The Grand Design

by John Marco

  "No, he hasn't," said a voice. Lorla jumped. In the doorway was a young woman, fresh-faced and lovely. "He hasn't been anywhere but Dragon's Beak," she said, stepping into the room. "He was born here. Like me."

  "Who are you?" Lorla asked.

  "I should ask, rather, who you are, don't you think? But I already know who you are . . . Lorla."

  She was stunning. Worse, she was exactly the woman pictured in the portrait. Lorla stared at her, oddly terrified.

  "I'm sorry," she stammered. "I shouldn't have come here."

  "That's right, you shouldn't have. Didn't anyone tell you this part of the castle was forbidden?"

  "I was just looking around," Lorla explained.

  The young woman undid the latch on the raven's cage and put her hand inside, offering the bird a finger. The raven jumped on and she pulled it out of it cage, whistling gently to it. Lorla watched, fascinated. The bird was perfectly tame and cocked its tiny head for the woman to scratch it.

  "My sweet one," she purred happily. "Did Lorla frighten you?"

  "I didn't," said Lorla indignantly. "I didn't even touch him."

  "Lorla," cawed the raven. "Wonderful."

  The woman smiled. "Cackle likes you, I think." She reached out her hand and touched Lorla's shoulder. The bird hopped on. Lorla giggled excitedly.

  "Oooh," she cooed, feeling its scratching talons through her dress. The sensation wasn't painful, just strange. The raven began nibbling on Lorla's hair.

  "Cackle?" said Lorla. "Is that his name?"

  "Yes," replied the woman. "We call him that because of his laugh. Have you heard it?"

  Lorla nodded, carefully so not to disturb the bird. "I think so. But I thought his name was Angel. He told me so."

  "Oh, no," said the woman. "That's not his name. That's just something he says sometimes, when people look at the painting." She gestured to the magnificent portrait above the hearth. "That is Angel."

  "That's you," said Lorla. "Isn't it?"

  "No. My name is Nina. That's my mother. Her name was Angel."

  "She's very beautiful," Lorla said. "And you look just like her."

  Nina reached up toward the painting, then withdrew her hand. "It's my father's favorite painting. He has so many of them, but only this one of her." Nina turned to Lorla and frowned. "You shouldn't be in here. Duke Enli wouldn't approve. This is his private library."

  "Yes, I'm sorry," said Lorla. She turned her shoulder toward Nina, offering her the raven. "Could you? . . ."

  With an outstretched finger Nina summoned the bird, who leapt from Lorla's shoulder back to its mistress. Nina stroked its head, looking at Lorla for an explanation.

  "I shouldn't have come here, I know," offered Lorla. "But I was looking for Duke Enli. I have to speak to him. Do you know where he is?"

  The woman grinned. "Do you know who I am, Lorla?"

  "I don't think so," said Lorla. "Should I?"

  "Duke Enli didn't mention me?"

  Lorla grimaced, perplexed by the odd question. Duke Enli hadn't really mentioned anything. If he had, Lorla might not have come here, looking for answers. "You're Nina," she said simply. "That's all I know."

  "Lorla, I'm Duke Enli's daughter. I live here with him. Didn't anyone tell you that?"

  "His daughter?" asked Lorla, embarrassed. "Lady Nina, no one tells me anything. I'm too little to get much interest here. I'm very sorry." She made a poor effort at curtsying. "I'm pleased to meet you." She looked up from her bow nervously. The duke's daughter was smiling.

  "You have an honest face," said the woman. "I think I can trust you. But you shouldn't take lightly what my father orders. He's a very private man. He doesn't like having people in this part of Red Tower. Hardly any of his servants are allowed in here. If he told you not to come, you should have listened."

  "But I needed to see him," Lorla argued. "I need to talk to him. Lady Preen says he's going away soon. And he's supposed to be taking me to Nar City. I want to know what's happening."

  Nina's face dimmed a little. She put Cackle back in his cage, then went to sit in one of the chairs by the window. She sighed and stared at Lorla pensively, as though thinking very hard. Finally she stretched out a hand.

  "Lorla, come here," she said gently. "I think we should talk a little. Like girlfriends, all right?"

  "Yes," said Lorla. "Yes, I'd like that." She went and sat beside Nina, jumping into one of the chairs. Like all the duke's furnishings, this one swallowed her. "What do you want to talk about, Lady Nina? You can tell me anything. I'm good with secrets. They taught me about secrets in Nar, how to keep them and all. I won't tell anyone."

  Nina's expression was haunted. "Yes, I believe that," she drawled. "Tell me something. Do you know why you're here?"

  Lorla shrugged. "Your father the duke is taking me to Nar City. I have work to do there for my master, Count Biagio."

  "What kind of work?"

  "I don't know," answered Lorla honestly. She didn't like sounding ignorant, but she thought it best not to lie. "Your father hasn't told me yet. That's also why I'm looking for him. I've been here a good while now."

  "How old are you?"

  It was the same tiresome question everyone asked. Lorla answered, bracing herself for the reaction. "I'm sixteen."

  Nina's eyes went wide. "Sixteen? But that's impossible. I mean, look at you. . . ."

  "I'm sixteen, Lady Nina. I'm sure of that."

  The lady arched a brow. "Yes. Yes, of course you are. I meant no offense, Lorla. But when my father told me you were here, he wouldn't tell me why. I thought you might know. I'm sorry."

  The apology wasn't necessary; Lorla rarely took offense. "I know that I'm different, Lady Nina," she said. "Please don't act uncomfortable around me. The others here do, and I don't like it." She leaned forward in the chair. "You're very pretty. Like your mother. I wish I were like you."

  Nina chuckled. "But you are pretty, Lorla. You're very pretty."

  "No," said Lorla darkly. "I'm pretty like a little girl is pretty. I can never be like you. You're . . ." Lorla searched for the word. "Full."

  Nina blanched. "Full?"

  "You're full grown, up top. And taller than me. I don't know if I'll ever be taller. But I'm special. You see? I'm very special. That's what they say about me in Nar City."

  The duke's daughter put up her hands, unwilling to listen further. "Lorla, stop. I shouldn't have asked you anything. I'm sorry. Let's not talk of this anymore." Nina tried a crooked smile. "No one here talks to you, you say?"

  "I think they're all afraid of me. But I don't know why."

  "Oh, I don't believe that," said Nina gently. "They probably just know my father brought you here, and don't want to say anything wrong to you. My father can be very strict. The servants are afraid of him, not you."

  "Afraid of him? But he's so nice. And he talks to me, because he knows what I am. That's why I wanted to see him. Can you tell me where he is?"

  "You can't see him, Lorla. Not today. Lady Preen was right. My father is going away for a little while. Not too long, but he's very busy. He won't be able to speak to you."

  "But it's important," said Lorla earnestly. The big chair tried to hold her back as she leaned forward imploringly. "Can't you tell him that for me? Or can your mother?"

  "Lorla, don't ever say that again," ordered Nina. "My mother is dead. You must never speak of her in front of my father. Do you understand that?"

  "Yes," said Lorla, confused. "All right." She glanced up at the portrait of the beautiful Angel, her eyes darting between Nina and the painting. They were so much alike it disturbed her. "I won't mention her to your father. I promise. And I'm sorry for you, Lady Nina."

  "That painting is all we really have of my mother. My father cherishes it. That's why he keeps it in here, to himself. He loved her very much."

  "What happened to her?" Lorla asked. "Can you tell me?"

  "That's a long story. And I'm not sure it's suited to someone so young."

  "But I
'm not so young, remember? I'm sixteen. Almost a full woman like you. How old are you? Seventeen maybe?"

  "Eighteen. And you should mind your manners. It's not polite to ask a woman her age."

  Frustrated, Lorla folded her arms. "If I had a mother, I'd talk about her," she said. "I wouldn't hide her from people. And she's such a pretty woman. She should be in the main dining hall or someplace better than this. It's not right to lock her away in here."

  Nina chuckled. "My, you don't talk like an eight-year-old, that's for sure!"

  Lorla grinned. "I'm surprised your father didn't warn you."

  "Oh, but he did. Well, sort of. He told me you were smarter than you look." Nina sighed. "I'll tell you about my mother if you want. It's not such a great secret. Lots of people know the story of Dragon's Beak. But you can't tell my father I told you. He wouldn't want me telling this story, not to you."

  "Why not?"

  "Because I think he has plans for you. I'm not supposed to know because I'm his daughter and he protects me from things, or at least tries to. But there's a lot going on in the Empire these days, and my father is part of it. You're part of it too, I'd wager."

  Lorla couldn't help but be intrigued. "Part of what?" she asked eagerly. "Something important?"

  "You'll find out in time, when my father is ready to tell you. But I want your promise, Lorla. You musn't say anything to my father about what I tell you."

  "I won't." Lorla leaned forward, anticipating the story. "Promise."

  Nina glanced around the room suspiciously. Lorla loved the intimacy of it. "Have you heard about my Uncle Eneas?"

  "He lives in the Gray Tower," said Lorla, remembering what Enli had told her. "He's your father's twin."

  That's right. And you know how similar they are, just like in that painting in my father's study. You've seen that, yes?"

  Lorla nodded. "I've seen it. I don't like it."

  "Nor do I." Nina laughed. "My Uncle Eneas doesn't come around here very much: In fact, I haven't seen him for years. He and my father don't speak anymore. Not since they killed my mother."

  Astonished, Lorla fell back in her chair. "Killed her? You said your father loved her."

  "Oh, he loved her. Loved her to death. She was a lovely woman, and she had many suitors, or at least that's what I've heard. Lady Preen was here in those days. She tells me things. But my father wasn't the only man who loved Angel. So did Eneas, his brother. They fought over her hand for many months, and it drove them apart."

  "How?" Lorla asked.

  "Uncle Eneas was jealous of my father. He never forgave him for marrying my mother. He accused him of stealing her away from him."

  "Did he? Steal her, I mean?"

  "I don't know, really. But I doubt it. My father is a good man, Lorla. Dangerous sometimes, but honorable. You'll learn that when you get to know him better."

  "If I do," sulked Lorla. Without Lokken and Kareena around to attend her, she craved the attention of adults, anyone who knew her true nature. "But tell me more," she said. "What happened to your mother?"

  "As I said, Uncle Eneas thought my father stole Angel from him. So one night he came to Red Tower to steal her back. He and some of his men snuck in and tried to take my mother away. They almost made it, too." Nina's face went ashen. "But only almost."

  "Tell me."

  "There was a fight. When they got her outside the tower, my mother screamed. No one really knows how, but she managed to shout for my father. My father's guards heard her and pursued Eneas and his men into the night. They were on horses and riding fast. It was very late and dark. My father ran out of the castle after them, but . . ." Nina's voice trailed away.

  Lorla waited a polite amount of time before speaking. "But what?" she asked. "What happened?"

  "My mother fell from the horse," said Nina blankly. "Broke her neck. Lady Preen says that my father found his brother bent over Angel, weeping. She was dead and all Eneas' men had gone back to Gray Tower, but Eneas had stayed to confront my father. They carried her back here together. She's still buried on the north side of the castle, overlooking the sea." Nina made a pale glance at Lorla. "I was so young then. Barely six years old."

  Lorla bit her lip, wanting to comfort her new friend and not knowing how. Nina's pretty face had lost its glow. Lorla slid out of her chair and went over to Nina, offering her a weak smile and an uninvited touch.

  "That's very sad," she said softly. "I'm sorry for you. And for your father."

  Nina took Lorla's hand and squeezed it warmly. "That's dear," said Nina. She patted the space next to her on the big chair. "Here, sit with me, Lorla. You can comfort me, all right? Lord, I'm such a silly fool. It's been so long, and I never really even knew her!"

  "But that's what it's like," said Lorla. She got into the chair and pressed against Nina's warm body. "For me it is. I think of my mother. My father, too. But I don't remember them much. I don't really remember anything. I just remember leaving Nar City and--"

  She stopped herself. Nina was staring at her again.

  "So what happened then?" Lorla asked, anxiously shifting subjects. "Did your father fight with his brother?"

  "No," said Nina. "They never fought. But every year on the anniversary of Angel's death, Eneas would come here to Red Tower and beg my father to forgive him for what he did. And every year my father shunned him. Finally Uncle Eneas stopped coming around. He used to give me gifts when he came, to try and make up for what he had done. Like that was possible! Wretched man."

  "But he doesn't come here anymore?"

  "It's been years. Five at least." Nina pointed with her chin toward the raven in its cage. "Cackle was my last gift from Eneas. After that I never saw him anymore. He and my father haven't spoken since."

  The story was profoundly sad, and for some strange reason Lorla wanted to weep. But she did not. She was resolute, just as they had taught her to be. Special girls like Lorla needed to be strong. So instead of telling Nina how she really felt, she said the only thing that came to her lips.

  "Cackle was a gift? That's strange."

  Nina laughed. "Yes, I suppose it is. But Eneas raises ravens. It's a pastime of his. He's very good at it, I've heard."

  "Raises them? What for?"

  "To defend his castle. My father says that Eneas has trained his birds to fight like falcons. Eneas calls them his 'army of the air.' They're all over Gray Tower, guarding it from invasion."

  "I don't believe that," Lorla laughed. "It's impossible."

  "It's true. My father told me so. Everyone knows about it. Except you, of course. You don't know much about Dragon's Beak, do you?"

  "No," Lorla had to admit. "But it's a good story. And I like birds. I wish I could see Eneas' tower."

  "You'll have to make do with Cackle, I'm afraid. Besides, I'd bet Cackle is smarter than any of Eneas' other ravens. Father has spent a lot of time with him, training him. Cackle likes Father better than he does me, I think." Nina turned to smile at the bird in its cage. "Don't you, my darling? You love Father, don't you?"

  The bird said nothing, but Nina's smile didn't dim.

  "Cackle's been a good friend," she said. She looked at Lorla. "I know how lonely Red Tower can be, Lorla." She squeezed Lorla's hand again. "Are you lonely?"

  The pointed question made Lorla grimace. "Yes," she admitted. "A little."

  "Well, it doesn't have to be so bad for you. You'll be going to Nar City eventually, and until then you and I can be friends. All right?"

  "I would like that," said Lorla. "Very much."

  "Good. Then you can start by calling me Nina. Just Nina. Friends don't use titles. And I won't call you princess, all right?"

  Lorla laughed. "Fine . . . Nina."

  "And you'll be patient? You won't go looking for my father anymore?"

  That question was more difficult. Lorla needed Enli desperately, to find out what arcane work he and Master Biagio had planned for her. But Nina was watching her, waiting for an answer, and Lorla didn't want to jeopardize
her new friendship.

  "All right," she agreed. "I won't go looking for Duke Enli anymore. But can I stay here for a while? Look at some of these books?"

  "Is that all you want? To read?"

  "For now," replied Lorla evasively.

  Nina gestured to the bookcases crammed full with manuscripts. "Pick one."

  It was all the encouragement Lorla needed. She leapt from the chair and headed for the closest bookcase, climbing the shelves like a monkey, the only advantage to her embarrassing body.

  TWELVE

  The Raven Master

  Gray Tower stood on the north fork of the dragon's tongue, alone and frigid on an outcropping of rock. Like its brother, Enli's Red Tower, Gray Tower was a stoic place. It weathered storms without a blink and ate the salty lashings of the ocean. It was, like its red brother, built to separate its lord from the people he governed, to keep him high and far away from the peasant stock that toiled in his fields. Duke Eneas loved his Gray Tower. He loved the view from its high perches, and its grounds filled with oak trees, and its tall iron gates, always guarded by his raven-faced soldiers--those men of the fork who pledged themselves to his defense and wore the black armor. They were loyal and devoted to their eccentric master, and Eneas treated them handsomely for their service. All of the north fork were contented. And Gray Tower was well protected, not only by the guards in their metal garb, but by Duke Eneas' greatest accomplishment, a force he had literally grown himself.

  His army of the air.

  It was an affectation, really. Eneas knew this but liked the ring of it. Five hundred ravens. They were the terror of the populace. All of Dragon's Beak knew about the army of the air, and none dared come to the tower unannounced lest they wished their eyes pecked out. Duke Eneas slept well in Gray Tower, safeguarded from his brother's harmful intents and any foolhardy invaders. His army of the air protected him. They were his children and they did his bidding, for he was their God and mother, and Eneas needed only to flex a finger or whistle or turn his head to make them understand. It was a gift he had enjoyed since boyhood, one that Enli had envied and feared, and in these years of solitude from his brother, Eneas appreciated his dominion over the ravens. Five hundred pairs of eyes watched over him. In Gray Tower, Eneas could rest.