By Slanderous Tongues

by Mercedes Lackey

  “As for me,” Rhoslyn said, “I must return to my service with Lady Mary. If Aurilia or Vidal learns that I am no longer watching her, they may find a less pleasant duty to force upon me.” She sighed. “I just wish I was not so drained. Perhaps I will stay here for some time and try to Gate back in time—”

  Pasgen shook his head. “A few hours or a day does not matter, but if you leap back more time than that, a few of the sensitive mortals will be made uncomfortable.”

  “Oh,” Llanelli said, smiling. “I can mend the draining. I have learned some things as a healer, you know. You are better off doing what Vidal wants so he will have no complaints.”

  Aleneil was on legitimate leave from her duties with Lady Elizabeth and she took full advantage of the total absence of iron in her home and environs. At first she simply rested, mostly sitting in her garden with Ystwyth beside her. As power began to renew her and she felt more alive, she began to look through the invitations that had come to her.

  She went to a small party to decide whether further embellishment should be designed for the Avalon Gate. She accepted a dinner invitation by a Sidhe who led a party that advocated total separation from the mortal world. She enjoyed the lively arguments she stirred up by remarking that the notion, however attractive, was not very practical.

  Did they wish to starve the lios-alfar of creative energy, Aleneil asked? And to the riposte that the mortals gave that off whether they would or no, she pointed out that the energy came in sweet and bitter, and if they did not guard the provider of the sweet, they would need to sustain themselves on the bitter.

  “Why should the bitter win?” her host asked haughtily.

  “Because,” Aleneil replied with lifted brows, “we can abjure the mortals, but we have no way of forcing the Unseleighe to do the same. Since they desire the bitter energy of pain and misery, they will somehow destroy those who bring out the new, the wonderful, in music and art and writing. Only the bitter will be left.”

  There was more argument, but it was soon led to other less controversial topics by the host. However, when Aleneil had said her thanks for a stimulating evening, she found she had company. One of the Sidhe, who had been quiet but very interested in the discussion, followed her close when she left. Before Aleneil could feel frightened, because she knew she was depleted and could not well defend herself, he said his name was Ilar, and asked if he could accompany her.

  His eyes were clear and the almost-blue green of the best emerald; his hair was pulled back from his ears and face by a diamond clasp so his face was well-exposed. He looked, Aleneil thought, younger than most, his expression full of life and curiosity. She gave him her smile and her hand.

  They spent some time in Aleneil’s home talking about the mortal world. He said he knew his host hated it, but was at least interested; most Sidhe were not only uninterested but also ignorant. Aleneil was neither. She warned him first of the ever-present ache and drain of the ubiquitous iron in mortal buildings and tools. Unwilling yet to divulge how deeply she was mixed into mortal affairs, she told him only that FarSeeing duty sent her to the mortal world. There she became depleted and had come Underhill to restore herself.

  “I must dare the danger of iron before I know if I can endure,” Ilar said, “but to dare, I must know how to live, how to act, what I need to carry with me.”

  Aleneil suggested several brief trials to test himself and, if he could endure, to begin to establish a persona in the mortal world. She did not think he was serious about the attempt; she suspected he was more interested in bedding her than in the mortal world and was just using that to make his way with her. She did not mind in the least; he was bright and fresh and was at least willing to talk about something aside from dress and gossip.

  They did lie together and found the experience pleasant. Some days later Ilar invited her to his home in Caer Cymry. When they arrived they were just in time for a “human tournament.” Aleneil agreed to go, although she was not very happy about the word tournament, envisioning blood and death. And, in fact, it was a contest where mortal servants strove against each other for prizes, but there was very little blood and no death. A few fought, wrestling or with fists, but most danced or displayed feats of strength and agility.

  Part of the pleasure, Aleneil realized, was that the mortals enjoyed the tournament as much as the Sidhe; in fact a mortal had conceived the idea to mitigate his boredom. The games were of considerable benefit to all; the mortals could win freedom from servitude. A great deal of energy was given off by the mortal striving; exuded Underhill, it was no longer completely mortal energy and the Sidhe could use it. Aleneil began to feel less exhausted.

  Altogether she was delighted with Caer Cymry. Ilar introduced her to the Sidhe who were also delighted to meet one of the FarSeers of Avalon. Cymry enjoyed a different lifestyle than Avalon, with less magic and more mortal servants. Yet the Cymry Sidhe knew little about the mortal world; their servants were mostly purchased or bred Underhill.

  Aleneil began to worry that Ilar intended to visit the mortal world to abduct mortals for the Cymry Sidhe. He shrugged, saying that was not his first purpose, that he was looking for adventure, but he admitted he might take a neglected child or other miserable mortal—only for their own sake. Their own mortals bred very well, he assured her, and the Cymry were not in need.

  Having seen enough of the mortal world to understand that many mortals would be better off Underhill, Aleneil did no more than warn Ilar about the intensity and duration of mortal affection and urge him not to separate those who loved. He laughed at that and turned the subject to loving her, promising to prove his devotion by obeying her warnings. Aleneil would have worried more except that it was apparent the Cymry Sidhe only wanted willing mortals. They were mostly too kind and too lazy to break them.

  Ilar was good company and Aleneil found it pleasant to have a companion, who was also a good lover. Eventually, however, she found herself completely restored and began to feel bored by the balls and musical events, even in Ilar’s company. What was Elizabeth doing, she wondered? Surely she was settled by now and, being Elizabeth, trouble might have found her.

  She told Ilar she must return to her duty and, as she expected, he made no objection. However, to her surprise, he asked whether it would be possible for him to meet her in the mortal world if he were comfortable there.

  “Not while I am actually doing my FarSeer’s duty,” she said, and then went on to explain that she did get leave and how he could leave a message for her in Denoriel’s house on Bucklersbury. They had a last time of loving in Aleneil’s house and parted contented with each other and looking forward to meeting again.

  No hearts were broken; no tears were shed. When Ilar was gone, Aleneil stood in front of her long mirror and made sure that her clothing was all in the height of style and perfectly enchanting and that Lady Alana’s face was so plain and ordinary that one could hardly see it. She was humming happily when she dismounted from Ystwyth in the stable by the house on Bucklersbury.

  There she learned that all had been quiet with no further sign of watchers across the road or attempts to invade. The servants had been told of how a child opened the door and made them vulnerable to attack and warned not to let anyone in; they could feed the beggars but only outside the house. Nonetheless both Joseph and Cropper examined the house, specially the kitchen area, with care and double-checked locks and bars before they went to bed.

  A message was sent off to Elizabeth to say that Lady Alana was ready to return to duty. That was not, of course, the norm; usually maids of honor had stated periods of service and came and went according to a schedule. But Elizabeth knew who and what Alana truly was, and Mistress Ashley understood that Lady Alana was very wealthy and had business of her own. Since she served without support and was most sensible and useful, Kat was glad to see her whenever she came.

  Thus Aleneil received a gratifyingly rapid reply written in Elizabeth’s own beautiful hand. The “come as soon as you can,
dear Lady Alana” that closed the formal acceptance of service was the first small indication that trouble might be looming on the horizon. Aleneil told herself that Elizabeth was probably just suffering from a reaction to her feverish excitement when she was given permission to live with Queen Catherine and was now feeling sad and bored. However, she told Joseph she wished to leave as soon as possible.

  The next morning Joseph sent for Cuthbert and Petrus, two men he regularly employed as guards. They brought with them two packhorses to be loaded with the bulging bags and baskets filled with Lady Alana’s wardrobe. The party left for Chelsea immediately after an early dinner and arrived well in time for the evening meal.

  Lady Alana hardly needed to wait at all to be received by Queen Catherine, and she was greeted warmly—more warmly than she expected. Of course the dowager queen knew Lady Alana from her service to Elizabeth when they all lived together at Hampton Court, but Aleneil was worried by Catherine’s eagerness, concerned that Elizabeth was unhappy.

  That fear was put to rest as soon as Elizabeth was summoned. Her eyes were wide and bright gold, her usually pale cheeks just barely touched with rose. She looked healthy and lively. Whatever made Elizabeth urge her to come quickly and made Queen Catherine welcome her so eagerly was not frightening to Elizabeth.

  By now, there was no time to change Lady Alana’s traveling dress, and Catherine graciously gave permission for her to take her evening meal with the household as she was. Elizabeth sat at the table with Catherine, in a lower chair but on the dais. The tables for the two sets of maids of honor were just below.

  Aleneil was welcomed to Elizabeth’s maids’ table with little cries of pleasure and with a kiss on the cheek from Katherine Ashley. That renewed Aleneil’s trepidation somewhat but the gossip among Elizabeth’s attendants, who were all eager to tell the ever-sympathetic Lady Alana all the news, was mostly innocent. Snippets about what Master Grindal had set as lessons, the charms of the new teacher of dance and the misfortune of his being not only foreign but low-born, the trials of serving a lady so quick at languages as Elizabeth when she demanded all conversation be in French for a whole morning.

  The talk, sanctioned with nods and smiles by Mistress Ashley, implied that there had been no alarms or perceived dangers and should have set Aleneil’s mind at rest. However, Aleneil detected something held in reserve by Mistress Ashley, something of which the maids of honor were not aware but Kat Ashley was, and which she was of two minds about mentioning.

  Kat was given no choice, however. When the meal was over, Elizabeth was dismissed with surprising promptness by Queen Catherine. To Aleneil’s surprise, Elizabeth did not stiffen up with resentment; she seemed to take the hurried dismissal as a matter of course and came quickly down from the table on the dais. Abruptly, without even a glance at Kat, Elizabeth gestured Lady Alana to follow her to her own quarters.

  There as soon as Naylor had closed the door behind her, she caught at Aleneil’s hand. “Will you sleep in my chamber, Lady Alana? Will you, please?” Elizabeth begged.

  Aleneil opened her eyes wide in astonishment. Elizabeth knew that Lady Alana always had a chamber to herself—it was necessary so that Aleneil could Gate Underhill to restore the power that living in the mortal world drained. Her privacy had been maintained, even in the most crowded situations, and there was plenty of room at Chelsea. However as the request was coupled with an upsurge of the suppressed excitement in Elizabeth’s manner, Aleneil did not feel that she should seek an excuse to refuse.

  “Of course, Lady Elizabeth—”

  The door opened and one of the maids of honor came in, voices in the corridor betrayed the imminent arrival of others. Elizabeth uttered a brief hiss of irritation and her lips thinned to a straight line. Plainly she had hoped to have more time to talk to Aleneil alone, but there was no fear in her face or her manner, just frustration.

  “If you feel my company can provide you with comfort,” Aleneil continued smoothly, “I will be glad to sleep in your chamber until you are completely at ease in this new place.”

  “Oh, thank you, Lady Alana.” Elizabeth glanced sidelong at the maids of honor clustering together, uncertain of whether they should approach their mistress when she was talking with a long-time favorite. “I would have sent for you to come back to me sooner,” Elizabeth added, seeming to become aware that they were scarcely new arrivals and she had had plenty of time to grow accustomed to Chelsea. “But Kat said you had neglected your own interests too long when I was grieving and that I must not demand more of you.”

  And now that she looked closer at Elizabeth, Aleneil could see that the girl’s eyelids were heavy and that shadows of sleeplessness lay below her eyes. Yet there were no other marks of fear or anxiety. Indeed, Aleneil would have said from voice, stance, and expression that Elizabeth was in high spirits and brimming with mischief.

  “That was very kind of Mistress Ashley,” Aleneil said, not knowing whether she should be worried that Kat would not notice a real emergency or whether this was a case of Elizabeth being self-indulgent. “I am glad,” she continued to be on the safe side, “that your need for me was not urgent. But if it ever is, you must not be concerned about my affairs. If you need me,” she lowered her voice a little “or Denno, you must send for us”—she glanced up toward the air spirit bouncing gently near a window—“at once.”

  “No,” Elizabeth murmured, “it was not that”—she also glanced upward at the window—“kind of need. Just—”

  “Now, Lady Elizabeth,” Kat Ashley said, shepherding the last of Elizabeth’s ladies into the chamber, and coming to join her charge and Aleneil. “You know that Lady Alana has just arrived after a long ride. You must allow her to rest and to settle herself.”

  “She is going to stay with me,” Elizabeth said eagerly. “Until I am … am less uneasy. Would you please have a servant tell Blanche to bring what Lady Alana will need to my chamber and have a bed made up for her there?”

  Kat looked troubled for a moment but then sighed and nodded. As she went off to send a servant for Blanche, the other girls came forward to join Lady Elizabeth and Aleneil. There were five now: the three that had remained with Elizabeth during the sad period after her father’s death had been augmented by two even younger girls whose terms of service were beginning.

  One of those asked, “Will we wait for Lady Jane? Will she join us for the evening lesson?”

  A very slight shade passed over Elizabeth’s face but was instantly banished. Had Aleneil’s perception been less quick than a Sidhe’s she would not have seen it. Having seen it she still forebore to smile. Elizabeth in some ways was indeed the noxious brat Denoriel called her. Her scholarship was prodigious, but it was little better, sometimes not quite as perfect as that of Lady Jane Grey. For that reason, and possibly because Lady Jane was so well behaved, so polite, so self-effacing, Elizabeth had never really liked her. Likely Queen Catherine knew it because Lady Jane was not among Elizabeth’s ladies. She must be directly in the queen’s care.

  Blanche Parry came in at that moment, carrying Aleneil’s bags. Her head turned at once up toward the window, and her step hesitated. She sniffed, almost as if she were a scenting hound, and then crossed the chamber toward the door in the far wall.

  Another servant might have sidled around the room to keep as clear as possible of the “gentry,” but Blanche had been with Elizabeth since a few days after her birth. Although a mortal, Blanche had some Talent—not as much as Elizabeth, who could see through Sidhe illusion. Still, Blanche could sense the presence of otherworldly beings, like the air spirit, and she could use Cold Iron to drive off inimical Sidhe. Not surprisingly, Elizabeth prized her above any other servant, except Dunstan and Ladbroke.

  Without any expression now, Elizabeth said, “Of course we will wait for Lady Jane. She enjoys Bible reading so much. She just loves to translate the Greek so we can understand.” She then turned toward Aleneil and smiled somewhat stiffly, possibly a little ashamed that Aleneil had witnessed h
er waspishness. “You may go and rest, Lady Alana. I will speak to you later.”

  With only Blanche in the bedchamber, and the additional safety of a screen before the hearth behind which she could dress, Aleneil shed her traveling garments and put on court dress with a few waves of her hand. The garments she removed undid themselves and reappeared on Blanche’s outstretched arm, and a new set of garments slid from the packed bags without causing tangles and fixed themselves on her body.

  “Blanche, what is going on?” Aleneil asked softly. “Do I need to try to find Denno and get him here?”

  “Oh, no,” Blanche said with a grin. “It isn’t anything dangerous—” she paused and frowned. “No, I can’t see how it could be dangerous to my lady.” Then she smiled again. “But I’m not going to say a word more because she’s been waiting and waiting to talk this over with you and if you know ahead of time it will spoil her fun.”

  Aleneil sighed. “Then it isn’t something in which Elizabeth herself is involved?”

  “That’s right m’lady. My baby’s just watching.” The frown reappeared and Blanche sighed. “Just hope she isn’t learning too much. I would have kept it from her if I could, but she was out walking with only the guards. They turned away, but she saw what she saw and then she set out to watch apurpose.”

  Although she was puzzled, the matter certainly did not seem urgent. Aleneil dismissed it from her mind and occupied herself with becoming familiar with the area of the palace assigned to Elizabeth. Cloaked in the Don’t-see-me spell, she examined the small apartment Kat shared with her husband, Thomas Parry’s office/bedchamber, the two crowded rooms the maids shared, and the two rooms assigned to the grooms of the chamber and Elizabeth’s tutor.

  That was as far as she had gotten when the air spirit appeared and beckoned and Aleneil returned to Elizabeth’s bedchamber, where she rose from a chair as if she had been asleep. Blanche came in as if to help Elizabeth undress for bed, but Elizabeth waved her away and said, “Get my cloak and Lady Alana’s. We will walk for a few minutes in the garden.”