Wolf's Eyes

by Jane Lindskold

  Queen Gustin's cheeks flared sudden, unguarded red.

  So that is what she did intend, Allister mused. Good tactical sense, really, if anyone thinks about it, but her blush—whether angry or embarrassed—makes her appear a ‘prentice caught plotting to steal from the larder.

  Duke Dolphin took advantage of Gustin's momentary silence to comment rather more loudly than necessary to his closest neighbor, Earle Pelican:

  “In my father's day, our wars with Hawk Haven truly were a continuation of our Civil War. Gustin the Third was the first king to become dependent on foreign mercenaries. His daughter, our queen, has continued the dependence.”

  Wisely, Queen Gustin did not respond to this unofficial commentary. However, as she did not seem quite prepared to speak, King Tedric added:

  “As I was saying, I sent my soldiers to Bright Bay's aid because I did not wish to see her fall to a foreign aggressor. Whether or not I believe the compensation Your Majesty has offered to us is just is not the real issue. The issue as I see it is, what do you offer us to remain your allies?”

  Queen Gustin had regained her composure and her reply showed even a touch of humor.

  “I don't suppose that you'd continue to support us out of kindred feeling?”.

  “My personal family feeling would not be enough,” King Tedric replied. “My noble counselors do not have nephews among your Great Houses. I would need to be able to offer them something more if they were to send their sons and daughters to fight on your fields.”

  Queen Gustin glanced down at some papers in front of her, as if consulting them. Then she said coolly:

  “Stonehold found the benefit of money earned and a place to train their forces compensation enough. In addition, we gave their ships use of some of our ports. Would you consider a similar contract?”

  King Tedric shook his head.

  “My people are my greatest treasure,” he said. “I cannot sell their lives for mere monies. Moreover, New Kelvin and Waterland are not as aggressive neighbors as those Stonehold might find challenging their southern frontier if the Rocky Band were not so well-trained. We have a port of our own, poor when compared to the water wealth of Bright Bay, but serviceable, and Waterland freely shares the northern oceans with our vessels.”

  “I heard,” Queen Gustin said acidly, “from well-informed sources, that neither Waterland nor New Kelvin were pleased that you had come to Bright Bay's aid. Perhaps your borders and vessels are not as secure as you think.”

  King Tedric shook his head. “I am certain that if we offered due apology and promised never to aid Bright Bay again—no matter which foreign powers threatened—New Kelvin and Waterland would forgive us. Waterland in particular might have other ventures to occupy her time.”

  You walked into that one, Valora, AUister thought, Ustening to the murmured consternation from the Bright Bay representatives. That old eagle was playing such games when you were floating toy ships in a garden pond. Now your own people see our increased vulnerability.

  For the first time, Queen Gustin looked momentarily panicked, perhaps envisioning a Bright Bay embattled on land by Stonehold—with or without Hawk Haven's aid—while Waterland preyed upon her from the sea. Until this point, Bright Bay had been a fair match for the neighboring sea power precisely because of Stonehold's support against Hawk Haven on land.

  Gustin has been so busy concentrating on the immediate picture, AUister thought, that she did not realize what other sharks would start circling once they smelled our blood and thought us wounded. Yet, if she had come to fight this battle, she would not find herself needing to grant concessions. It is her own cowardice—or prudence—that brought her to this point.

  For a fleeting moment the duke wondered what ultimatum Stonehold had offered Queen Gustin that war had been preferable to reply. Despite how attentively his spies and those of his allies had snooped about, no one knew for certain. The best any could say was that Stonehold's letter had to do with events dating back to days of Gustin Sailor.

  Looking at the queen, sitting stiff and haughty in her high-backed chair, Allister Seagleam was certain of one thing. The ultimatum—no matter what it entailed—had meant less than the fact that it had offended Gustin's pride. She would not rash to Stonehold's bidding like a servant to cook, as she had put it in her letter to him, no matter what the cost.

  Although there was still a small glimmer of fear in her eyes, Queen Gustin found her voice and addressed King Tedric:

  “Your Majesty then agrees that what compensation we have offered Hawk Haven for her assistance in the battles of these few days past is sufficient.”

  Tedric replied carefully, “I have said we will accept it—I do not wish to discuss whether or not I consider the compensation sufficient, not when there is a larger question to settle. I ask you bluntly, Your Majesty, do you wish to continue in alliance with Hawk Haven and if so, what is that alliance worth to you?”

  Queen Gustin hedged, “You have said you will not take money nor use of harbors, that your troops need no training. What is the price of your aid?”

  “Nothing,” King Tedric said, “that you must personally pay. I only ask that you name as your heir my nephew, your cousin Allister Seagleam. I believe that he will work toward the union of both our kingdoms, so that never again no such word as ‘alliance’ need ever be used to define our relation-ship to each other.”

  “You say,” Queen Gustin said, her voice rising, “that this is no price to pay!”

  “I do not ask that you step down,” King Tedric said reasonably. “Only that you name Duke Allister Seagleam, son of Princess Caryl Eagle and Prince Tavis Seagleam, your heir. You have no son or daughter nor younger sibling. I am not asking you to disinherit anyone, only that you choose Duke AUister out of all those who could raise a claim to the throne and that you assure his—or his own heir's—succeeding you even in the instance that a child is born to you.”

  Duke Lobster, father of King Harwdl and thus grandfather to the yet-unconceived child of the queen, spoke out without bothering to be recognized:

  “Even if the queen has not yet bome a child, there are those within Bright Bay's own nobility who should follow her. Grand Duchess Seastar's eldest, Culver, holds the title crown prince, though all understand that he will step down gracefully when Queen Gustin the Fourth bears a child.”

  “Then I,” King Tedric replied, smiling slightly as if acknowledging Duke Lobster's unspoken advocacy of his potential grandchild, “am merely asking Crown Prince Culver to be gracious a bit sooner than was planned.”

  A few people laughed and Duke AUister noted that not all those who laughed were from Hawk Haven.

  Queen Gustin was not laughing, despite the fact that this proposal came as no surprise. She had heard it before, both from AUister and from Tedric—and probably from others. Her request that King Tedric tell her what he wanted of her in return for his support had been for the benefit of those representatives of her Great Houses who might not have heard Tedric's demands—and who hopefully would be offended by them.

  Doubdess what made the queen's face so stem was that Duke Lobster was the only one to raise a protest. There was no offended hubbub as there had been when she slighted Hawk Haven's contribution to the recent war, only thoughtful silence.

  Duke Allister was not so naive as to believe that this meant there was near universal support for him. King Tedric's people were prepared to support him because of the near certainty that Stonehold would withdraw once Hawk Haven and Bright Bay showed a united front. Hawk Haven, therefore, would have won a victory none of their armies had in over a hundred years—the promise of unification—with no further bloodshed.

  Among Bright Bay's assembled Houses, Oyster and Dolphin would support AUister's claim with enthusiasm. Oyster because of the prospect of seeing Pearl made queen—and the satisfaction of seeing their long shot in giving Allister a bride pay off. Dolphin would support Allister because of the old insult to Lady Brina—an insult that still rankled so st
rongly that Dolphin had risked its own interests to hinder those of the past two Gustins. Dolphin had long ago forgiven Allister for the earlier offense of his parent's arranged marriage in the light of that greater insult.

  Lobster would support the queen. They must because King Harwill was of their family. Pelican and Seal were more problematical. Tme, Queen Gustin's mother was a Seal, but that House had old internal conflicts dating back to Viona's marriage to King Gustin III. Moreover, the Queen Mother Viona had not kept friends with all of her kin. Pelican owned lands along the Stonehold border and should be grateful for Hawk Haven's support, but they might prefer reconciliation with their closer neighbor.

  Do I really want to be Gustin's heir? Allister asked him-self. Do I really wish this kettle offish on Shad?

  He nodded to himself. He did. The problems would exist whether or not he was in a position to do anything about them. This way, he would have some control. Indeed, Gustin would need to work with him—or at least with Shad, as he would be her more probable successor—from the start if she wished to see any of her projects carried out.

  “I am certain,” Queen Gustin said, seeing that no one else was going to speak out in favor of her, “that Crown Prince Culver would be gracious. I, too, wish to be gracious, but this is much to ask.”

  “Still, I ask it,” King Tedric said firmly, “and I am making demands not only of you. I will expect Duke Allister to prove his good faith to my people by wedding his heir to my heir.”

  There was murmuring at this, especially among the Hawk Haven contingent. King Tedric had remained stubborn in his refusal to name his heir in anything other than his sealed will. This last statement offered some slight clue to who that heir might be for AUister's own heir was widely recognized to be Shad, so Tedric's heir would need to be female. How-ever, as there were three female candidates, this was hardly decisive.

  Queen Gustin said silkily, “Duke AUister's heir is engaged to be married. Are you suggesting he name another child his heir or that he break the engagement?”

  “That,” King Tedric said, “is not my problem. To satisfy my belief that I am securing peace with Bright Bay for my kingdom, Duke AUister must wed his heir to mine. How Allister chooses to arrive at this end is his choice.”

  Earl Kestrel, quivering like his namesake bird about to launch after prey, stood and was recognized.

  “Your Majesty, does that mean you will name your heir here?”

  “If,” King Tedric said deliberately, “Queen Gustin agrees to my terms, I wdl be naming my heir here so that everyone will know how the succession is to be established.”

  Earl Kestrel bowed and sat, glancing at Allister as if wondering how the duke would take to wedding his son to a feral woman who apparentiy thought she was a wolf.

  I would wed Shad, Allister thought, or Tavis, if Shad's engagement cannot be broken—to any of the three young women from whom King Tedric would select his heir and he would choose a young one rather than his niece Zorana, of that I am sure. The male candidates please me less since young Purcel Archer was killed, but I do not think the king will choose one of these. Baron Archer would not divorce his wife to marry an eleven-year-old; Rolfston Redbriar is dead, and Jet Shield is disgraced.

  Judging from the expressions on the faces of the Hawk Haven representatives, similar conclusions were being reached. The representative for House Goshawk looked vaguely disappointed, but those for Peregrine, Kestrel, and Gyrfalcon were quite alert.

  “Queen Gustin,” King Tedric said, “what is your answer? I have given Bright Bay ample time to consider my offer. Although this is thefirsttimemy terms have been mentioned in this company, it is not thefirsttimeyou have heard them.”

  “It is,” the queen said, “a monumental decision. Although this is not the first time I have heard your offer, it is the first time some of my Great Houses have been informed. I ask to have time to consult with them in private.”

  'Take that time,” King Tedric said rising, “but know this, I will not wait beyond this hour tomorrow. Moreover, I do not think that Stonehold will wait. Already they see Hawk Haven's support as a negotiable commodity. I have given you the chance to win our support, but it does not mean that it is not valued by others.”

  With these stinging words, the king pushed himself to his feet and turned to go, escorted by his guards. His nobles rose in respect and followed him from the room, trailed by the clerks for Hawk Haven.

  The words that had been kept back lest Bright Bay look less in the eyes of a nation that had been enemy, ally, and kin now flooded forth. Representatives of the five Great Houses surged to their feet, shouting, without waiting for recognition. Allister Seagleam Ustened to the noise in consternation.

  Here, now, at last, it will be settled.

  XXIX

  FROM HER COT HIGH ON A SUNNY HILL, Fire-keeper saw movement around the pavilion in which the negotiations had been being held. The cleared area around the pavilion, meant to keep eavesdroppers at bay, suddenly swarmed with those privileged few who had met with King Tedric, Queen Gustin, and the two ministers of Stonehold. Everyone was visible but Queen Gustin and King Tedric. They emerged some minutes later. Through the long glass, Firekeeper saw that the faces of both were grim and fierce.

  “Now it comes,” she said with certainty to Doc. “Soon the call comes.”

  “Call?” Doc said, looking up from the notes he had been making on a bit of paper. “You mean they've settled it all? Are you certain? I thought that was what yesterday's meeting at the Toll House should have done.”

  In response, Firekeeper handed him the long glass and motioned below.

  “If I have learned anything of humans,” the wolf-woman said, “I have learned that when counselors look upset and monarchs serious, a decision has been reached.”

  The bright call of a trumpet followed almost as she finished speaking and a herald's voice was heard announcing:

  “Peace is made! Peace is won!”

  Cheering followed these simple words, drowning out what the herald said next so that he must stop and wait. Firekeeper watched as men and women smiled or wept, pounding each other on the backs, embracing. She wondered at their simple joy. Couldn't they smell the blood that had been spilt? How could they rejoice at a peace following a war that should never have been?

  Once again she resigned herself to accepting that perhaps for humans that battle did need to happen. Dangling her hand from the edge of the cot, she felt Blind Seer lick her fingers.

  Doc lowered the long glass, saying: “The herald has given up trying to say anything more. I'm going to ran down and learn the terms.”

  Firekeeper did not stop him, having plans of her own. As soon as the physician was gone, she said to Blind Seer:

  “I smell Patience not far away.”

  The wolf granted agreement.

  “If you bring the horse to me, I will not need to walk all the way down the hill.”

  “Who said you are getting out of bed?” the wolf growled.

  “I have,” Firekeeper replied. “And as you cannot stop me without hurting me further, I think you will get Patience.”

  The wolf snarled something about stupid, impulsive humans, but by the time Firekeeper had sat up and swung her feet to the ground, he was back, driving the snorting grey gelding in front of him. Patience wore neither bridle nor saddle, but Firekeeper said to him:

  “Kneel down so that I may mount or I will bite you.”

  A bit awkwardly, Patience complied, having no doubt at all that Firekeeper was completely in earnest. Wrapping her hands in the horse's mane and using the strength of her arms, the wolf-woman hauled herself astride. Despite the pain, she kept her expression carefully stoic, for she knew that at the first sign of weakness Blind Seer would realize he could stop her without retaliation.

  She must have succeeded in Hiding the pain that stabbed her back and groaned in the healing muscles of her thigh when she stretched it around the horse's barrel, for the wolf contented himself with gmmbli
ng:

  “If Elation had not so taken to Derian, I would have her fetch him here. He could stop you.”

  “I doubt it,” Firekeeper said cheerfully, adding “Up!” to the horse. Patience rose stiffly, muttering complaints about mad wolves. Firekeeper felt so good to be up and moving she let the gelding have his say.

  “Down the hill,” she said, slapping her steed's neck, “to where the people are gathering. I want to be there when the king makes his announcement.”

  “What announcement?” Blind Seer asked, trotting along-side.

  “Why, his heir,” Firekeeper replied blithely. “I feel in my bones that now is the time.”

  “Do you expect him to name you?”

  “No, but I am no less curious for that.”

  “Curiosity is a puppy's vice.”

  “And a human virtue.”

  Doubtless because Blind Seer moved to pad a few steps in front of the grey gelding, a path cleared for them as they passed through the army camp. Firekeeper sat as straight as she was able, but she feared that she must look rather less than herself. Still, sporadic cheers andfriendlygreetings met her progress.

  The news of her coming must have flowed ahead of her, because as she reached the area near the central pavilion Elation soared screeching out of the sky, heralding Derian's arrival a few moment's after.

  “Firekeeper!” Derian exclaimed, the word protest and question all at once. She realized how much she had learned in that she could understand this. Once she would have thought it a simple greeting.

  “I wanted to hear the king's announcement,” she replied blandly.

  “How did you know there was to be one?” he asked teasingly. “Isn't the herald's news of peace enough for you?”

  Firekeeper replied as she had to Blind Seer, “I felt it in my bones.” How else could she explain her growing awareness that humans revealed their thoughts and intentions through little signs even as wolves did? Humans might lack tails and decent ears, but the signs were present nonetheless.