Lord Rhys just left me to fend for myself? I almost took a step after him before catching myself. What was the matter with me? I might be on my own in a camp of the enemy, but Lord Rhys offered no succour. He was the enemy after all!
With a stiff bow I turned to Lady Cerwen. “I’m sorry to evict you from your rooms.” My feet ached from the unaccustomed walking, and a wave of tiredness swept through me.
She regarded me speculatively. “Don’t worry, they’re not mine. And Rhys doesn’t seem to mind.”
“Oh.” That left only one conclusion. “So you’re his concubine?” But why would he sleep in his friend’s room rather than in hers?
Her mouth fell open. “What? Certainly not! How dare you!”
What had I said to make her so angry? She must have seen the confusion on my face, for her own softened slightly. “Lady Arisha, I do not know the customs of your country, but here it’s not very polite to imply a woman is sharing a man’s bed without being his wife.”
Oh! “I’m sorry,” I said. “In Sikhand, being a concubine is perfectly respectable. My commander, Prince Bahram, has even brought his with him from the court at Arrashar: six of them, all twenty-carat beauties.”
She shook her head. “Six! The Sikhandi truly are savages.”
It was my turn to take offence. “No, we’re not!”
We stared at each other, until suddenly she grinned. “Very well, I apologise for calling you a savage.”
She had an infectious grin and involuntarily I answered it. “And I’m sorry that I asked if you were a concubine.”
“Good. Much as I love my cousin, I have not the least desire to share my life with him.”
“Lord Rhys is your cousin?”
She put her head to one side. “Yes. Didn’t he tell you? I run his household until he settles on a wife, which will hopefully be soon. After all, he’s got plenty of candidates for the position.”
“Oh!” What a fool I’d been with my assumptions. “Well, I hope he will find somebody suitably docile.” There were lots of candidates?
Her eyes sparkled with mirth. “Is that what you think he’s looking for?”
I shrugged. “Rather what he needs: somebody he can run roughshod over and who obeys all his peremptory orders without asking questions.”
She laughed out loud. “Something tells me you haven’t hit it off.” The thought seemed to amuse her greatly. Then she sobered. “But come, Rhys mentioned your elephant needs care?”
“Yes, he’s strained his leg.” Poor Hami! I’d completely forgotten about him. “He needs food, water and cold compresses, if possible.”
Lord Rhys’s men had waited patiently during our exchange and now escorted us through the crowd. The tents were scattered in a haphazard way across the field, but the road had been kept clear and led up to a gap in the earthen wall encircling the village. Two towers stood either side, connected by walkways to the palisade on top of the wall, and guarded the wooden gate reinforced with iron. As the guards swung the doors open for us and greeted Lady Cerwen, I noted what details I could out of the corner of my eye. Even with Hami fit again, escaping from this place would be no easy matter. The wall was too steep for him to climb, which left the tightly guarded gate as the only option. That moment I spotted archers up on the towers and my heart fell further. We would be sitting ducks!
Inside, big wooden houses topped with slate shingles lined the road. Most looked quite new and many had eagles and other birds of prey carved on their lintels. I counted three smithies busily turning out suits of chain-mail just on the main road, several bowyers with bundles of arrows stacked outside their workshops and more places producing long, wicked looking spears and javelins.
At the foot of the cliff stood the biggest house, its impressive looking gates standing open and offering a glimpse of a large hall. Lady Cerwen led us round the back and into a large courtyard surrounded by buildings on all sides. A beech tree stood in the centre, stretching out its wide limbs as if in a blessing.
She sent a boy running to fetch the Master of Horses, a young man with a freckled, snub-nosed face who simply went by the name of Kestrel. He approached Hami gingerly, but once I’d explained the injury he showed real interest and nodded thoughtfully.
“We have an excellent liniment for strains, made of witch hazel and arnica,” he said. “It works fine on horses and I think your elephant is not so very different from them. Would you like to try some?”
I smiled at him gratefully. “Yes, please. Also Hami needs food and water.”
Kestrel nodded. “The Eagle has already given orders.”
He sent more boys off on various errands and soon Hami had a pile of carrots, parsnips, cabbages and hay in front of him. In the meantime Kestrel had fetched a jar of his liniment and watched me rub it in. Hami looked round curiously a couple of times, but was far more interested in his food.
I used up nearly the whole jar and Kestrel grimaced in comical dismay. “We’ll need more! I’ve never had such a big patient before.”
Lady Cerwen had excused herself to attend to the evening meal, but now Wynn came running. “Look what I’ve got!” he shouted, holding something aloft: it was a small, grey piece of pumice stone. “I remembered and asked Lady Cerwen’s maid for it,” he announced proudly.
I wondered how long such a dainty, ladylike piece would last, but didn’t want to seem ungrateful. “That’s wonderful, Wynn.” He beamed at my praise and I smiled back.
That moment two men came into the courtyard, carrying a heavy iron chain, which they dumped at the foot of the tree. “The elephant is to be kept chained at all times,” one of them said. “Eagle’s orders.”
My smile congealed. The man took no risks with his guests.
NINE
I woke up the next morning in a state of pure bliss. Smooth linen sheets caressed my limbs, while the heavy woollen bedspread on top kept me warm. And above all, my body had been scrubbed clean and my hair washed the night before – in hot water instead of icy cold! It had easily been the most wonderful bath in my life, and to my surprise Lord Rhys’s private bathroom even sported a small anteroom for rinsing and a proper hot tub in the traditional Sikhandi style.
I stretched leisurely, enjoying the wide, empty expanse of the bed. I could almost get used to this! But of course it was at best a gilded cage. The sooner I escaped the better. Sitting up, I automatically checked for any disturbance from Hami, but all I got was a vague sense of contented sleeping. If anything were amiss, he’d make himself heard anyway.
The previous night, I’d been too tired to have a good look around, but with the grey light of dawn filtering in through the windows, the few pieces of furniture slowly took shape. The room didn’t give away anything of its owner’s personality, except perhaps by the very lack of personal items. Apart from the four-poster bed, the room only held a couple of clothes chests and a stand displaying his suit of chain-mail. Tapestries hung on the wall, but instead of the martial scenes with lots of gore that I had expected, complicated geometrical patterns flowed into each other in warm red and brown hues.
Lady Cerwen’s maid had taken all my clothes away for a much needed wash, so I wore a nightgown borrowed from her mistress. However, the fine linen offered little protection against the morning chill, and I wrapped a blanket round me before getting up. Nobody else seemed to be stirring, so after a quick visit to the bathroom, I decided to take the opportunity to explore the house. Why shouldn’t a guest look around her host’s home after all?
When I opened the door of the bedroom, I found Wynn sleeping on a pallet outside it, snoring softly. Next to him lay a grey deerhound that lifted a graceful head in enquiry.
“Morning,” I whispered. “And who are you?”
The dog jumped up and wagged his tail. When he wanted to smell my hand, I hastily stepped across Wynn to keep the dog from treading on the boy. A wet nose nudged my hand, begging for a caress, and I knelt down to stroke the lovely, long-legged creature. The sheer friendliness o
f the greeting soothed me.
Another door led from the small anteroom out onto a corridor with more doors either side. The dog went before me, his claws clicking softly on the polished wooden floor, as I explored the hallway. I had noticed the previous night that there seemed to be no common plan to the layout of the building. Rather passages led off at odd angles and around hidden nooks, as if the house had been extended over the years in fits and starts. What windows there were faced inward towards the courtyard, providing glimpses of Hami slumbering under his tree.
At a door at the end of the corridor the dog sat down and looked at me expectantly. I hesitated. What if it was somebody’s bedroom? Worst of all, what if Lord Rhys slept in there? The dog gave a low whine, but was obviously too well-trained to scratch the door. Ah well, I could always shift the blame onto the poor beast if I woke somebody up.
So I opened the door and the dog pushed past me and bounded into the room. I waited for a protest, but when none came dared a quick peek. In the pale morning light streaming in through a window, I saw bookshelves lining the room from floor to ceiling. Involuntarily I took a step inside. Books everywhere! They filled the shelves to overflowing and lay in neat piles on the big table dominating the centre of the room. The dog trotted around, as if searching for something, but finally flopped down on a much worn cushion next to a chair in front of the fireplace. With a sigh he curled up and laid his head on his front paws. His accustomed place?
On one wall hung a map of Aneirion and I crossed over to admire the fine detail of the drawing. Following the mountain chain I found the Eyrie, marked by the artist with a tiny eagle, then traced the road west to the pass I had wanted to cross. I had been so close!
But the books called me. Lord Rhys – for it surely had to be his library – seemed to collect books on a surprisingly eclectic range of subjects, and most of them were written in Sikhandi. Of course there were the expected volumes on warfare and tactics, but he also had several shelves full of the writing of ancient philosophers, including some Rah Shanti sages that I had never even heard of. Next to that stood treatises on animal husbandry and farming. And another shelf held poetry of all things!
I took out one of the poetry books, a slim volume with creamy white pages of the best quality paper. The calligraphy of the short poems was superb, and each one had a small drawing accompanying it. As I leafed through the book, something fell out and I bent down to pick it up: a dried fire flower. The bloom had been pressed flat, the bright red faded, yet I could almost fancy I still smelled its exotic scent. I stared at it in surprise, then at the page it had come from. Dreaming of Peony Flowers in the Spring read the poem’s title and the picture showed a beautiful girl sitting by a pond, wide sleeves spread out around her, gazing soulfully at the water.
How had that come into Lord Rhys’s keeping? Suddenly I felt like I was trespassing somewhere that did not concern me and I hastily put the dried flower back and tidied the volume away on its shelf. Perhaps I would come back another time to have a look through the library, after asking its owner for permission.
“What are you doing here?”
I whirled round. Lord Rhys stood in the doorway, a frown on his face. I probably looked the very picture of guilt, wondering if he could see that the poetry books had been disturbed, but luckily the dog jumped up and demanded his attention by barking loudly. Lord Rhys scratched him behind the ears, making the dog sigh with ecstasy. “Down, Duach.” So the dog was his? He seemed to have a liking for elegant creatures.
Lord Rhys stepped up to the table in the centre of the room and his countenance darkened. He rapped a knuckle on the map lying there. “Doing a little gentle spying for your prince, my lady?”
“What?”
He fixed me with those hard eyes. “Are you denying it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” In my preoccupation with the library, I had let my blanket slip, but now I drew it around me again and crossed over to the table to look at the map. For a moment it made no sense: a rectangle with regular lines running through it. A Sikhandi city? It almost looked like a plan of Arrashar, but though there was a river running past, it had the wrong shape for the mighty Ashar. Also there was a small island in the middle of the ford leading to the south gate.
I gasped. “That’s our camp!” Little squiggles dotted the map and I bent down to decipher them. Each one marked a tent, to which company it belonged and how many men it held. The detail was astounding! “How did you gather all this information?” I looked up to find him watching me with narrowed eyes, but all of a sudden he relaxed.
“That needn’t bother you.” He began to roll up the map.
There was only one way he could have made such a detailed survey. “And you accuse me of spying!”
He had the grace to colour. “Lady, this is my private study. You have no business here.”
“I merely woke up early and decided to have a look around,” I replied. “The dog led me to this room.”
He frowned down at Duach, who wagged his tail in response. “He was supposed to guard your door, since he’s not usually friendly with strangers.”
“What a hospitable idea.” So much for my status as a guest.
His brows drew down. “It’s for your own protection. The Sikhandi are hardly popular among my people.”
“I didn’t ask to come here,” I pointed out.
“No,” he agreed without the least apology in his voice.
The Eagle at his usual charming self! I gathered my blanket closer around me. “Fine. Perhaps you can at least tell me where to find breakfast?”
“It is served in the hall.” He nodded at my attire. “However, you can’t go dressed like that.” A corner of his mouth quirked. “My men wouldn’t be able to concentrate on their food.” He seemed to find the idea amusing.
I gritted my teeth. “One of the maids took all my clothes away, I don’t have anything else.”
“I see. In that case I suggest you ask Cerwen if she would lend you a gown.”
And make a fool of myself by walking around dressed like the Aneiry women in their strange, low-cut dresses? “I can wait,” I said. “I’m already in your cousin’s debt for lending me a nightgown.”
Lord Rhys hesitated, the frown back on his face. Suddenly he said, “Wait here.” He disappeared through another door into an adjoining room.
Despite his injunction to stay where I was, I peeked round the door. Lord Rhys knelt by a clothes chest in what looked like a small storeroom and took out a bundle of cloth. I took a step back as he returned to the library and closed the door firmly behind him.
He set the bulky bundle on the table. “Here, you may use these. I don’t need them anymore.”
I unwrapped the linen covering to find several long-sleeved tunics in the traditional northern Sikhandi style with matching loose trousers. Below that lay a full length robe of the type worn farther south, complete with silken underrobes. The parcel even contained a pair of embroidered slippers.
“Where did you get this from?” I asked in surprise. While not very rich, the fabric was of good quality and looked new.
“That’s none of your business. Now do you want it or not?”
What if it had been stolen from some poor traveller? He seemed to read my mind, for the corners of his mouth turned down. “Don’t worry, I came by these items honestly. And you needn’t feel beholden to me either, for they’re useless to me.”
Which was why he had stored them away so carefully? But I dearly wanted some clean, dry clothes, so I accepted the gift. “Thank you.” The words sounded sullen to my own ears and an awkward silence descended.
I gathered up the bundle of clothes. “I had better get dressed.”
Lord Rhys opened the door for me. “Yes.”
That moment Lord Pellyn came down the hallway. His glance flicked over me. “Ah, attending to your guest, are you?” he said to Lord Rhys. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything…” He let his voice peter out suggestively.<
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Of course just then my blanket started to slip off my shoulders again and with my hands full I had no way to pull it back up. Duach came to my side, his hackles rising, and growled, expressing my feelings perfectly.
“Not at all,” Lord Rhys answered in a repressive tone.
Pellyn chuckled as if he’d made a joke. “Well, you can take your time. She’s not going anywhere, is she.”
It was very clear what he thought Lord Rhys had been up to. “And a very good morning to you as well, Lord Pellyn,” I said in my most honeyed voice. The house had woken up during my talk with Lord Rhys and some servants paused in their tasks and watched us curiously.
Lord Pellyn looked as surprised at being addressed by me as if a piece of furniture had spoken. But under the firm gaze of Lord Rhys, he answered with a gruff ‘good morning’.
I turned to Lord Rhys. “I’ve been wondering, does Lord Pellyn have an avian name, too?”
“An avian name?”
“Like Eagle, Owl or Raven,” I explained.
Lord Rhys touched the feather in his blond hair and shook his head. “No, only the members of my original band have one of those.”
I gave Lord Pellyn my most brilliant smile. “What a shame.”
He couldn’t resist the challenge. “And why should that be?”
I thought of his long, stringy neck that reminded me of a vulture. “Lammergeyer would suit you.”
There was a choking sound from Lord Rhys behind me, quickly converted into a cough, while Lord Pellyn stared at me in disbelief at my audacity. I took the opportunity to give him a dismissive nod and swept past him down the corridor.
“Rhys,” he spluttered, “you had better control your womenfolk, or I won’t answer for my actions.”
“Lady Arisha has guest rights, the same as you,” I heard Lord Rhys answer. “And I will do whatever necessary to guarantee the peace.” Their voices got fainter when he led the other man back into the library. “However, I’m sure she meant it as a compliment.”
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