Wolf's Eyes

by Jane Lindskold

  “I am glad to hear he is doing so well. Sit down, Cousin Allister. We have much to discuss.”

  Allister did so. An unobtrusive servant took his hat and set out a tray with peach cider and cups.

  “Leave us now,” Queen Gustin ordered.

  The man—a marine, Allister thought—bowed and de-parted.

  “I don't know how to thank you for the work you have done for me these past days,” she began.

  Here is where you could make your demands, Allister, he thought, but all he said was:

  “Thank you. Bright Bay is my country, too.”

  “There are those back at court who are remembering that Hawk Haven is your country, as well,” Gustin said, just a bit slyly.

  “My mother's,” he replied. “I have never crossed its borders, not even as far as over this bridge.”

  “Yet report is that King Tedric embraced you like a long-lost son.”

  “King Tedric was kind to me for his sister's sake and for the sake of peace between our nations,” Allister replied.

  “And has he made you any offers?”

  “We had not reached that point before Stonehold grew nervous and our negotiations were suspended.”

  “‘Grew nervous'—that's an odd way to say ‘Declared war.’”

  “They did not declare war,” Allister said, “until it was evident that Your Majesty was not going to treat with them.”

  “They had no right to meddle with a completely internal issue!”

  “I agree, Your Majesty. I was merely responding to your statement.”

  Queen Gustin IV glowered at Allister, reminding him irresistibly of the autocratic little girl with whom he once had played at make-believe. She hadn't liked being criticized then either—not even by implication.

  That very well might be the problem of raising someone to know that she can expect to rule someday, Allister thought. Of course, the opposite problem is what King Tedric faces—choosing a successor from those unprepared for the responsibility.

  “Negotiations with Stonehold are progressing,” Queen Gustin said, “slowly, but progressing. A pair of ministers empowered to sign a treaty should arrive tomorrow. They are bringing with them a fine sum to compensate us for our losses in soldiers and goods. If all goes well, Stonehold will begin withdrawing the following day.”

  “Very good.”

  “Although we have promised her a share of the compensation, Hawk Haven is being a bit more difficult about stating exactly when her troops will withdraw,” the queen continued thoughtfully, “and I am not in an advantageous position to set dates and times. Even with the reinforcements I brought with me, the Stalwarts of the Golden Sunburst are less impressive without Hawk Haven's army intermingled with them. Without Hawk Haven's support, Stonehold might decide not to depart after all.”

  Allister forbore from commenting.

  “Indeed, I would have Hawk Haven's troops remain until Stonehold's are gone and Mason's Bridge secured, but I can extract no promise that they will withdraw at all.” Queen Gustin frowned. “Have you any suggestions as to how we might resolve this problem?”

  This is it! Allister thought, taking a deep breath.

  “Yes, I do,” he said, and was amazed that his voice did not shake. “Hawk Haven has proven a tme friend to us. They need equal proof that we will be a tme friend to them.”

  “And,” Gustin said, her tone just a touch sardonic, “do you have any idea what we might do to give them this assurance?”

  “Make me your heir,” Allister said coolly, “for I have shown myself their friend. In the event I predecease you—as is likely—my heir must take my place as your heir.

  “Inreturn,I will convince King Tedric to wed to his own heir one of my children—who I will immediately designate my own heir. Thus, upon Tedric's death—which sadly cannot be too far away—a child Bright Bay born will sit upon the throne of Hawk Haven. When I become an ancestor, the reverse will be tme. By then our nations will have grown accustomed to—perhaps even come to anticipate—the idea of a union between our peoples and all should progress smoothly.”

  Allister managed to complete this long speech mostly be-cause Queen Gustin was far too astonished to interrupt. When he stopped, she exclaimed:

  “I should make you my heir? Why should I care for a union?”

  “Promise of a union will permit us to forge an alliance with Hawk Haven, an alliance that will give King Tedric's people the incentive to provide Bright Bay with military sup-port without taking the further step of becoming conquerors—a thing that is otherwise far too tempting.

  “If my plan is followed, you will reign as long as you live. Then I—or more probably my heir—will assume the throne. Since that same heir will quite likely already be king or queen of Hawk Haven, our kingdoms will be reunited under one mler and my royal grandparents’ dreams will at last come trae.”

  Queen Gustin was too self-disciplined to start out of her chair, but she did slam her cup of peachy down with such force that the tray rattled. “This plan is insane! I forbid you to mention it to anyone.”

  “I'm sorry, Your Majesty,” Allister replied levelly. “I have already discussed something like this with King Tedric in the context of my permitting one of my children to marry his unnamed heir.”

  That's stretching the point a bit, he thought, but the clerk who attended the meeting will not be able to say for certain that something of the sort was not discussed in private. There is no need for her to know that I've written Uncle Tedric telling him my plans and nearly begging for his support—and for sanctuary for me and my family if I fail.

  “Oh, you have…” She fell into thought. “And has this tasty bit of treason been mentioned to anyone else?”

  Allister answered calmly. “Not in so many words, but several of my callers these past days have expressed hope that some such plan may be in the making. I have only been able to say that I believed Your Majesty a good and wise mler with the best interests of her nation at heart.”

  “Oh, you have… “,

  “I could hardly say more when Your Majesty and I had not yet spoken in private.”

  So there! he thought with what he knew was childish vindictiveness. Ah, well. Her neglecting to give me a private meeting was equally childish.

  Still, he was privately embarrassed. He was a grown man of forty-four, not a child.

  Queen Gustin had not seemed to hear the reproof in his retort. “We had not, had we? And if I do not agree to make you my heir? What will Hawk Haven do then?”

  “I couldn't say.”

  “But that doesn't mean you don't know… and their troops already on our soil and the local people lauding them as saviors.”

  Allister replied sternly, “Hawk Haven deserves such praise. Their army fought and many died in defense of Good Crossing. We could not have held the city without them. The Battle of the Banks would have been our disgrace, not the first action in a victorious war.”

  “Perhaps,” Gustin said hotly, “they merely fought to keep Stonehold from crossing at Bridgeton and threatening their own lands.”

  “Don't be an idiot,” Allister retorted sharply. “Stonehold was already stretched to the limits of their supply line. If anything Hawk Haven stood to benefit economically by Stonehold's conquest of Good Crossing.”

  Queen Gustin's cheeks had flared hot and red at the sharpness of Duke Allister's words, but his fame as the hero of the recent war protected him. She could have him neither executed nor arrested without bringing the rage of the local populace down upon her.

  Allister, who had regretted his lack of tact as soon as the words slipped out, saw the red fade from the queen's cheeks to be replaced by an ivory white pallor that was no less furious.

  “Economically?” she replied, the word coming out as a cough. “I suppose you mean by supplying Stonehold's army.”

  “I do,” Allister said, watching her guardedly. Queen Gustin seemed to be under control now, so he went on pedantically, giving her more time to cool
. “The raiders who bumed Stonehold's supplies performed an act that was as decisive an element in General Yuci's decision to surrender as anything done on the battlefield. All of them, by the way, were residents of Hawk Haven.”

  “Including among their numbers,” Queen Gustin said, cooler now, but needing to vent her fury, “a carter, a man-servant, and a criminal, if I read the report correctly.”

  “Yes, I suppose you could say that,” Allister replied, deciding not to protest too strongly. “Earl Kestrel permitted several members of his personal entourage to take part in the battle.”

  “Kestrel…” Gustin murmured as if trying to place the name, though Allister did not doubt she knew precisely of whom they spoke.

  “Kestrel,” Allister repeated dryly. “The man who led the left wing of the cavalry charge and fought bravely despite ribs broken when a horse fell on him.”

  “I remember him now,” Queen Gustin said. “Norvin Nor-wood. He's also the man who brought back some foundling and tried to claim she was King Tedric's granddaughter, right?”

  “Yes. There is some evidence in favor of his claim. I've met the young woman. She's quite remarkable.”

  “Rumor said she's nearly dead from injuries taken when she assaulted Prince Newell Shield.”

  “At last report,” Allister replied, a trifle more sharply than he had intended, “Lady Blysse is expected to live, though she will be convalescing for some time. Prince Newell, as you may have heard, was attempting to assassinate King Tedric. From what one of the late prince's servants confessed, Newell had planned to have himself declared king.”

  And I don't suppose we'll ever know just how much you knew of his plans or whether you would have supported them. Oh, Valora, I wish I could trust you!

  “We can't treat with Stonehold from a position of strength,” the queen mused aloud, “without the support of Hawk Haven. Now you tell me—or at least imply—that Hawk Haven's continued support is contingent upon my naming you my heir. Tell me, why shouldn't I make my treaty with Stonehold, get them gone, and then dismiss Hawk Haven?”

  “Well, Your Majesty, they might be difficult to dismiss.”

  ‘True. And they might even ally themselves with Stone-hold and complete the conquest. Our army could not with-stand them both.”

  Allister nodded. “I do not like to dwell on the idea, but the possibility has occurred to me. Still, I believe that King Tedric would prefer to ally himself with us with eventual reunification in mind. We share a common heritage—common ancestors—so to speak.”

  “Yet he could be a conqueror with half our lands as his booty,” Queen Gustin said, “far more quickly than if we travel the route you suggest.”

  Allister Seagleam shrugged. “Trae. However, conquered lands might be hard to hold. Once secure with part of Bright Bay, Stonehold might decide she wants the whole. We have the ocean ports their own land lacks.”

  Queen Gustin laughed bitterly. “Stonehold might want the whole, just as Hawk Haven has decided she wants the whole. Yes, I can see how King Tedric might take warning from his own example. Tell me, Allister, why shouldn't I just pro-long negotiations until King Tedric dies? His new heir might prove more tractable.”

  “Or he or she might not,” Allister countered, fascinated despite himself with this weird byplay. He could feel Gustin hating him for the position in which he had put her, yet she persisted in asking for his advice. “And King Tedric, while possessed of a weak heart, is not in any immediate danger. Some have suggested that the stimulation of this journey has actually strengthened him.”

  “Delightful…” Gustin IV sank her polished white teeth into her little finger, as if pain was the only distraction that would keep her from screaming. “So my only choice is to make you my heir.”

  “I never said that, Your Majesty,” Allister replied firmly, “only that I thought that solution provided the best way to secure an alliance with Hawk Haven that will prove for our mutual benefit.”

  Queen Gustin fell silent for a moment, then looked across at him, her face eerily expressionless, a portrait cast in clean, white porcelain.

  “You may leave, Duke Allister,” she said with cool formality. “Thank you for your services. Send my commander of marines up to me as you are leaving.”

  Allister did as ordered, wondering what thoughts had lain behind that lovely mask and dreading that he must soon leam.

  DERIAN SAT AT FIREKEEPER’S BEDSIDE occupying the restless patient by drilling her in the alphabet—alternating these lessons with basic heraldry when she grew frustrated.

  Annoying as the wolf-woman's impatience could be, Derian took it as a good sign that she had energy enough to get angry. For two days following her straggle with Prince Newell, Firekeeper had lain still and silent, hardly responding to any stimulus, no matter who her caller or what news she was told.

  A few things had sparked her interest: praise from Earl Kestrel, who had knelt by her bedside holding her hand, tears actually running down his cheeks into his neat black and white beard; learning that Rook had been taken and had confessed—in return for a promise of imprisonment rather than execution—the extent of Prince Newell's plotting; the story of Derian's own adventures, told with great enthusiasm by Race Forester.

  But for most of those two long days she had simply lain still, neither restfully sleeping nor truly awake, suffering with every breath. Derian or Elise or Doc had kept vigil by her cot, wiping the bloody spume off her Ups, moistening her throat with dribble of water, and talking to her when it seemed she might actually hear.

  On the third day, Firekeeper had begun to recover, reacting with small signs of pleasure when Doc had ordered her cot moved out into the warm autumn sunshine. Today—the fourth day since the end of the decisive battle of Allister's War—she was sitting propped against carefully positioned piliows and fretting because Doc would not let her get up—and because Blind Seer and Elation had nominated them-selves enforcers of the physician's orders.

  Doubtless Doc's healing talent had been instrumental in assisting Firekeeper's recovery, but he had refused to take full credit. Indeed, he had confided to Derian that without her own indomitable desire to Uve, Firekeeper—like so many of those wounded on the battlefield—would have died.

  Derian had taken his turn digging graves for the dead of both sides. The continuing warmth of early autumn would not permit the bodies to be carried home to their families, but still the dead's spirits must be properly honored. Sitting by Firekeeper as she had slept, Derian had lettered temporary gravestones—wooden plaques that would be set in place until the stonecutters could finish the permanent headstones.

  As he worked, Derian was inexorably reminded of those anonymous graves west of the gap. Now he knew two more of the names that should be there: Sarena Gardener and Donal Hunter. Silently, he vowed that he'd learn the other names and return someday to set a permanent gravestone in that bumed glade.

  “Scarlet beside forest green blazed with…” Derian was prompting Firekeeper when footsteps crunching up the path announced callers.

  Elation squawked and Firekeeper said:

  “Sapphire Shield and Shad Oyster.” A wicked twinkle lit her dark eyes. “Elation say they were holding hands when they were farther, but have let go now.”

  Derian wagged a finger at the peregrine falcon. “You're a worse gossip than any market-wife.”

  The falcon, who continued to follow Derian about his errands until Derian couldn't decide whether he felt honored or pestered, screeched at him and Firekeeper chuckled, stop-ping abraptiy as if the intake of air still hurt her damaged lung.

  “We can't precisely knock,” Sapphire called, halting a short distance away, “but Elise said that Firekeeper was entertaining callers.”

  “As long as she stays in bed,” Derian said, rising and bowing. “Would you like me to withdraw?”

  “Not for my sake,” said Shad in a pleasant light baritone. “I've wanted to meet you. That was a brave deed you did, Derian Carter.”

 
; He offered his hand as if he were not a duke's son, but just another man. Derian accepted the handclasp.

  “The real credit should go to the scouts,” Derian said firmly. “They fought the enemy. I shot a few arrows and freed a few horses.”

  “Not having killed doesn't alter the courage you showed in going behind the Unes,” Shad insisted, and Sapphire nodded agreement. “And given that the diversion caused by the fire probably saved my father's life I am particularly grateful.”

  “Thank you,” Derian replied, dismissing the topic of his own heroism by turning to Firekeeper. “Have you met Lady Blysse?”

  “At the ball,” Shad said, “I believe I had the pleasure of a dance.”

  “No dancing now,” Firekeeper commented sadly, “not yet. Your father is well?”

  “If having Queen Gustin the Fourth furious with you can be taken as well,” Shad said proudly, “yes, he is.”

  “And you,” Firekeeper said to Sapphire, “I was told your father died. I am sorry.”

  “Me, too,” Sapphire admitted. “I miss him more than I had thought possible. Mother has already departed for home with Opal. The dual blows of losing her husband and having her brother proven traitor were too much for her. She said she will retreat to our country estate for a time.”

  “Good!” Firekeeper replied with such firmness that Shad looked puzzled, but his manners were too good—or perhaps he also had heard rumors about Lady Melina—for him to ask. “What does Jet do?”

  “Jet is a problem,” Sapphire sighed. “He conducted him-self well enough in the battle. Elise, however, has petitioned her father for permission to break the engagement. Baron Archer has asked Elise to wait until the current negotiations are ended and she agreed—but only after insisting that the king be told informally that the alliance is ended. So now Jet is questing around, looking for someone or something to which he could attach himself. I really don't know what to do with him.”

  Shad laughed. “In my country we'd send him to sea on a ‘prentice cmise. It's amazing how quickly ambitious young aristocrats learn just how little they matter when pitted against a hurricane.”