seanna, smiling and swaying to the music.

  "It's wonderful how music lifts the mood, don't you think?" Make said.

  "It certainly is." Kiara had just enough magic of her own to sense the power in Macaria's music. As beautiful as it was, more than just the song was affecting the crowd's emotions. Macaria's playing seemed to lift her mood. At first, she had thought it due to the girl's expert playing. Now, she was sure it was magic. Car-roway knows the power of her playing. Bless him. It's no accident he's been sending her to play for me in the evenings. When Macaria fin­ished, Carroway motioned for her to join them.

  "Your playing is beautiful," Kiara said as Macaria took her seat.

  "Thank you, m'lady."

  "There's magic in it, isn't there? Mood magic."

  "The magic's always been there. My grand­mother gave me a pennywhistle when I was a little girl. I was the youngest of ten, so no one noticed if I strayed off into the- woods for hours at a time, playing. I don't remember when I realized that the music brought the ghosts near. It charms the animals too, although to a lesser degree. I discovered that

  the day I saw a wolf! I didn't know what to do and I was scared, so I kept on playing. I played a quiet song and he just sat down and looked at me until I was finished."

  "So the magic influences the mood of your listeners?"

  "I can't actually control someone's mood— and it wouldn't be right to do it even if I could. But I can enhance a good mood, and encourage a better mood if someone's in a bad one." She grinned. "It works best if the listeners don't think about it. Once you know, you can choose not to be affected. Most people never realize it. They just know they really liked the music, and they're more generous with the coins in my hat to show it!"

  Carroway laughed. "Can you believe some­one with her gift was playing in the street? I brought her to the queen as soon as I found her."

  "Carroway was my patron. I'll always be grateful for that." Kiara noticed that Car­roway looked away at Macaria's words, and a shadow seemed to cross his expression. Some­thing else is going on there. Something keeping them apart. But what?

  "You're not eating, my dear." Lady Eadoin looked pointedly at the food Kiara had pushed from one side of her plate to another.

  Kiara sighed. "I haven't been feeling well."

  "That's to be expected. It will pass." She reached into the small, elaborately beaded bag at her belt and withdrew a velvet pouch. "A gift, if it pleases my queen."

  Kiara opened the pouch. A polished agate disk was bound in a shield knot to a thin leather strap.

  "An amulet, my lady, for safe childbirth," Eadoin said. "The child you bear will draw notice in this realm and the next. A king's heir—and the heir of power to a Summoner. You must be careful. The agate is a warding against a difficult birth. Knotted so, it's a charm against the attention of dark spirits." Cerise gently took the necklace from her' and tied the charm around her neck.

  "Your mother told me that she believed it was the amulet she wore that made it possible for her to deliver you safely," Eadoin said. "I would be a poor friend to her memory not to look after you."

  "Thank you. From both of us."

  "I've heard it said that a bowl of salted water, laid at the foot and head of the bed, will pro­tect the babe from spirits," Alle said.

  "I've already put that in place."

  "Poor Carroway!" Alle laughed. "He'll think he's dining with a gaggle of midwives!"

  Carroway grinned. "You've no idea how many times I've been called to play for one of the court ladies in labor. But I've always been glad for the curtain between us when I hear their cries!"

  Make yawned and glanced at Kiara. "If it please the queen, I'd like to head back to the

  room and lay out clothing for tomorrow. This late feasting is not for an old lady like me."

  Kiara herself was in no hurry to return. Car­roway, Macaria, Eadoin and Alle were lively company, and it helped to take her mind off Tris's absence. Her sleep had been fitful the night before, her dreams disquieting. She was content to let the others banter. Although din­ner had been one of Bian's specialties, Kiara found that she was nauseous all of the time, despite Cerise's best attempts.

  "Carroway's not the only one to get called when a lady's birthing," Alle said. "Had more than a few travelers give birth at the inn while I was working there. The food they'd call for! Tea and cakes, pickles and sausage, candied fruit and rum—all at once. Never could figure out whether they actually ate it or whether calling for me to fetch it gave them something to take their mind off their labor."

  Dressed as she was for court, it was difficult to imagine Alle as Soterius first met her, spying for the Margolan rebels as a serving wench in a tavern near the Principality border. Alle was as vivacious as her Aunt Eadoin, with the same blonde hair and infectious laugh. Kiara was not surprised to glimpse a locket on a chain around Alle's neck engraved with the crest from Soterius's shield.

  Carroway glimpsed the locket as well and gave Alle a wicked grin. "Perhaps all that

  experience will come in handy once Ban returns from the war and that locket becomes a ring."

  "Perhaps. Or maybe some other tavern wench will put a knife to his throat and steal his heart like I did!"

  Kiara laughed. It felt good, a welcome change. The days leading up to the army's departure had felt leaden. Tris had been con­sumed with the planning for war. The generals considered the pregnancy to be one more item completed from their checklist. Now Tris and the army were gone, and might not return until after the birth. "Many a king's gone to put down a rebellion and returned no worse for the wear," Eadoin said with an encouraging smile. "Don't borrow grief."

  "I've heard it said that sweet music is heard even before birth," Carroway said. "So we're sworn, Halik, Macaria, and I, to perform for you every day while Tris is gone." He grinned. "With your permission, I've assigned Macaria as your personal bard. And I took care of the scheduling matter you mentioned earlier."

  "Oh?" Cerise asked.

  Kiara sighed. "I asked Carroway to see if I could have private time in the salle before dawn. Mikhail is the only one here who knows the Eastmark fighting style. He's offered to train with me—as long as I'm able. In Isencroft, women train in the salle until they go into labor, and they swear their labor is shorter

  for it. I thought it might take my mind off t
hings."

  "Will the good ladies of the Margolan court be scandalized?"

  "Not one of them gets up before dawn, I promise you." Alle laughed. "And if it pleases you, I'll also stay at court. I would be happy to make introductions. It would be an honor."

  Kiara glanced at Carroway, who was suspi­ciously interested in the reflection of candlelight on his goblet. "And you didn't have a hand in it at all," she said, raising an eye­brow.

  Carroway sighed theatrically. "Guilty as charged, m'lady."

  Kiara laughed. "I would be very pleased. Thank you."

  Carroway beamed, and Kiara intercepted a triumphant look between Eadoin and the bard. Just then, there was a knock at the door to the small salon where they were dining. A servant went to answer. Kiara and the others turned to see Mikhail framed in the doorway, a grim expression on his face. He bowed to Kiara and gave a nod in recognition to the others.

  "What's the matter, Mikhail?" Kiara asked, rising.

  Mikhail looked from Kiara to Carroway. "Zachar is dead."

  Carroway's eyes grew wide. "But he was well enough just two days ago!" he exclaimed. "I saw him."

  "We all did. Yesterday he complained of a headache, and when Crevan went to look in on him tonight, Zachar was dead, still in his nightclothes. It's possible at Zachar's age there could have been bleeding in his head."

  "So Crevan becomes the seneschal?"

  "And at least for now, I'll take Crevan's place. Between us, we'll keep the palace func­tioning. Zachar will be missed. He was an important link for the court to Bricen's memo­ry, and he would have been a great help to Kiara."

  Mikhail's announcement brought the evening to an end. Kiara bid farewell to Carroway and Eadoin, heading back to her rooms with Cerise, Macaria, and Alle. She was surprised when Mikhail joined them.

  "Something more you haven't said?" Kiara asked as Mikhail walked beside her.

  "Only that I dislike the timing of Zachar's death. With Tris gone, there's no Summoner to call Zachar's ghost."

  "Do you doubt Crevan's account?"

  Mikhail didn't answer immediately. "I think Crevan's recount is true to what he found. That doesn't make it the whole truth."

  Cerise knocked at the locked door to the Queen's suite, but Malae did not answer. Cerise knocked louder, and put her face near the door. "Malae—wake up. You've got the door locked. Let us in!" On the other side of the door, they could hear the shuffling of Tris's dogs.

  When no answer came, Kiara withdrew the key from a pouch on her belt. Mikhail and the others stepped aside to let her through. The door swung open. Cerise gasped and ran ahead. Malae lay slumped in a chair beside the fire. Seanna's ghost was beside Malae, and the faint sound of her sobs broke the silence.

  Mikhail gave the guards orders to secure the hallway. Kiara knelt beside Malae. Cerise's face was wet with tears. "She's dead," the heal­er said. Kiara reached out for Malae, but Cerise grabbed her wrist. "Don't touch her."

  "Why?" Kiara asked, feeling her throat tight­en. Losing Malae was like losing her mother all over again, and she longed for one last contact.

  "She's been poisoned."

  "Look here." Alle stood beside the table in the center of the room. A plate of tea cakes on a silver plate lay next to the teapot. Several of the cakes were gone.

  "Those are kesthrie cakes," Kiara said, her eyes widening. "They're an Isencroft special-

  "Malae asked the kitchen for them just yes­terday," Cerise replied, standing. "She always had a weakness for them. Although I think she may have made the request sound as if it came from the queen, if I know Malae."

  Kiara met Mikhail's eyes. "So if the cakes were to be for me..."

  "So was the poison," Mikhail finished. "Were the cakes here when you left the room?"

  Both Kiara and Cerise shook their heads. "So someone brought them while you were at din­ner." Alle said. "What about the guards? Did they see anyone enter the room?"

  Mikhail frowned. "The guards were with Kiara. Even the ghosts were with us when Macaria played." Kiara could see anger in his blue eyes. "I'm sorry."

  Kiara wiped away tears with her sleeve. "Zachar—now this. Malae's so far from home. I don't dare send her body back. It'll cause an incident. But Isencroft burns its dead, instead of burying them as Margolan does. Mikhail, how can I send her properly to the Lady with­out getting the court in an uproar?"

  "Make was old enough that it won't be remarkable for her heart to stop. As for the burial, you're correct. A funeral pyre won't be well received, given how fond Jared was of burning his enemies. But in a way, Zachar may have done us one last service."

  "How?"

  "Crevan's already making plans for a funeral befitting Zachar's long service to King Bricen and now to Tris. The court's attention will be on those events. Tell me, how does Isencroft bid farewell to those who die in battle far from home?"

  "We make a bonfire with some of their per­sonal belongings, so that the sparks will fly to the Lady."

  Mikhail exchanged glances with Macaria. "Go fetch Carroway. We'll need his help." He

  returned his attention to Kiara. "We'll attract less attention if we bury Malae, as the Mar-golense do. I'll see to it that she rests with honor befitting her station. Part of the farewell for Zachar will include a public procession to the crypts. There'll be bonfires to light the way." He laid a hand on Kiara's arm. "You'll be required to attend the ceremony, but only at the beginning. Once the procession leaves, we'll light another bonfire for Malae. No one will notice."

  "That's more than I hoped for." She paused. "It just doesn't seem right, sending her off so quietly. She's been with me since I was born."

  Cerise placed her arm around Kiara's shoul­der. "Malae would approve of a quiet good bye. This was her last gift to you, saving your life."

  Macaria returned with Carroway, both of them out of breath from running up the stairs. Carroway's eyes widened as he took in the scene, glancing from Malae's body to the plate of cakes and then to Kiara. "Sweet Mother and Childe," Carroway whispered. "Kiara, I'm so sorry.

  Alle stepped closer. "We don't dare let the court know. This must be our secret."

  Mikhail took Kiara's hands in his. He met her eyes solemnly. "Until we know who did this, you must be very careful. Whoever did this knows the palace, and the king's dogs, well enough to slip in without a scene. We don't know if the poisoner worked alone. But when he or she discovers that the attempt failed, there's sure to be another."

  Carroway was already moving around the room with Alle's help, gathering up any food and drink, even the flagons of wine and the kettle near the fire. "Just in case," he said, "I think we'd best get rid of everything. Alle and I can bring up fresh supplies from the kitchen. The staff knows me well enough that having me raid the pantry won't cause a stir." He made a pile of the discarded items near the door.

  "For tonight, let's put Malae in her bed," Cerise said in a practical voice that shored up Kiara's wavering control. "Tomorrow morn­ing, we'll pretend we've only just found her. Everyone saw her come up early, so they won't think anything of it if Malae was sleeping when we returned."

  Kiara watched through her tears as Mikhail gently lifted Malae's frail body, carrying her to the next room. Cerise sang an Isencroft mourn­ing song as she tucked Malae beneath the covers, and Kiara wept against Carroway's shoulder. The wolfhounds howled and the mastiff stirred from its usual place near the fire and trotted over beside Kiara, nuzzling her hand." Alle, Macaria, and I will stay in the room with Kiara," Cerise announced. "We have the dogs and the guards. There's nothing more to be done tonight."

  Mikhail and Carroway bid them good night and left, taking the suspect food and drink with them. Cerise wrapped her arms around Kiara and let her sob wordlessly. Alle, at a loss for what to say, laid a hand on Kiara's shoul­der. When Kiara's tears subsided, Cerise smiled sadly and dabbed at Kiara's eyes with a ker­chief. "So here we are again," the healer said, giving Kiara a motherly kiss on her forehead. "Just like when Viata went to t
he Lady."

  Kiara felt as if her heart might burst. "You and Malae have always been my second moth­ers. I don't know what I'll do without her."

  Alle brought Kiara a nightshirt and a shawl. "Perhaps sleep will help," she said kindly. "I'll sit up near the door." She tugged back a fold of her full skirt, revealing a cleverly hidden dag­ger. "It was best at the tavern to keep a blade handy in case the drunks didn't take no for an answer. I never got out of the habit."

  Exhausted, Kiara didn't complain when Cerise pulled back her covers and tucked the blankets in around her, hungering for the old comforts she had known since childhood. At the foot and head of the bed, as promised, were two shallow bowls of water. Cerise pushed back the hair from Kiara's forehead as if for a small child. "I can help you sleep, if you'd like."

  "Please. My body's too tired to move, but with everything that's happened, my mind is racing."

  Cerise placed a hand over Kiara's forehead, and Kiara felt the healer's magic relax her body, making it possible for her to fall asleep faster than she ever imagined.

  Kiara's dreams were dark. She was alone on a bleak plain, a shadowed place lit by a wan­ing moon. The night was unnaturally silent. No wind rustled the bare trees, and no crea­tures scurried in the darkness.

  Kiara flattened herself behind a rock ledge. Something was searching for her, for the warm presence she carried within. Kiara could sense a darkness, invisible yet almost near enough to touch. It was.not searching for her. It searched for the child she carried, a Summoner's child.

  There was nowhere to run, no safe place to hide. Instinctively, Kiara curled into a ball, wrapping her arms around her knees, shielding the child in her belly as the danger moved clos­er. In the distance, she heard the baying of dogs. Darkness enveloped her. It hurled itself against her mind, as the Obsidian King had once tried to break through her shielding. The amulet at her throat burst into light, and Kiara felt the shadow pull back.