Wolf's Eyes

by Jane Lindskold

  “You'll do, Derian Carter.”

  Earl Kestrel nodded. “Thank you, Valet. Derian, shall we go? Lady Blysse is with Lady Archer. I told the carriage to meet us at her pavilion.”

  As they strolled to where the rest of the nobility was en-camped, die soldiers stopped cooking their dinners or playing at dice to comment on their attire. Taking his lead from the earl, Derian did his best to respond appropriately or not at all. still, he was certain that by the time they reached Elise's paviUon his ears must have been as red as his hair.

  Baron Archer was waiting outside the tent for them, smoking his pipe.

  “Good evening, Earl Kestrel. Good evening, Mister Carter.”

  They answered and then the earl added, “Blasted hot, isn't it? I could have danced for joy when I heard that jackets were unnecessary for this event. I don't think my valet was pleased, but then he's a stickler for form. Still, I held my ground.”

  Baron Archer chuckled and tamped out his pipe. “The carriage is ready and the young women should be with us momentarily. Ah! Here they are even now.”

  Derian managed to keep his mouth from gaping open by sheer force of will, having been alerted by faint giggles from within that something must be up.

  First to emerge was Elise, resplendent in a gown of silvery satin with side panels of glowing green. Her golden hair was piled high on her head and adorned with a few tasteful white rosebuds. The jet wolf's head was nestled in the hollow of her throat, the only spot of darkness in a confection of light. Although he looked carefully, Derian could not tell if the jewel was the original or the promised replacement.

  The woman who followed her must be Firekeeper, but she was like no Firekeeper that Derian had ever seen. The gown in which she was attired was pale blue with rose piping about the throat. To conceal the scars that marked her every limb, the gown's sleeves were long, but constructed of a loose diaphanous gauze that revealed the grace of Firekeeper's arms while hiding their flaws. Above the modest neckline of her gown she wore a strand of polished lapis beads—an early gift from Earl Kestrel. Her dark brown hair was now long enough to be worn lipswept but a few tendrils had been left to curl about her temples.

  Derian was not the only one stunned to silence. Earl Kestrel stood gaping for a moment before offering his arm.

  “Lady Blysse, you look lovely,” he said.

  Firekeeper smiled and Derian could almost swear that she blushed. Baron Archer gave an approving nod, knocked the last ash from his pipe, and offered his arm to his dalighter.

  “Earl Kestrel and I,” he said, “are fortunate to have two such lovely ladies to escort. Come along. We don't want to be late.”

  Trailing the others, Derian glanced back over his shoulder. Standing in the door of the pavilion, Ninette waved cheerfully, mouthing:

  “Have fun!”

  Standing beside her, his tail just a little low and his ears cocked at a forlorn angle, Blind Seer watched them leave. Seeing Derian's gaze on him, he managed a quick wag be-fore his brash drooped again.

  Poor guy, Derian tholight. More and more Firekeeper's going places where he can't follow. I don't blame him for not liking that at all.

  Above him he heard a shrill whisde and could swear that Elation, soaring in the darkening sky above, was agreeing with him.

  THEY WERE NOT LATE, but neither were they the first to arrive. In order to round out the festivities and keep the ball from being too obviously what it was—a chance for King Tedric to review his great nieces and nephews in company with each other—a number of military officers and important citizens from the two towns had been invited as weU.

  Especially for the townsfolk, this was the event of a life-time, something they would be telling their children and grandchildren about two generations hence. The night I was invited to King Tedric's ball I saw… No wonder they didn't want to miss a single moment.

  Derian rather wished that he could miss a moment or two. Whispered comments, half-heard, made him acutely aware that he was masquerading as a nobleman. What was he but a carter's son?

  Background music was playing softly as their party moved through the reception line, greeting King Tedric and Dlike Allister as representatives of their respective monarchies, and Mayors Teralle and Shoppe of Hope and Good Crossing as heads of the twinned towns. When the orchestra struck up the overture to a line dance popular since before the days of Queen Zorana, Derian began to fade back, alert for a woman in need of a partner.

  A hand lightly plucked his sleeve. He turned and saw Lady Elise, a bright flush lighting her cheeks.

  “Will you dance this one with me?” she asked. “Jet is doing everything he can to pretend he hasn't located me just yet in the crowd and I don't want to end up slighted.”

  Derian swept a deep bow. “I would be honored, my lady. Forgive me for bluntness, but your betrothed is an ass.”

  “I should call you out on that,” she said with a light laugh that didn't fool Mm at all, “but my father cautioned me that this could be an opportunity to make a good impression.”

  “Indeed,” he replied in what he hoped were courtly ac-cents.

  As they took a place at the bottom of a set, Derian noticed that Jet had nearly pounced on one of Allister Seagleam's young dalighters: Anemone, he tholight, but it might well be Minnow.

  Derian quickly made a joke, hoping that Elise wouldn't notice Jet's tactlessness. The fellow to his right, a nervous townsman, picked up on the quip and soon they were all laughing. When counting off of sets of four began from the top of die line, they were cheered to find themselves in the same set.

  The dance began rather roughly, for although the Star Waltz had been around for a longtime,it had clearly evolved differently in the two monarchies. The variety that the lead was famiUar with was the Bright Bay version. Fortunately, the residents of Hope and Good Crossing seemed to know both forms and helped Derian and Elise along.

  Derian found himself easily swept into the next dance by the simple expedient of trading partners with his new townsman friend. That lucky man nearly stepped on his own feet when he learned that he was dancing with the future Baroness Archer. Derian's partner was sUghdy disappointed when she learned Derian was no one so famous, but he tried to make up for this by being a sprightly and talented dancer.

  By the third dance, Derian had forgotten that he ever felt nervous or out of place. From long habit, he kept an eye on Firekeeper. Not surprisingly, given her presumed favor with the king, she was not short of partners. Elise was also doing well. Jet came through for the third dance and the rales of etiquette that dictated that even an engaged couple shouldn't dance more than two dances together gave them an excuse to stay apart without seeming to slight each other.

  Relaxed now, Derian was more than happy to fulfill Earl Kestrel's commission that no woman be left without a partner. When the music began again after an intermission, he noticed a stately though somewhat older woman standing alone. He strode over and had already begun to ask her to dance before he realized that his prospective partner was Lady Melina Shield, the reputed sorceress.

  With her silver-streaked, blond hair swept up in an intricate knot interlaced with a strand of multicolored poUshed gemstone beads, and the gUttering diamond-cut gems of her omnipresent necklace displayed upon the white skin of her throat, Melina Shield looked quite well—past herfirstprime, certainly, but possessed of a calm and control that made the prettier younger women look somehow gauche and coltish.

  Having begun, Derian could not back away. He continued after a pause he hoped was interpretable as awe at realizing who he had chanced upon:

  “… and so I was hoping that your ladyship would deign dance this piece with me.”

  Melina smiled and he felt the full force of her considerable personality.

  “I would be happy to so honor you, young man. Let us hurry. The dance is about to begin.”

  When Derian would have politely joined at the bottom of the set, Melina led the way toward the nearest set of four.


  “Excuse me,” she said, breaking in so that they became the second couple and everyone below must fumble to re-orient themselves with new partners. Derian didn't doubt that a few couples who had positioned themselves advantageously so that they might flirt during the interweaving of the figures were rather put out. If Melina Shield cared, she did not say.

  Fortunately for Derian's piece of mind, this dance was one of those where the couples ended up dancing with their opposite number in a set as often as with their own partner. Even so, as progress through the intricate steps brought him once again back into contact with Lady Melina, it was all he could do to not stare at her necklace. Could one of those stones really be capable of inflicting impotence on a man? Could another inflict agony on a brave young woman?

  He kept the thoughts as far from his mind as possible, terrified that Lady Melina might be able to read them. Glancing down the long line he caught a glimpse of Sapphire Shield—dressed in a sweeping gown of brilliant blue overlaid with a light gauze in the golden-yellow of House Gyrfalcon. Without knowing everything Elise had confided, he might think it merely his imagination that Sapphire favored her wounded side as her partner wound her under his arm or walked her through a stately march.

  Lady Melina apparentiy thought Derian's silence respect for her and concentration on the particularly intricate forms demanded for this piece. Derian wasreUevedand rather glad that his. sister, Damita, wasn't there to brag how he had mastered this one several years before and won the Hummingbird Society-sponsored contest as a result.

  When he escorted Lady Melina off the floor, Derian dis-covered he was soaked with sweat. After fetching Lady Melina a cup Of punch, he was glad that her bearing made quite clear that he need not remain. He chatted with Doc for a few minutes, then with his acquaintances from the first set. The orchestra warming up reminded him that the dancing was to begin again. He was dropping back to see who might be left out when he noticed King Tedric beckoning to him.

  At first Derian was certain that the king was summoning someone beyond him, then that the king—recognizing him as essentiaUy servant—needed an errand ran. Hurrying to-ward the low dais from which King Tedric was watching die dancing, Derian bent knee almost before he was there.

  “Rise, Derian Carter,” came the king's somewhat high old voice, giving Derian his first shock. Despite having Uved among the court for a moon-span and more now, he had never thought that King Tedric recalled his name.

  “Come and sit beside me and talk for a while. It is difficult being old and able to dance only a few sets. I had quite as fine a leg as you when I was your age.”

  Caught in this second shock, Derian recovered himself be-fore he could bolt in panic. Him sit with the king and speak with him? Only the recognition that he would be guilty of a great insult to the monarch kept him in place.

  On legs that suddenly felt as if they had been carved from wood, Derian mounted the few steps and sat on the chair toward which the king gestured. He felt as if every eye in the room must be on him, but when he stole a surreptitious glance toward the floor he saw that nearly everyone was caught up in the unfolding dance.

  Nearly everyone. Lady Melina cast a speculative glance his way and from the slight grin on Earl Kestrel's face his patron hadn't missed the situation either.

  “So, young Carter, are you enjoying yourself?”

  “Yes, sir… I mean, Your Majesty.”

  “Sir is just fine. I was knighted once, long ago, for deeds I performed. I was terribly thriUed. That was long before I knew I'd be king one day. Long before poor Marras lost her will to Uve.”

  “I know the story of how you won your knighthood, Derian said, momentarily less afraid. “It was in battle.”

  “Yes, in battle, against these very people with whom we are now dancing. Tell me, Derian Carter. Should I put one of our enemies—or former enemies—in the position to rale our people?”

  This time all Derian could do was gape. King Tedric waited a moment, then continued:

  “You see, I was sitting here, watching the dancing and thinking on that question. I was wondering what my people would want me to do. Then I saw you down there, dancing away, and I thought to myself: ‘Young Derian has been living in the castle for a good time now. He has made friends with some of my potential heirs and has met others. Most importantly, he is one of my people, scion and heir of a hardworking trade family. I shall ask his opinion.’ So here you are. Answer me truthfully. I won't harm you.”

  With effort, Derian made his Ups obey his racing brain. He remembered his conversations with his parents, the gossip he had heard in the markets and in the square when King Tedric announced his intention of making this journey. Carefully, he framed his reply:

  “Well, sir, they do—I mean lots of the people back in Eagle's Nest—they think making Duke AUister your heir is just the thing for you to do. They call him the Pledge Child and have great hopes for his ascension to the throne bringing peace and goodwill between our lands.”

  King Tedric nodded, coughed sUghdy, accepted the cup of wine handed to him by his omnipresent guard, and said, “Yes, Pledge Child, I heard that term back when AlUster was first bom. I took reports that it was still in common use with a grain of salt. So my people dream yet of my father's great vision coming true. I would hate to disappoint them.”

  Accepting a goblet for himself without even realizing he was doing so, Derian asked:

  “Can you avoid disappointing everyone, sir? There are so many conflicting claims.”

  “Claims? I wouldn't call them claims. I would call them ambitions—for themselves or for their children. You still haven't answered my question, Derian Carter. Should I make Allister Seagleam my heir?”

  “I don't know, sir.” Derian met those shrewd old eyes for the first time. “I don't know him.”

  “Yes. That is the trouble. None of us really know him. He seems an affable enough fellow here and now. Is it an act?”

  'They say,” Derian offered, “you can judge a man by his children or his dog.”

  “True. Pity his dog isn't here. His children are old enough to have learned to act as they think they should rather than how they are. Let's talk for a moment about those you do know. How about your charge? How about Firekeeper? Should I make her my heir?”

  Derian swallowed hard. He knew what Earl Kestrel would want him to say. Knew, too, what he was going to say.

  “I don't think so, sir. Not unless you can be sure you'll be around to educate her. She's as honest as the day is long and brave as a wolf, loyal, too, but those things aren't necessarily the qualities a monarch needs.”

  King Tedric chuckled dryly. “Interesting. She didn't think she was ready to be monarch either. I'm certain that Earl Kestrel would think differendy.”

  “He has hopes for her, sir. You can't blame him for that.”

  “I don't. I respect him for his ambition whde condemning him for it at the same time. I'm certain that he honesdy hoped to find Barden alive when he went out into the western lands. Barden would have been able to make a case for him-self or for Blysse. Firekeeper with her odd habits and weird upbringing is a much less easy piece to situate advantageously on the board.”

  The king's use of Firekeeper and Blysse as separate names for seemingly separate individuals had not escaped Derian. Knowing that he was out of line, but unable to resist, Derian asked:

  “Sir, do you think that Firekeeper is your granddaughter?”

  A smile that might be called mischievous curved the old man's Ups.

  “If I told you what I think would you swear to say nothing of this matter—not even to Firekeeper herself? I have my reasons at this time for withholding public admission one way or another.”

  Derian's heart, which had slowed its panicked thumping, now felt as if it was going to burst out of his chest with excitement and fear.

  “You have my word of honor, sir, sworn on my society patron, the Horse.”

  “Very good, then. I accept your word.” The king bent his h
ead so that his Ups nearly touched Derian's ear. “Firekeeper is not my granddaughter, Blysse, but I know who she is.”

  Disappointruent, relief, and curiosity warred for a moment, then Derian asked:

  “Who?”

  The king leaned back slighdy. “Firekeeper is the daughter of two members of my son's expedition. Her mother was the daughter of a lady you have befriended: Holly Gardener. She was named Sarena, after a maternal aunt who died young. Firekeeper's father was Donal Hunter, a steady man with a gift for the bow and a love of the wdds. They said of him that he understood animals so well it was as if he could speak to them. Firekeeper's birth name was Tamara, after her de-ceased paternal grandmother.”

  Hearing this, the world spun behind Derian's eyes then righted itself. Once he had heard this, the truth seemed obvious. It would explain so much about Firekeeper—he couldn't think of her as Tamara. Another question burst forth before he could school his tongue.

  “Sir, how did you know?”

  “When I was a boy,” King Tedric repUed, unfazed by Derian's effrontery, “Holly Gardener was one of my playmates. I knew her and her sisters well. Firekeeper has the look of Holly's youngest sister Pansy at that same age, though she takes after her father's mother as well. I saw the resemblance nearly at once and confirmed that Sarena had been among Barden's recruits. Tamara—like Blysse—is Usted among the records.”

  Catching Derian's surprised stare the old king chuckled. “We were not so grand then. The Great Houses were still learning to feel their importance. My own mother, Rose, was not from a Great House. Holly's family was related to my mother's—cousins, I think—and came into casde service be-cause they possessed the Green Thumb quitereUably.Their relation to Queen Rose is one reason why they hold their place in perpetuity, for as long as the Thumb continues to manifest in their Une. Thus far it has not failed them. Nor would I banish them if it did. Their knowledge and wisdom means far more than a chance talent.”

  “I wonder,” Derian said, thinking aloud, “if Holly knows… knows, I mean, who Firekeeper is?”

  King Tedric nodded. “I am certain that she suspects, but, like me, she knows that Firekeeper is best preserved by doubt about her origins. The Gardeners have Uttle they could give Firekeeper even if they did claim her. Best then that Fire-keeper keep to her recent alUances. Earl Kestrel is ambitious, but he would never deny basic support to one he has taken as his ward.”