by Sharon Shinn
With Valri on her sickbed and Ellynor in attendance, Cammon didn’t think he even needed to worry about Lirrenfolk creeping up on him at a time he most desired no audience.
Slipping his hand free, he stood up and began unlacing his pants. “It’s pretty cold, so that’s going to have an effect, but you’ll get the general idea,” he said. “Do you want me to take off all my clothes, or just my trousers?”
“All of them,” she said. “If you wouldn’t mind.”
So three minutes later he was standing naked before Princess Amalie, heiress to the throne of Gillengaria, explaining how a man’s body worked and how it could be used to pleasure a woman’s. She listened intently, asked a dozen questions, made him turn around, and sought clarification on a couple of points. The raelynx lifted his head as if Cammon might smell a little more appetizing now that his pale skin was uncovered, but it showed no inclination to attack. Cammon was freezing by the time Amalie was satisfied enough for him to put his clothes back on, and he hopped in place for a few minutes just to get his blood warmed back up.
“Thank you,” she said. “I’m still not sure I’m looking forward to this, but at least I know what to expect.”
He grinned and settled next to her on the bench again. There didn’t seem to be any casual way to retrieve her hand. “Murrie liked it,” he answered. “She said most girls did. So maybe you will, too.”
“Maybe it depends on the man you’re with.”
“Maybe,” he said. “So be careful who you pick.”
She gave him a sideways glance through a fall of bright hair. “That’s why I need you,” she said. “To help me make the right choice.”
IT was Cammon, not Amalie, who insisted that they return to the palace. “Majesty, they will send me away from Ghosenhall altogether if they think I am becoming too familiar,” he said, and that, apparently, was a threat that worked. So she sniffed, and let them out of the garden, and preceded him to the palace so that no one would see them together. He returned to his room to await his summons, and soon Milo had reappeared at his door.
“It seems the princess desires your attendance after all,” the steward said. “She is in the parlor.”
But Valri had roused herself from her sickbed enough to make sure Amalie had a chaperone, and Cammon arrived in Amalie’s favorite room to find Belinda Brendyn already in place. Amalie shot him a warning look, but he knew better than to pull up a chair and instantly deal out a hand of cards.
“Majesty? My lady? Milo said you might have need of me.”
“The regent’s wife mentioned that she knew very little about mystics, and I said you would be willing to tell us stories to pass the time,” the princess said.
Belinda smiled. She was small and dark-haired and growing round with pregnancy, and she simply glowed with goodwill and happiness. “Well, I know that some of them are exceptional healers, and I was hoping one of them might be on hand when my baby comes,” she said. “It’s my first child, and I’m a little nervous.”
“You can’t count on Kirra being anywhere nearby when you need her, but there’s a Rider who’s just married a mystic, and she’s a gifted healer,” Cammon said. “I’m sure Ellynor would be happy to meet with you anytime you wanted.”
He didn’t stay long, and over dinner that night he only sent one or two comments Amalie’s way when something in the conversation struck him as odd or humorous. But it didn’t matter. He was sublimely happy. Amalie was no longer angry with him. And the whole world was glorious.
CHAPTER
18
TWO days later, Valri was fully recovered, Senneth and Tayse were a day into their return journey, Kirra and Donnal were headed for Danalustrous, and Toland Storian came calling.
Amalie had spent the morning combating her dread. “But I hate him, Valri,” she said every time the queen reminded her to treat him with friendliness. “He’s a pig.”
“Hey, maybe Kirra could really turn him into a pig,” Cammon suggested. Amalie looked amenable to the idea, but Valri frowned.
“Storian is an important ally.”
“Storian has been trading with Fortunalt and Gisseltess and may in fact be contemplating an assault on the throne,” Amalie retorted.
“That’s why it’s so important that you be amiable to ser Toland. If he believes he has a chance to wed you, he might persuade his father to hold back from war.”
Despite her misgivings, Amalie managed to be perfectly gracious to Toland while the two of them sat in the receiving room, engaged in the opening round of their courtship. Cammon thought the serramar was boastful, arrogant, and a little too familiar (though he realized he had no right to criticize on that last point), but Amalie handled him deftly.
“Of course you’ll join us for dinner tonight,” she said, as she always said.
“Of course I will. I was hoping there might be dancing as well.” Cammon imagined the leer on Toland’s aristocratic face. “We danced together at a number of Houses last summer, and I enjoyed those times very much.”
“No, I don’t think we have such entertainments planned.”
“Too bad. I would like a chance to hold you in my arms again.”
The heavy gallantry made Valri grimace—and made Cammon want to rip through the false wall and punch the proud noble in the face. Of course, just imagining what would happen next—Riders bursting through right behind him, Valri launching into a furious tirade—made him want to smile again.
He had not intended to send Amalie that picture, but somehow she had caught it, for he heard the lilt in her voice. “Now, ser Toland. You don’t want to press too hard or appear overeager. I have many defenders and one of them is likely to take offense.”
Bright Mother burn me, Cammon thought. Valri looked at him curiously but he did not meet her eyes. He was going to have to be a lot more careful about what he thought if Amalie was going to be able to read him so easily.
“Well, of course you have defenders,” Toland said smoothly. “But I wager if you spend a little more time alone with me you might find you don’t want them interfering as we get to know each other.”
Now Valri was scowling at the wall. She turned to Cammon and mouthed, What an ass. He nodded emphatically.
Amalie, surprisingly, did not seem at all offended. “Perhaps you’re right. I assume you are planning to stay a day or two? Let’s go for a walk tomorrow morning, just around the palace grounds. I can show you some of the prettiest gardens and you can tell me a great deal more about yourself. I’m sure we will enjoy ourselves immensely.”
Valri and Cammon exchanged startled glances, but Toland was deeply pleased. He said, “Majesty, it will be an honor.”
ACCORDINGLY, the next morning, a small procession set out to stroll through the royal lawns. Toland did not seem delighted to realize that his romantic outing with the princess would be attended by two Riders, the queen, and a serving man, but he offered Amalie his arm and escorted her down the path to the sculpture gardens.
“How much will you wager that before the hour is out he’ll put his arm around her waist or take her hand?” Valri said.
“Nothing,” Cammon replied. “I’m sure he will.”
“Why is she encouraging him this way?”
“You’re the one who told her to be nice to him!”
“Amalie never does what I say.”
That made him grin. “Maybe she’s really testing us. Seeing how much we can stand when we see her with an idiot like Toland.”
“If he tries to kiss her, I’ll have one of the Riders run him through.”
Cammon was amazed at how furious he suddenly was. “Kiss her? Surely not! With so many people watching?”
“You wait and see. He’ll find a way to get her behind a tree or around a corner, and he’ll kiss her. He’s the type.”
Amalie, be careful with him, Cammon sent out to her. Valri thinks he’ll try to take liberties. Turn around at any point and go back inside. You don’t have to placate Storian quite so much.
But Amalie’s mind was completely closed to him. He couldn’t even tell if she heard him, and she certainly didn’t respond.
So he fretted for the next thirty minutes, every time a bend of the path or the stoop of a tree momentarily hid the princess and her swain from view. Even Justin and Coeval, a few feet behind, must have lost sight of their quarry now and then, Cammon was sure. Once, as Amalie and Toland slipped past a dairy house, they disappeared for a good fifteen seconds, and when Cammon could see them again, Amalie looked flushed and Toland smug.
“He kissed her,” Cammon whispered to the queen. “I’m sure of it.”
“Why doesn’t she look more upset?”
Cammon felt a profound and bitter blackness settle over him. “I don’t know. Maybe she likes him after all. Maybe she was just pretending before.”
“Well, he is handsome in a sort of hearty and stupid way.”
His mood grew even darker, and he made no answer.
Cammon had been so absorbed in watching the suitor and trying to guess Amalie’s response that he hadn’t paid much attention to where they were heading. But a small exclamation from Valri made him realize Amalie had led them all the way to the far end of the compound where the raelynx made its home.
“Why bring him here?” the queen murmured.
Amalie said something indistinguishable to Toland, and he caught her hand in his, lifting it to his heart. Suddenly the still winter air was shattered by a blood-chilling and inhuman sound—the wailing shriek of a raelynx, rising and rising, increasing in intensity, until it was abruptly cut off.
Toland dropped Amalie’s hand and whirled around, fingers on his dress sword, eyes wide and frightened. Cammon saw his lips move. What was that? Justin and Coeval had drawn their weapons and taken defensive postures—though Justin, at least, recognized the sound of a raelynx and knew there was no defense against one.
Amalie’s clear voice was distinct in the sudden silence. “That’s my raelynx. One of my many defenders.”
She twisted the key in the lock and flung wide the gate.
The raelyx bounded out.
For a moment, everyone was frozen. Cammon caught Valri’s sudden silent scream of horror, felt Justin’s wicked spike of fear—those two knew what a raelynx was capable of, how impossible it was to contain. Toland’s fright was more elemental and uninformed. He just knew that this large, feral, unfamiliar creature was stalking in his direction with its hot eyes fixed unwaveringly on his face.
“It’s going to kill that boy,” Valri whispered, and suddenly both of them were running. Toward the big cat, which was insane, hoping to save the serramar, hoping to save the princess. Cammon felt Valri’s mind open up as she reached out for the raelynx—felt her utter astonishment when she realized that the cat was under someone else’s control.
Justin and Coeval were also on the move but, without looking at them, Amalie held up her hand to keep them at bay. Cammon and Valri skidded to a halt beside the Riders, and Justin gave Cammon one quick, wide-eyed glance. But no one spoke. No one moved except Amalie, who took two steps closer to Toland and buried her hand in the fur of the raelynx’s neck.
The raelynx released another of those preternatural cries. Only Amalie seemed unaffected.
“One of my protectors,” she repeated to Toland in a tranquil voice. “I told you I had many.”
“What—what is it? Will it eat me?”
“He’s a raelynx. Imported from the Lirrenlands. He would most definitely eat you if he was hungry. And if I wasn’t here to stop him. He responds to my will and to my moods. He knows that you have upset me a little with your behavior—and you see, that’s upset him as well.”
“I didn’t! I—I didn’t know and he—he—what are you going to do with him? Put him back! Lock him up!”
Amalie stroked the cat’s fur. “I don’t think so. He’s been locked up too long as it is. I believe I’ll take him back with me to the palace tonight.”
That was so outrageous that suddenly all of them found their voices, Toland, Valri, and Justin all simultaneously begging Amalie to change her mind, to not be ridiculous, to think of the danger, Majesty, think of the panic. Cammon said nothing aloud but he put a question directly in her head. Are you serious?
This time she replied, a single word, but he heard it distinctly. Yes.
By the Bright Mother’s red eye. “She can control it,” he whispered to Valri. “I’ve seen her do it. Better than you or I can.”
“Can you take it away from her? I’m trying, and I can’t.”
He shook his head. “I think we have to trust her.”
“It’s madness!”
For the life of him, he couldn’t repress a grin. “I know.”
Amalie was smiling impartially at the whole group as if they weren’t all regarding her with varying degrees of terror and despair. “I think ser Toland is getting a little chilled. Shall we all head back inside?”
Justin, living up to his reputation for reckless bravery, actually gainsaid her. “Majesty. Think a moment about the chaos you will unleash throughout the palace if you try to bring that creature inside.”
“Yes,” she said. “I’m sure there will be some consternation until people get used to him. But he responds to my direction. There is no need to fear.”
Justin held his ground. “But there will be fear. If nothing else, let someone return in advance of you to warn the inhabitants what danger is on its way.”
Amalie tilted her chin at him, clearly not liking this suggestion. It was the first time Cammon realized that she was blazingly furious and that only the most iron will was allowing her to keep her anger in check. Sweet gods, if she lost that control, the raelynx would slip away from her, and then there would be a reckoning such as she could never have imagined.
“I would never do anything to endanger my people,” she said loftily.
“Then return the raelynx to his cell and bring him out some other day when his appearance will not be so terrifying.”
Amalie hesitated—then glanced at Cammon. Half of him thought it would be marvelous to have Amalie parade the wild cat across the compound and show the entire city what strange and potent resources she commanded. Half of him desperately wished to see the raelynx safely behind a barred gate. This was not the time to give in to his more adventurous impulses. He nodded slowly.
Amalie seemed to deflate slightly. “Very well. Since you are all so worried. I will return him to his pen for now. But I will release him on some future date, and you will see then how well he minds me.”
Justin bowed very low, his fist against his shoulder. “Majesty, that will be a most memorable day.”
Amalie’s hand tightened in the cat’s fur, and she seemed to tug it toward the fence. “Come,” she said in a soft voice. “Just a taste of freedom after all.”
For a moment, the raelynx resisted, and the rest of them all grew motionless again. But then, growling with protest, the big cat turned under her hand and slunk back into the garden. In a moment, the gate was shut, the lock was thrown, and Amalie was giving them all that sunny smile.
“Well?” she said. “Shall we head back?”
Toland drew a shuddering breath and stumbled up the path toward the palace without waiting for anyone else to move. Valri sagged against Cammon, clutching his arm as if she might fall to the ground without his support. Justin gave Cammon a very serious look—and then, the smallest grin. Coeval said nothing, just sheathed his weapon.
“Yes, Amalie,” Valri said, straightening up and pulling free of Cammon. “I think we should head back. And you and I shall walk in front of the others so I can tell you exactly what I think of this little escapade.”
The queen pulled the princess ahead of her and began a low diatribe in a dark voice. The other three followed more slowly, but it was impossible not to realize that Amalie was receiving the tongue-lashing of her life.
“I’ll be off to the barracks,” Coeval said, and parted from them at the first branc
hing of the pathways.
Justin continued alongside Cammon, his grin growing wider. “Damn,” he said a few times. “That took cool nerve, didn’t it? Damn! Senneth will fall down in a faint when she hears the story.”
“Guess we don’t have to worry any more about Toland Storian wanting to marry the princess,” Cammon said. That thought was cheering him up so much that he was quickly overcoming his shock.
“It would tend to dampen your ardor if you thought your wife could loose a wild animal on you,” Justin agreed.
“Ellynor could probably call up a raelynx to maul you,” Cammon scoffed.
Justin nodded. “She probably could. But she hasn’t produced one lately, so I’m just not that worried about it. But damn. I can’t believe she did that.” He cut his eyes over at Cammon. “Makes me wonder what she might try next. I’m thinking the princess might keep surprising all of us.”
Cammon nodded. “She keeps surprising me.”
It was exhilarating and spectacular, but unnerving and terrifying at the same time. Cammon was out of his depth, and he was fairly certain Valri was fast coming to the same conclusion.
Senneth, he thought, sending the message halfway across Gillengaria. I wish you were here now.
CHAPTER
19
THE trip to Carrebos had been quick and free of trouble. Tayse was a most efficient traveler, and Senneth never required any particular amenities on the road. Kirra and Donnal had elected to make the journey in animal shape, although Kirra, at least, always took human form when they stopped for the night. Donnal sometimes joined them as a black dog, sometimes as a white-faced wolf, but never as a man. Senneth wondered if that was because Darryn Rappengrass was present, and Donnal was rarely at ease around any nobility except Kirra and Senneth.
Darryn, as always, was delightful company, humorous and charming. He only turned serious when talk turned to war, and they spent part of every evening running over the same fears and possibilities. Was Halchon Gisseltess still a prisoner on his own lands at Gissel Plain, or had he escaped the king’s men who were guarding him—as he had managed to do more than once in the past? Was Rayson Fortunalt helping him raise an army? Which other marlords had he recruited? If they planned to attack, what signal were they waiting for? Would they send another assassin to Ghosenhall to try to murder the king?