King Tedric himself held the lamp that lit the medic's work and Elise did not need to see BUnd Seer pressed flat on the ground near the patient's head, whimpering with rather more pathos than one would expect from such an enormous beast, to know that the woman facedown on the floor was Firekeeper.
The crowd parted to let Elise through. She moved immediately to Sir Jared's side and asked:
“What can I do?”
“Hold this open,” he said, not even glancing at her. “I need to make certain it's clean before I stitch it up.”
Elise grasped the separators as she had been taught earlier that day, holding open a deep and ugly slice in Firekeeper's left thigh. While Jared sloshed something pungent into the raw opening Elise glanced at Firekeeper, but though the wound must have bumed horribly, the younger woman did not stir.
Firekeeper's eyes were not so much closed as not open. A faint white line could be seen beneath the shuttered lid. An ugly wound in her back near her left side testified that a mere leg wound alone hadn't felled the wolf-woman so profoundly. Her armor and clothing had been partially removed, the sword cut cleaned, but little else had been done.
“Firekeeper saved my Ufe,” King Tedric explained, his voice quavering. “Prince Newell came. I believe he hoped to shock my heart into bursting, but failing that I think he would have taken more direct means. I don't know how Firekeeper knew, but she came charging in here—Newell had sent everyone away, saying he had something for my ears only and who was I to doubt him? There are state secrets he knew because of his marriage to Lovella.”
“Knew?” Elise asked, letting the wound close when Jared signaled and then holding the edges in position so he could stitch.
“He's dead,” the king said. “Firekeeper killed him even as he stabbed her in the back.”
“Didn't anyone try to help her?” Elise asked indignantly.
“I was unable to do so.” The king sounded as if he was apologizing. “Newell came closer to bringing on a heart at-tack than he will ever know. When the guards came in, I could not get the breath to speak. All I could do was keep them from interfering. Sir Jared, how does your patient?”
“There's not much I can do about the back wound,” Jared said, his hands busy. “I think the sword blade missed most of the vitals, but I don't like the blood on her lips. A lung may have been nicked. StiU, my talent may help keep internal damage from worsening.”
Blind Seer moaned and sniffed Firekeeper's hair.
Elise asked, “But this on her leg doesn't look like a sword cut.”
“Arrow,” Jared said briefly.
“I did it,” Lady Zorana said, coming forth and taking the lantern from King Tedric's hand. “Sit, Uncle. Do you want Lady Blysse's valor to end for nothing?”
The king reluctantly obeyed, leaning forward to keep watch over the proceedings. Zorana went on to Elise:
“Lady Blysse came charging up and without any expla-nation insisted on going into the tent. We told her the king was in conference, but she wasn't having anything of it.”
“So you shot her?” Elise heard the incredulity in her voice.
“You may be comfortable with feral women and wolves,” Zorana said in angry defense, “but some of us are not.”
“She's also Lady Blysse and has lived with us for moon-spans now!” Elise protested.
Sir Jared glanced up. “Elise, please fight with your aunt later. I need you now.”
Elise complied, but her anger didn't diminish. Only later would she calm enough to wonder if Purcel's death might have so shaken his mother that sane judgment had failed her.
At last, Sir Jared lifted his red-stained hands. Unasked, Elise poured water for him from a carafe, noticing for the first time how everything portable seemed to have been thrown about. Her gaze fell on Prince Newell's corpse, on the ugly red mark on the side of his face, and she thought she knew how the mess had been made.
Sir Jared said, “Your Majesty, I don't think Firekeepei should be moved except perhaps from the floor onto a cot. I'll need to commandeer your pavilion.”
“It is hers,” the king said. “I would remain here to guard her, but I fear I have a war to fight.”
Elise realized that King Tedric knew nothing of the fire to the west. “Sire, if you're strong enough, you should go out and see what messages may be waiting. Just before I came here it seemed as if the enemy camp might be on fire.”
“Lend me an arm, Opal,” the king said immediately, turning to his grandniece. Elise noted absently that he didn't seem surprised by her news. “I'm strong enough if I have someone to lean on.”
“The rest of you,” Jared snapped, clearly expecting to be obeyed, “get out. Two of you take the corpse with you. Get me a cot, clean bandages, and more water.”
The gathered nobles, even Lady Zorana, obeyed. Zorana, however, paused long enough to hang the lantern from one of the pavilion beams.
“Whatever you think,” she said to Elise. “I do regret my part in this. I thought I was right—that's all I want you to realize—but I was wrong.”
Elise nodded. When Zorana turned to go, Elise said to Sir Jared, “I'm not leaving.”
“I didn't mean you,” he said. “You're medical staff.”
Warmed by his confident assumption that she had a right to be there, Elise confided, “I would have never thought I could do this work. I hate hawking or hunting, get all squeamish. My father is quite fed up with me.”
“Squeamish?” Sir Jared shrugged. “Not when it counts. I've found you a steady assistant. It's a pity you're to be a baroness. I'd like to see what would happen if you had further training.”
Elise raised an eyebrow. “There is no law against a baroness learning medicine. It could be quite useful.”
He coughed. “I apologize.”
Two guards came in then with the requested cot and gear. As they were setting it up, there was a shrill, avian cry from above.
“Elation,” Elise said. “Then Derian…”
The tent flap all but flew open and the redhead dashed in. He was sweaty, reeking of smoke and horses. Blind Seer greeted him with another whine.
“Is she going to be allright?”Derian asked, flinging him-self on the mg next to firekeeper.
Jared said, “I hope so, but it's too early to tell. She's taken several bad wounds and lost a lot of blood.”
Derian groaned. “I tried to get here faster. We heard Blind Seer howl, but we were still quite a ways off. Then we had trouble getting through the camp. Everyone was running here and there—a new push was on—fresh soldiers were needed. I nearly got hauled out there myself, but Elation kept diving at everyone who came close. What happened?”
They told him as, with his help, they moved Firekeeper onto the cot. Blind Seer promptly positioned himself directly under his pack mate and no one dared try to move him. The fierce desperation in the wolf's blue eyes was more eloquent than words.
“Poor guy,” Derian said, doing what no one else had dared and actually patting die wolf on the head. “She's going to make it, fellow. After everything Firekeeper has survived she isn't going to let a couple of pompous noble-bom asses kill her.”
He glanced at Elise. “I'm not going to apologize for calling your aunt pompous.”
“Just as long as you don't include me in that assessment of the nobility.” Elise forced a laugh.
“Not you,” Derian promised. “I don't even think it.”
“Now that we've got her on the cot,” Sir Jared said, “we should get the rest of Firekeeper's clothes off of her. Lady Elise can…”
Derian intermpted. “I've seen Firekeeper naked plenty of times. I think the minx used to do it on purpose to make me blush. Elise can chaperon if you want, but I'm here and I'm not leaving.”
Jared patted the younger man. “Why do you all think I'm trying to get rid of you? I'm grateful for your help. Do you think you could tell BUnd Seer not to bite us? Firekeeper may cry out as we move her.”
“I think he understands,” Der
ian said, taking out his knife and carefidly beginning to cut away leather and fabric. “I just wish we could understand him better. He could tell us how Firekeeper knew the king was in trouble.”
To his complete surprise, Blind Seer crept out from under the cot and, going to the door of the pavilion, barked once sharply. They heard Elation cry response; then the wolf re-turned. To everyone's astonishment, the peregrine falcon was walking with deliberate care after him.
She shrilled softly, almost cooing as she inspected Fire-keeper. The wolf, busy fitting himself back under the cot, gave a low bark. Elation came to Derian and tugged at the cuff of his riding breeches with her beak.
“No,” the young man replied. “I will not follow you. I'm staying with Firekeeper. Do you want someone to go some-where with you?”
The peregrine drew her entire body up, then down, bob-bing her torso in a fair facsimile of a nod.
Derian stepped to the door of the pavilion.
“Guard, get me Valet, Earl Kestrel's manservant. If you can't get him, I'll settle for Ox or Race Forester.”
When it seemed that the guard might protest, Sir Jared snapped, “Do it!”
Derian returned to his task, saying to the falcon in passing, “Just a couple minutes. I'd have sent you after them, but I think you need someone to explain.”
Grinning rather weakly, he looked at his friends. “You try tending to Firekeeper for nearly five moon-spans and see if you're not talking to animals at the end.”
Elise saw the tears that filled Derian's hazel eyes as he looked at the unconscious woman, and politely pretended not to notice.
Valet arrived almost immediately. Elise noted that the usu-ally immaculate manservant was nearly as grubby as Derian.
“That guard said you desired my presence,” Valet said politely.
Derian nodded. “Follow Elation. I think she knows where something important is. I don't know more. Can you go in safety?”
Valet nodded. “The battle is over. The fire demoralized Stonehold's troops. To their credit, they didn't like fighting soldiers who were in many cases their friends. General Grimsel—the big blond woman—had been killed, eariier. Not much was needed to break their morale. General Yuci sur-rendered to Duke AUister a few moments ago.”
The rash of relief that filled Elise was so powerful that her hands started shaking. Biting down on her lip, she steadied herself and continued with the delicate task of removing Firekeeper's undergarments without leaving fibers in the wounds that might later encourage infection and scarring.
“So it's over,” Derian said for all of them.
“Not yet,” Sir Jared replied with the sad wisdom of one who had been through fighting before. “That battle is ended. Now we need to know if the war is over as well.”
XXVII
ALLISTER SEAGLEAM BRUSHED PEARL'S hands away from straightening the bandage that still wrapped his head.
“Enough, dear,” he saidfirmly.”I realize it is hardly approved head gear for an audience with the queen, but the doctors say I must keep the wound Ughtiy covered. There is too much risk of infection, especially here where the horses attract so many flies.”
Pearl folded her arms over her chest, just slightly pouting. “I only wanted you to look your best for your meeting with Queen Gustin, Allister. This is the first time in the two days since her arrival that she has granted you a private audience. Given all you have done for her, that is hardly just!”
Allister patted his wife's hand, thinking that for an ar-ranged marriage really this one had worked out remarkably well.
Pearl was actually concerned about the slight to him, not because it was a slight to herself or to her family, but because of her fondness for him. How many couples could claim that after twenty-two years of marriage and four children?
“My dear,” he said, bending to kiss her round cheek, “Queen Gustin wants to play down her debt to me. You cannot have forgotten her reception when she arrived at the head of her marines, can you?”
“And I hope I never will!” Pearl laughed, her good humor restored. Then she frowned. “Though perhaps the townsfolk throwing mbbish at her from the walls was a bit much.”
Allister nodded. “It was, but who could blame them? They are simple folk who place their trast in the Crown. This was not the first battle fought in the shadows of those walls—only the biggest.”
“And the only one where Hawk Haven fought beside us rather than against us,” Pearl mused. “Yes, when an enemy turns out to be a friend, is it any surprise that late-coming friends suddenly seem like enemies?”
“No, it is not.” Allister paused thoughtfully. “My dear, what I want to say to the queen today may put me on the list of those she sees as enemies. One word from you and I will hold my tongue.”
Pearl raised an eyebrow. “That bad?”
“That bad.”
“Have you spoken to the children about it? Shad, at least, is old enough that you should consider his opinion before doing something that will affect his future.”
“I have. He encourages me.”
As he should, Allister thought, for if I pull this off it will make his fortune.
“And have you spoken with Tavis?”
“A little. Right now he is still adjusting to the realities of war. He did not fight, but in acting as runner he saw plenty of bloodshed. The concept that tme heroism and trae horror can and do exist together is a large one for a romantic fifteen-year-old to grasp.”
Pearl nodded. “It is. I had wondered at him spending so much time with the soldiers all of a sudden. At the ball he avoided them; now he sits by their firesides for hours, Ustening to stories and asking questions.”
A discreet knock at the door reminded Allister that the time had come for him to depart for his appointment.
“Do you really want me to do this?” he asked, putting on his tricorn at a rather rakish angle over his bandage.
“Perhaps you should tell me just what it is you plan to do,” Pearl sighed, but something in her shrewd gaze made him think she had guessed.
Allister turned back from the door he had been about to open and said softly, “I plan to tell Queen Gustin that she must make me her heir and, if I predecease her, that my surviving eldest must take over as crown prince.”
Pearl stood on tiptoe to kiss him, her eyes very bright. “You saved her kingdom. What else would be reward enough?”
But as Allister went out the door he could not fail to see that Pearl was trembling and knew that she feared she would never see him again. Queen Gustin was not always a just monarch—only a successful one.
After the second battle of what people were calling AUister's War, the grateful town of Good Crossing had made much of her defenders. Needing a secure command center, Allister had accepted the loan of a mansionfroma real-estate speculator who had imagined all his investments torched and battered by Stonehold's invading army.
Flanked by his bodyguards, Duke Allister trotted briskly down the mansion's broad, stone front steps. Cheering greeted him the moment he passed into the sight of the people gathered outside his temporary headquarters.
Day and night, idlers waited outside the place, hoping for a glimpse of the Hedge Child, the valiant commander in chief. Winning the battle had made Allister a hero—nor had it hurt the duke's prestige that both himself and his eldest son had been injured fighting in defense of Bright Bay.
However, what had helped Allister Seagleam's reputation the most was that Queen Gustin IV had not been present for either battle. When rumors had spread that she had not been fighting pirates but had been within a day's ride of Good Crossing for several days before thefightingbegan, escorted by a host of blooded marines drawn from her best ships, Allister's reputation had soared even as hers had plummeted.
Waving to his admirers, Allister accepted a hand up into the carriage that would rattle him through the cobble streets to where Queen Gustin resided in sumptuous quarters in the Toll House. In the carriage, he made casual comments that he
could not remember a moment later, his thoughts focused on the meeting to come.
It was not as if he hadn't seen the queen in the days since her arrival. There had been countless meetings: with King Tedric and his officers, with General Yuci of Stonehold, with members of the local guildhalls. During all of them Queen Gustin had been faultlessly courteous, deferring to her cousin's greater knowledge of the situation while making clear that she was his ruler and that she believed that his triumph was best seen within the context of her reign.
Allister supposed it had been that attitude—that combined with the current situation regarding King Tedric's own heir—which had made him consider what he would demand as reward for his services. He knew that he was being foolhardy, but he also knew that he could not go back to his former situation. It had taken him over forty years to be something more than a failed pledge. The need to continue building the bridge between Hawk Haven and Bright Bay was a desperate fire within him, hot in breast and mind.
Cheering admirers ran alongside his carriage and greeted him as he dismounted from it at the Toll House. Even while acknowledging their good wishes, Allister knew that those noisy praises were doing him no good with the queen.
Arriving at the tower room where Queen Gustin IV was holding audience, he was admitted at once. Queen Gustin rose from her paper-strewn desk, holding out her hands to greet him in a familiar embrace.
“Welcome, cousin,” she said. “I am so glad that matters of state at last relent enough to permit us a private talk.”
Queen Gustin IV was regarded by many as a lovely woman. Certainly her eyes were the blue of oceans and her hair the red-gold of honey just as the ballads said, but a calculating expression rarely left those blue eyes. At twenty-eight her figure was still firm and buxom and her smile merry, but that smile came infrequently these days and to him, who had known her since she was a child, it possessed a studied cast.
“I am glad to see you, too,” he replied.
“And Shad, is he recovering?”
“Nicely. He took a solid blow to the head, but several of die medics possessed the healing talent. Give him a couple days bed rest and he will be up and about—though the doctors suggest he do nothing too strenuous for a moon-span or so if at all possible.”
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