When Tedric raised his head from his hands, decision was written in the aged Unes on his face.
“War it shall be.” He raised his hand to still the cheering that arose at these words. “Not a war of conquest, a different war than any you have suggested. We shall start our way to peace with Bright Bay by offering our support to her in this time of trouble, by giving our support to those who came here to treat for peace.
“When or if Queen Gustin the Fourth comes, she shall encounter us not as enemies, but as those who are willing to maintain her rights against those who would take them. If false alUes are to be unmasked and flouted, then we must be well on the way to making trae ones. Are you with me?”
The cheer that greeted the conclusion of this speech was pure acclaim, so loud and ready that it made that which had answered Prince Newell sound like the thready wail of a newborn kitten. Even as his own voice joined the cry, Derian wondered to find tears on his face, streaming from eyes he had been certain must be bright with joy.
XXIII
MY NATION IS ON THE BRINK OF WAR, Elise thought. Some of our troops have crossed the Barren River and stand between our former, enemy and their Jr? former friend. Others make a tight cordon along the banks of the Barren and scouts patrol the farther reaches lest we miss some hint of invasion while our attention is centered here. My nation is on the brink of war and what do I do? I go shopping for jewelry.
She smiled ruefully, knowing how unjust she was being to herself. Still, there had never been a time in her life that she so regretted being unskilled with a bow or sword and being rather squeamish at the thought of killing another living thing.
Five days had passed since King Tedric made his decision to support Bright Bay if Stonehold enforced its threat to answer Queen Gustin's refusal to speak with their representatives with arms. The necessity had become rapidly apparent, for Queen Gustin's refusal to meet with Stonehold had come a mere two days after Stonehold's initial demand had been made.
Gustin's letter (a copy of which had been sent to King Tedric) simply refused to permit an outside power—no matter how friendly—to give her orders. Her response had been blunt, leaving no room for misinterpretation. Forced to either declare war or have their threats called as a bluff, Stonehold had attacked.
They had been rebuffed for two reasons. One, Good Crossing's walls had held—though they would not hold against another such press. Two, King Tedric had his troops ready to march. As the first volley of arrows had been fired, Bridgeton had opened her broad span to permit Hawk Haven to come to aid Bright Bay.
Stonehold's relatively small army—for Yuci and Grimsel only had those troops which had been withdrawnfromBright Bay's own army—had been unable to take a walled city while being attacked on their flank by a second, stronger force. StiU, they had done considerable damage. Good Crossing's walls were no longer unbreached, forcing Duke AlUster to bring his troops out into thefieldssurrounding the city.
A large, relatively open area to the south and west of Good Crossing had become die acknowledged battleground. Stone-hold had pulled back to the southern edge while the combined forces of Hawk Haven and Bright Bay held the area outside of Good Crossing and along the Barren River.
Elise's own role in all of this martial activity had been comparatively insignificant. While others dashed hither and yon—important in armor, freshened blazons on their shields—she wound bandages or blended ointruents and tinctures for the infirmary with inexpert hands.
Baron Archer had hinted that Elise might do well to return to Eagle's Nest, where she would be safe if Stonehold man-aged to cross the Barren. Elise had pretended not to under-stand those hints and her father had let the matter drop. Doubtless he had come to realize how unjust he had been in hotheadedly branding his daughter a traitor, but he could not press her to leave this sensitive area withoutriskingthat she raise the matter once more.
At least the commanders of Bright Bay's troops had been wise enough to accept the help offered by Hawk Haven. Al-lister Seagleam had taken advantage of his place as senior noble present to become effectively commander in chief of the Bright Bay forces. His first command had been that his officers work with those of Hawk Haven. Yet, despite Duke Allister's efforts to smooth things over, tempers were short and trust shorter still.
Duke Allister's task might have been easier if Lord Tench, the queen's advisor, had remained, but he had departed on a fast horse to advise Queen Gustin as to the situation. It was still uncertain whether Gustin IV would come to Good Crossing at all. On that matter, the ramor mill was most vocal and most contradictory.
Some said the queen was on her way from Silver Whale Cove, armed and armored and leading a host of noble knights, fronting a band of blooded marines. This was a favorite among Bright Bay's troops—never mind that Bright Bay's nobiUty was more comfortable on the command deck of a ship than on horseback and that those marines would be scattered among dozens of ships.
Or the queen was waiting in her castle in the capital, afraid for her life. She would deal with the situation once others had risked life and limb. This was the favorite of the more cynical elements of Hawk Haven's forces.
Or yet, the queen was coming in disguise and on a fast horse, ready to negotiate terms that would keep her nation independent now that Stonehold had actually used its teeth. This was the favorite of those on both sides who had actually thought about the text of Stonehold's demands.
Or the queen had fled to safety in the Isles. The queen was already present but keeping her exact whereabouts secret. The queen was dead or ill or pregnant. The queen didn't matter—what mattered was force of arms upon this one field.
That last was what Elise herself dreaded would prove true. The situation seemed to have progressed beyond what rational words and negotiation could achieve. Armor had been poUshed, swords sharpened, arrows newly fletched. The only seemingly impossible thing in all this chaotic and unpredictable situation was that these would be returned to armory, sheath, and quiver unblooded and unstained.
Her thoughts mnning thus, Elise needed Ninette's tap on her sleeve to alert her when they had reached Wain Cutter's shop. Over the past several days, Elise had grown quite comfortable with Wain. Whereas on theirfirstvisit she had hardly noticed him as a person, now she found the thoughtful calmness of his hound-dog features comfortable in the midst of confusion and the way he rubbed his bald pate when working his way through a problem rather endearing.
Wain had Set to work on their second commission as soon as they had given it to him. His first step had been locating gems of a size and color to match those in Zorana's necklace. He had been lucky with the sapphire and the ruby, but a citrine of the deep cognac shade favored by Lady Melina had been difficult to find, and he had been forced to cut the gem himself. The opal had been gained after negotiations with a rival across the river and then cut down to match the others. The jet he had also cut himself—though from a different piece than that which had supplied Elise's new betrothal pendant.
Although Derian had accompanied Elise thatfirstmorning to explain the new commission to Wain Cutter, the developing military situation had given him no time to join her since. If he was not in some meeting, he was making Fire-keeper buckle on her armor or acting as reserve farrier for Earl Kestrel's command.
Firekeeper was busy as well. Elise rather suspected the king had given the wolf-woman some task or other, for she often vanished for entire half-days. One of the tasks Fire-keeper was almost certainly performing was scouting, and Elise doubted that Firekeeper remained on Hawk Haven's side of the river or that all the reports she delivered were restricted to the ostensible enemy's readiness.
Yet it was Firekeeper who made certain to check with Elise several times a day and Firekeeper who had not for-gotten in the new turmoil that within their own camp, a few long paces away from the pavilion in which Elise herself slept, was one who might be more dangerous than any army.
Now Elise bent her head over the finished necklace that Wain Cutter proudly
spread out upon a piece of white velvet for her inspection.
“I finished it early this morning,” he said, “rose before the dawn. Couldn't get it off my mind, dreamed of it even. I got the feeling that it wanted to be made and that I shouldn't be holding it up.”
Elise nodded comprehension, though she didn't really understand such obsession.
“It's lovely,” she said honestly, admiring the gentle curve of silver with the five diamond-shaped pendants hanging down, “but the silver looks just the slightest bit scratched.”
“Patina,” Wain explained hastily, mbbing his pate in quick circles as if polishing the baldness. “That's what that's called. It makes a piece of jewelry look not so new. Soft metals like silver and gold often acquire a patina after they've been worn for a time.”
He colored and Elise knew why. If you were asked to duplicate a famous—even notorious—piece of jewelry by people who swore you into secrecy, it wasn't a great jump for even a slow mind to guess that maybe a substitution was planned. And Wain Cutter was not a slow man at all. He hurried on, talking fast as if to cover an awkward pause in the conversation that hadn't yet occurred.
“Of course, if you're wanting it looking bright and new, I can shine it up and buff out the patina.”
Elise smiled at him. “No, the patina is perfect. You're right. It gives the piece the look of an old family heirloom rather than something commissioned by that market woman who discovered she was the only heir to a duke.”
There was a popular comic song about that very situation. For generations tavem drunks and small children alike had enjoyed reeling off the long list of the things the market woman had ordered when she had discovered that she was to be a “duchess fine.”
The words of one verse rose unbidden from Elise's memory and she had to resist the urge to hum along with the jaunty tune:
A sweeping gown of fine brocade,
A long-maned, elegant pacing jade,
An ivory board on which games were played,
For these all in future coin she paid,
That soon to be duchess fine!
But resist Elise did, for Wain was unhooking the sapphire pendant and showing her its catch.
“Getting these right was the biggest trick,” he was saying, “for you told me that each pendant needed to be removable with some ease, yet remain firm set the rest of the time. I appreciated those sketches you made for me.”
Elise nodded acknowledgment. It hadn't been at all easy to see how the pendants were held in place and had meant spending far more time in Lady Melina's company than she had desired. Fortunately, Lady Melina, like everyone else, was eager to demonstrate her support of King Tedric's war and had spent many hours in the infirmary.
There Elise's persistence had been rewarded. She had contrived to tangle into Lady Melina's necklace a stray end of linen thread from the bandage strips she was cutting, snagging both the opal and mby pendants. Greatly annoyed, Lady Melina had rebuked her sharply, then permitted her to un-tangle the mess to make amends.
Afterward, Elise had nearly fled the infirmary to sketch the details before she forgot them. She didn't doubt that Lady Melina believed she scurried off to sob at the harshness of Her Ladyship's words, but in the interest of the greater good, Elise could live with a little loss of dignity.
“Very fine work, absolutely marvelous,” she said, meaning every word of her praise. “I am amazed you could do such complex work from an amateur's sketch.”
“There's a logic in it, my lady,” Wain said complacently, “that guides a crafter through the job. Your sketch was a map, but my skill taught me to make sense of it.”
“Then the necklace is ready for me to take?” Elise asked.
“It is.” With a final proud and affectionate glance at his creation, Wain tucked it into a little bag of dark red velvet.
Elise paid him in a mixture of credit tokens, some bearing the Archer mark, others that of the Eagle, still others the local guild mark. Before he had been called to other duties, Derian had changed the Kestrel tokens he and Firekeeper possessed into local marks, thereby muddying the trail should any wonder why Lady Elise had spent such a great sum. Some Archer marks were necessary, however, for Elise had excused her frequent visits on the grounds that Waiii was making her a bracelet to bring back to Lady Aurella.
Wain gave her the bracelet as well, a pretty thing of cut gemstones set upon a heavy silver band. He had adapted it from a design he had been working on before their new com-missions had distracted him. It was complex enough to excuse Elise's visits and yet not too expensive for her already strained purse.
Thanking the jeweler, Elise forced herself to visit several more shops before returning to camp. There she settled her-self to rolling bandages and listening to the anxious gossip of the noncombatants while waiting for Firekeeper to make an appearance.
The wolf-woman glided into Elise's paviUon late that night, long after Elise had snuffed out her candle.
“You have it,” she whispered after she had woken Elise.
“I do.”
“And you will put sleeping herbs into Lady Melina's food and that of Opal and the nurse?”
“I'll try.” Even though she was whispering, Elise could hear the note of doubt in her own voice.
“You must,” Firekeeper urged. “When you do this leave this stone…”
Elise felt something flat and vaguely oval-shaped set next to her on the cot.
“… on the ground outside of your pavilion just the other side of your sleeping. I will find it there and know that we may hope that they are sleeping deep.”
“I will,” Elise whispered. “It may take a few days to find an opportunity.”
“I know. That's why I bring the stone. Good luck. I know you will be brave.”
There was a faint stirring of air and Elise knew she was alone again. For a long time she lay awake, staring into the darkness, and wondering if she was indeed the least bit brave.
ALLISTER SEAGLEAM KNEW SOMETHING that no one else knew. He knew which of the rumors about Queen Gustin IV was true. He knew, but the knowing brought him little comfort. Tench had returned the evening before—cautious, worried, little Lord Tench who was Lord Tench rather than Tench Clark because of his service to Her Majesty, first as her secretary when she was Crown Princess Valora, later as a trusted member of her diplomatic corps.
And with him Lord Tench had carried letters: letters commanding generals to hold fast and obey Allister Seagleam as they would her royal self; letters to other nobles in the entourage who might not think this a good idea; letters to Allister's children telling them to obey their father and be the firm deck under his feet in this tossing storm. Lastly there was a letter to Allister himself telling him much the same and assuring him of the queen's support.
This was the letter for public eyes, for possible spies. Al-lister Seagleam doubted that even Lord Tench had read it—though he was certainly privy to the contents of the others. Gustin IV had left nothing to chance, however. This letter was triply sealed and encoded. The key to this code had been given to Allister by Gustin herself when he had departed Silver Whale Cove to meet with King Tedric. She swore that no one else knew it and Allister believed her. From a small girl, Gustin had been good with numbers and puzzles. She was quite capable of constructing and employing a code without any assistance.
Once he had decoded the letter, it read:
“Dear Cousin,
“I wish I could come to your side — and indeed to the forefront of this battle that has been thrust upon our people. Sadly, I cannot. What Stonehold accuses us of may indeed be true as they see things. There are secrets known only to the monarchs of Bright Bay. To share them even with you, cousin, would be treason. If in some mysterious fashion Stonehold has learned one of these secrets, I certainly cannot confirm the rightness or wrongness of their knowledge by rushing to Good Crossing at their command as might a kitchen maid called to task by cook for breaking a platter.
“So here I remain
. Soon you will hear tales that pirate activity on the coast forces me to remain in the capital. Part at least will be true. Here I must remain until either you come home victorious or Stonehold's generals batter down my door.
“Tench tells me that King Tedric has offered his alliance for the nonce and that you in my name have accepted it. I shall support you in this, even before those who whine about your foreign blood. They are asses. You did the only thing you could—accept a new ally when an old turned against you.
“Standing fast is only part of your duty. You must drive Stonehold out. I realize that military command was never your ambition, but I know you well. You have a fair mind and will weigh the advice given to you by those who do know that art before deciding a course of action.
“As soon as this war is resolved, I will reward you as you deserve. For now, I fear you will need to settle for my thanks.”
The formalities which ended the letter were fluff and vanity. AlUster stared at the missive for quite a long while before folding it into thirds, smoothing it flat, and tucking it into the interior pocket of his waistcoat. Then he headed outside to attend to the duties assigned to him, not altogether certain that Queen Gustin IV, guardian of dark secrets, was as worthy of his loyalty as she clearly believed she was.
IN THE MIDST OF THIS MARTIAL PREPARATION Lady Elise Archer, heiress to a barony earned by her grand-father in battle, went into the fray herself, but her battle-ground was a dinner party and her weapon a flask of fine-ground powder.
It had been easy enough to arrange the party. Ever since the entry of Duke Allister Seagleam and his brood into the competition for the throne of Hawk Haven, the alliance between the family of Rolfston Redbriar with that of Baron Archer had been strained. Nor had Jet Shield's failure to behave as a properly betrothed young man should helped the sitution.
So when Lady Elise had chosen not to spend overmuch time with her betrothed, she had been well within her rights. Equally so, when she invited her betrothed and his family, including sisters and father, to dine with her in the sumptuous Archer pavilion, they were not likely to refuse.
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