Wolf's Eyes

by Jane Lindskold

  Despite the cruel thrust of her words, Elise delivered them in a tone so detached that it was almost clinical. She might be Hazel Healer diagnosing what herb poultice would best treat a rash.

  “Well, Father,” she said when Ivon Archer did not reply, “what is your wish?”

  When she turned her gaze to him at last, she found that he was studying her, neither angry nor pleased, but with a care that she never recalled seeing directed to her.

  “I think,” Ivon Archer said, “that disowning you would be foolish. Remember before you grow too triumphant, that it remains an option.”

  “I won't forget,” Elise said, her inner calm wavering slightly. “But I also cannot forget the tone in which you called me a traitor and then dismissed me like a small child. I am your heir, just a year short of my majority. I think I am owed more consideration.”

  “Perhaps,” her father said gmdgingly. “For now, I lay no task on you. You retain your freedom and your title.”

  “I won't thank you,” she said, “because both are mine, not to be taken from me by anyone—not even you. As for Earl Kestrel's entourage, I will continue to visit with them. If I learn anything that I am not expressly requested to keep in confidence, I will be happy to share it with you.”

  “Thank you,” Ivon said, a spark of last night's anger lighting his eyes, “for your gracious condescension.”

  She thought she heard him mutter, “You little bitch,” but his voice was low enough that she could pretend to have heard nothing.

  “Well,” Baron Archer said, brushing imaginary dirt from his trouser leg, “I have duties to perform. May I escort you back to camp on my way?”

  “I would be honored,” she said, offering him a neutral smile and resting her hand on his arm. Nothing further was said during the interminable length of that walk.

  LATER THAT MORNING WHEN ELISE met Firekeeper and Derian she gave an abbreviated account of the events both following the ball and this morning. When she finished, Derian commented:

  “And the odd thing is, the king made no such promises as everyone seems to imagine. He only wanted to hear my opinion—as a commoner—on various issues.”

  “Including the succession,” Elise said teasingly.

  Derian looked with unwonted seriousness at the mby ring on his finger. “I was asked not to say.”

  Elise nodded and changed the subject. “I'm amazed that you had the courage to demand Lady Melina's necklace as your reward. That was clever.”

  “It didn't work, though,” Derian replied. “Still, I've been thinking about what the king did say. I don't know if he meant it as a hint, but his idea of our having an identical necklace made was brilUant. It solves the problem of Lady Melina missing her own.”

  “I suppose Wain Cutter could do the work,” Elise agreed. “This should actually be easier. StiU, even if we got it, how would we work the trade?”

  Firekeeper offered, “I could do it. Every night I go among those tents. Blind Seer terrifies the dogs. None even bark any longer. Get the necklace. I will trade it.”

  “You've been skulking among the tents?” Elise asked, amused yet vaguely embarrassed. What might Firekeeper have seen or heard—especially before Jet lost interest in her?

  “I have,” the wolf-woman said. “All through the camp I go. Sometimes I learn things. Mostly, I just walk and put into my memory scents and sounds.”

  Derian added, “I believe she can do it, Elise, but to pull this off we need as exact a description of the necklace as we can get. Wain Cutter said that he can work: from a verbal description, thank the Horse, but a sketch would be better. Did your young lady's training include such skiUs?”

  “It did,” Elise said, “though my teacher never praised me highly. Still, I can manage something. Also, Melina likes to go into town and she's never without that necklace. Wain Cutter could easily get a good look at her then.”

  “That's going to mean trusting him,” Derian cautioned.

  “He's not stupid,” Elise retorted. “That necklace is famous. He may well guess without our admitting precisely which necklace we want copied.”

  Derian nodded. “Very well. You get the description. I'll sound out Wain when I go into town today to have my new ring sized.”

  He touched it almost reverently. Elise hid a grin.

  “You're a bit overwhelmed, aren't you?” she asked.

  “More than a bit.” Derian looked at her squarely. “I reaUze I'm not the first to be given one of these, not even the first common bom. King Tedric has always had counselors from among his subjects. But you're born to such honors. You can't imagine what this will mean to my family. My mother is likely to insist on my keeping the ring in the family's ancestral shrine when I'm not wearing it. The king's tmst is a great honor.”

  Elise suddenly realized that she had been being a bit of a snob, a trait she had come to despise in others.

  “It is a great honor,” she said firmly, “and your parents will be justified in their pride. King Tedric chooses widely but never foolishly.”

  Firekeeper shook her head, as if wondering that this much attention was being paid to a shiny thing with no virtue as a tool.

  “Talk does not get us any further with necklaces,” she reminded them. “Elise must learn the look of the necklace in perfect. Derian and I will talk to Wain Cutter. Then I will talk to Doc.”

  “Why talk with Doc?” Derian asked.

  “He has powders to bring sleep. Lady Melina not sleep alone. Sometime her maid sleep in her tent, sometime her husband, too. On the night of the change, Elise must give all some powder to sleep.”

  “I thought,” Derian teased, “that no one ever hears you when you go among the tents.”

  Firekeeper stared at him as if he was an idiot.

  “This is important, Fox Hair, like the first hunt in spring after winter starving. We take no risks just as the One does not hunt alone when there is a pack.”

  Elise nodded, suddenly somber, quietly afraid of the role she must play but agreeing with Firekeeper's wisdom.

  “She's right. We don't dare take any risk. My relatives may think the matter of the succession is settled, but we know how tenuous it is. King Tedric doesn't know what we know. It is our duty to make certain that a sorceress cannot rale from behind the throne.”

  Derian curled his fist tighdy as if daring the ring to slip free. Elise thought she knew what he was thinking. So much rested on their shoulders. Were they really up to the challenge?

  ALTHOUGH NOT EXPRESSLY PRIVY to the counsels of his fellow nobles, Prince Newell shared their indignation andfrustratedanger. He'd actually been enjoying that thrice-cursed ball. The food and drink had been excellent, and many of the women fair. Since his ambitions reached far higher than marriage into the family of Allister Seagleam, he hadn't wasted his time dancing with eleven-year-old girls.

  Just for the fun of renewing his acquaintance with Lady Blysse he had asked her for a dance. She had accepted, but he could feel her dislike of him in the lightness of her fingers on his whenever the ritualized motions demanded that they touch. By the end he was rather sorry he hadn't asked her for a waltz.

  Other women, even Lady Zorana after he whispered a few sympathetic words in her ear, were far less reluctant to dance with a prince. Unable to continue theflirtationwith Zorana in such a public place, Newell had been in the process of cultivating the acquaintance of the pretty daughter of a local silversmith. She was intimating that she was willing to do more than dance when the ripple of gossip through the room alerted Newell to a new element in the game. He had turned in time to see Derian Carter, dressed like a gendeman in an outfit that must have set his patron back a good bit, mounting the steps of the dais from which King Tedric watched the festivities.

  Mindful of his health, the king had taken part only in the Star Waltz which had opened the entertainment. Appropriately, his partner had been Pearl Oyster, the plump but still winsome wife of Allister Seagleam. Inviting everyone to continue on, King Tedric then
had made his way up to the makeshift throne that had been prepared for him and indul-gently surveyed the others at their pleasure. Needless to say, just about everyone who was anyone made an excuse to mount the few steps and speak with him, but only young Carter had been invited.

  That invitation ended the evening's pleasure for Newell. The lovely young thing he had been flirting with previously now held as much interest for him as might a painted doll. When King Tedric chose to close the evening by dancing with Lady Blysse, any joy Newell might have salvaged from seeing his Hawk Haven competitors equally crashed vanished.

  Only Allister Seagleam seemed untroubled by this turn of events and that was quite understandable. The king favoring Lady Blysse did not mean an end of his hopes. At fifteen or so, she was a good age to be wed to either of his sons. Newell had noted that both Shad and Tavis had taken their turns partnering the foundling. Of course, they had each danced with all of the other eligible contenders for a polite political marriage and a few tentative friendships seemed to have begun.

  During one of the intermissions, Purcel Archer, Sapphire Shield, and Shad Oyster got into a heated discussion about the various merits of combat on land and on sea. Jet flirted shamelessly with Minnow and Anemone, not precisely forsaking Elise, for the manners of a grand ball insisted that an engaged couple mingle with everyone and not remain selfishly absorbed in each other. Tavis Oyster apparently found an unexpected friend in Nydia Trueheart. When Newell had drifted near—ostensibly to get a new glass of wine—they had been discussing the merits of various New Kelvinese poets.

  But any hopes the parents of these sprigs might have entertained had been dashed when King Tedric chose Lady Blysse for his dance partner.

  Newell's fury that next morning was not mediated when he considered how hopeless his attempts to discover a way to distract or disable Lady Blysse had been. Her unwarranted dislike of him had made it impossible for him to chat her up and thereby drop a hint that she go hither or yon so as to be neatly away while NeweU's lackeys pulverized Jet. Her illiteracy had robbed him of that favorite tool of conspirators the anonymous note. That damned wolf which shadowed her whenever she was not in company—and often when she was—made it unlikely that he could simply have her hit over the head and put out of the way.

  As a last resort, Newell had taken advantage of the crowded ball to sUp a tincture of valerian (a preparation known to encourage drowsiness) into Lady Blysse's fruit juice. Raising the cup to her Ups, she had suddenly wrinkled her nose and dropped the entire thing—cup and aU—into the nearest waste bin.

  So the morning following the ball, foiled and frustrated, Newell sent a note to Lady Zorana asking if he might pay a call in private. Before going to meet her he summoned Keen and Rook to him.

  Without preamble, Newell growled, “I've been going about this all wrong. Why should I try to frame Lady Blysse and rely on others to condemn her? She needs to die.”

  Keen cocked an eyebrow.

  Rook simply said: “Indeed, sir.”

  “Yes. This afternoon, I'm going to take Lady Zorana for a ride.”

  Keen, always one for a double entendre, grinned slightly. Ignoring the other man's smirk, Newell continued, “Once I have Zorana deep in the woods, one of you—Keen, I think, since no one knows he works for me—is going to kidnap her.

  “Keen, when you attack, I will appear to defend Zorana. I'm afraid I'll have to take a spUt Up or black eye or my defense won't look convincing. Just don't hurt me so much that I can't join in the battle if the Stoneholders come through. That's more important than any Uttle mischief we may do here.”

  Keen nodded.

  “After a bit, I'll feign to be knocked out,” Newell went on. “You take the lady. I'll go for her help.”

  His henchmen knew better than to interrupt, so Newell surged on.

  “I'll go directly to King Tedric, suggest that we keep the incident quiet. If he doesn't suggest that we enlist Lady Blysse, I will. She is certain to go tearing off without any more backup than her damned wolf. When they reach wherever you're holding Zorana, shoot Blysse with an arrow or two. Don't let her or that beast get close. Then flee in apparent panic, leaving your prisoner behind. I'll come later with a rescue party. Questions?”

  “Where should I take Lady Zorana?” Keen asked.

  “There must be a woodsman's hut or something. If there isn't, tie her to a tree. Knock her out if you want. At least gag her to keep her from screaming. Just give her to under-stand that you have someone delivering a ransom note and she'll be freed when you get your money.”

  Keen nodded again, his eyes shining.

  “Wouldn't it be better,” Rook asked, more willing to question, secure in his position as senior aide, “to kidnap someone like Lady Elise? Lady Blysse likes her. I don't think Lady Blysse cares for Lady Zorana one way or another.”

  “Who she cares for hardly matters,” Newell snapped. “She'll do the king's bidding. Besides, I don't know if I could get Elise to go with me. She's been a stuck-up little bitch since she was just a snip, never could take even a tease. Even if Elise would go with me, it would look suspicious. Zorana, however… We go a long way back.”

  Keen chuckled. “It'll even give you a good excuse for losing the fight. Right, boss? I mean, caught with your pants down and all.”

  Newell glowered at this joke at his expense, but he had to admit that Keen had a point.

  “Good thought,” he agreed reluctandy. “I had wondered how to justify my being defeated by one man.”

  Keen laughed. “Don't worry, boss. Fill be implying that there are two or three more around.”

  “Disguise yourself,” Newell ordered. “I don't want Zorana killed, only roughed up a little so this threat will seem convincing. Rook, you stay completely out of sight. Both of you bring bows, swords, and knives. When Lady Blysse comes to the rescue, I want her very dead.”

  Rook nodded. “I had appropriate tools laid by against our proposed assault on Jet Shield. Since you have yet to invite Lady Zorana, we have some time to prepare. I'll go ahead secretly and find a defensible place to hide the lady. I don't think we'll need to tell you where in advance.”

  “No. I'm trusting that Lady Blysse's nose—or at least her wolf's nose—will lead her there.”

  “Then, unless you have further orders, I am gone.”

  “Go. I will send Keen after you if for some reason Lady Zorana is unable to join me.”

  That lady, however, proved more than amendable to a ride in the countryside and dismissed her personal attendant to mind young Nydia. Zorana fussed a bit, making up a basket with light refreshments, and Newell was content to wait, knowing that this would give his men the time they needed to prepare.

  “I had thought,” Zorana said when they were safely away from listening ears, “that the day Elise became engaged to Jet was the worst in my life.”

  “Last night must have been terrible,” Newell said, soothing his own anger by pouring salt on Zorana's wounds, “seeing the king so publicly favoring someone other than one of your own.”

  “You don't know a mother's grief and frustration!” Zorana replied dramatically. “I do everything I can for them. I even nursed hopes that tonight would be the realization of my dreams. Purcel was visiting quite nicely with one of Duke Allister's sons. I thought such decorous behavior far better than the opportunistic flirtation in which Jet Shield was indulging. Certainly, Duke Allister would be more interested in a proven warrior who can maturely discuss men's business than in a young rogue.”

  “Certainly,” Newell murmured, allowing his spirited red roan to match the brisk pace of Lady Zorana's dapple grey. The dapple grey seemed to have caught some of her rider's feisty mood and had to be discouraged from breaking into a trot.

  “And then just as I was allowing myself to feel hopeful—and encouraging Nydia in her friendship with young Tavis—then that Derian Carter was summoned to the dais.”

  Newell Ustened with half an ear as Zorana recounted the events of the night b
efore, noticing her difference in emphasis. Again he was struck by how her ambition overwhelmed her good sense. How deeply had she embraced his Uttle fantasy that the mere age of her children made them the most suitable matches for those of AlUster Seagleam! How eager had she been to ignore how many political matches these days were being made without due consideration for the relative ages of bride and groom.

  King Tedric had indicated his disapproval of such matches but not expressly forbidden them, so dukes and duchesses paired up their available children like toy soldiers ranked on the nursery hearth rag.

  Thinking of deep embraces and matches stirred brutal excitement both in Newell's groin and within the darkest reaches of his mind. They were well away from both camp and town now. Even while gabbling away, Zorana accepted his lead toward the forests maintained as a game preserve on the fringes of Hope. Once they were deep within its shelter, privacy was virtually guaranteed.

  Virtually. Zorana had been too interested both in her woes and in her desire for privacy to notice the figure that had been shadowing them all along. A man on foot could easily pace a walking horse, especially if he didn't wish to get too close. As requested by his master before they departed, Keen had remained near.

  Seeing a sheltered glen near an attractively babbling brook, Newell suggested to Zorana that they “let the horses have a drink and a rest.” Their easy pace hadn't even sweated the animals, but Zorana agreed with a coy smile.

  Tying their mounts to a tree, Newell loosened their girths and removed their bridles, pleased with the glade. There could hardly be a more ideal place for a tryst—or an assault. Trees and shrubs provided both shade and a screen from observation, but warm, green sunlight filtered through. The ground underfoot was thick with springy moss. When Zorana took a rolled blanket from behind her saddle, Newell smiled. It was rather pleasant to be the seduced instead of the seducer from time to time.

  Excusing himself for a call of nature, he walked into the woods. As he expected, Keen met him almost at once.