Eleanor did not know what to make of Dorian’s brother. He was polite enough, but obviously uncomfortable with strangers. She saw why he resented Dorian. There was a family resemblance, but the puzzle pieces just did not meet well in Abram. Both men were tall, but where Dorian was lean and strong, Abram was skinny and almost frail. Dorian’s fair skin became pallor on Abram, whose dark eyes were protruding rather than arresting. He was only a few years older than Dorian but his hair was thinning. Eleanor couldn’t help but feel sorry for him as he stood beside his brother’s robust glory.
She paused behind a hedge and rested one hand on the prickly branches. She didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but she hesitated to interrupt. They were clearly arguing.
“I don’t need your approval for anything, Dorian,” Abram said. “It’s my estate, and my money.”
“You forget my income comes from the estate as well. I should at least be consulted.”
“It’s been a hard year. I have to sell off some property.”
“I think that’s rash. You can’t get it back. What about your hounds? Can’t you sell some of them? The kennel must cost a fortune,” said Dorian.
Abram swelled. “I raise the finest hunting dogs in the east. I see no reason to sell them.”
“You have over a hundred. Can you even tell which is which?”
“You know, I have come up with a way to cut costs. I’m reducing your stipend.” Abram notched his arrow.
“You can’t be serious. It’s barely enough to get me by as it is.”
Abram laughed. “Get you by? You live here, in the palace. You’re the prince’s lapdog. What could you possibly need?”
Dorian lowered his bow. “Is that what you think of me?”
Abram didn’t answer, he just let fly with his shot. It went wide and he cursed.
“I’m trying to put aside something of my own,” said Dorian. “I don’t want to live here at court forever. I’d like to have my own home, perhaps in the Crossing. A place where I can escape all this for a while.”
“Don’t worry, I’m sure Gregory will take care of that for you when he’s king.”
Dorian stepped toward him. “As my brother I’d hoped you’d understand. I want to do this myself.”
“Why don’t you get married? Why don’t you wag your pretty dick at some rich widow and have her take care of you? Or are you still too busy chasing whores and deflowering virgins?”
Dorian grabbed Abram by the shoulders and pulled him close. The look on his face frightened Eleanor.
“You know nothing about me.” Dorian pushed Abram, hard, and Abram landed on his ass.
Eleanor stepped out from behind the hedge. She moved too quickly and stumbled on the sliding gravel. Her hand went protectively to her belly. “Hello, Dorian, Abram,” she said in a high voice. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
Abram stood. He wiped his leggings and gathered his bow and quiver. “No, Your Highness. We’re finished. I’ll leave you.” He marched off.
She waddled over to Dorian, who stooped to pick up his own equipment. His arrows clacked as he shoved them into the quiver. She put a hand to his back, but he shrugged her off.
“How much did you hear?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Enough to know your brother is spiteful and jealous,” she said.
He snorted. “Yes, I guess you’re right.”
She wanted to make him feel better. “Don’t listen to him.”
“Do you think I’m Gregory’s lapdog?”
“Of course not.” She tried to stand in front of him but he paced around her. His hair fell across his forehead, but he didn’t brush it back. For once he would not meet her eyes.
“Gregory loves you,” she said. “He counts on you in everything. You’ve never asked him for more than he offers you, and you give him your service in return.”
Dorian laughed, and it was bitter. “My service. Yes, I give him that. And he gives me a unicorn, and a roof over my head, and the admiration of the whole court. But there’s only one thing I really want. And he can’t give it to me, because he can’t share it.”
He walked to the shooting target, ripped it out of the ground, and returned to her with his eyes still on his muddy boots. “That’s what a loyal servant I am.”
“Dorian, tell me what you want from me,” she said. “Please, tell me, and I will do it.”
He finally looked at her. “You asked me that question a long time ago,” he said. “You asked me what I would have you do. I don’t know. I just know I can’t live like this.”
“Please.” She wasn’t sure what she meant by it.
“Maybe I should have been man enough to tell you what I wanted at the beginning. Maybe there would have been some slight chance, but there was no time to understand it.” He placed his warm hand on her tight stomach. “Whatever chance there was, it’s gone now.”
Tears slipped down her cheeks. “You’re right.”
He stepped away. “I’ll walk you home.”
“I’m fine. I know the way.”
“I can’t be responsible if you deliver the future king alone among the hedgerows,” he said.
She couldn’t muster a smile. He followed her to the palace.
Eleanor was glad for the excuse of her heavy belly. She stayed at the dinner table and picked at her food. The fiddles and flutes ground on her nerves like a chorus of bullfrogs competing with a herd of cows. She responded to the party guests who directed questions her way, but later she remembered none of the conversations. Chou perched on the back of chair, and picked at her hair. He landed by her soup bowl.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I’m weary, that’s all.” She glanced at Dorian, who in turn focused his attention on his two fidgety nephews. He entertained them hiding a nut beneath one of two cups and asking them to find it. When she entered the dining room she had wished him a happy birthday and they had not spoken since.
“I share Chou Chou’s concerns,” said Gregory. “Are you feeling well?”
Her held her napkin to her eyes for a moment. “This food is just not sitting well with me. You know, pregnant women and their delicate constitutions.”
“Maybe you should retire early,” said Gregory. “Dorian will understand.”
“I think I will. Will you tell him goodnight for me?”
Gregory helped her pull out her chair. When she stood her stomach knocked into her water glass, and it tipped over. She grabbed for it but it rolled over the edge of the table and shattered on the floor. The guests looked up from their plates.
“Damn,” she said.
“Peace, Eleanor.” Gregory waved over one of the servants. “Go lie down.”
Eleanor turned on a heavyset woman in a bright orange dress with her fork halfway to her mouth. “Mind your eyeballs, Lady Pendleton,” she said, “before they fall into your pie.” As Gregory took her arm she heard drumming hooves and loud voices in the hall. She turned toward the entrance.
Two unicorns burst through the dining room door. Some of the guests screamed as a sentry slid down from the first unicorn’s back. He ran to the head of the table and fell on his knees in front of King Casper.
“HighGod, what is the meaning of this?” asked the king.
The sentry raised his head. His face was ashen. “I hardly know how to tell you, Your Majesty. I can’t believe it myself.”
“Tell me what?”
The young man stuttered a few unintelligible words. The king gripped his butter knife. “Tell me, boy!”
“Caleb’s Horn, sire. It’s gone.”
“That’s impossible.” Casper dropped the knife and it clanged off his plate.
“I wish it was, sire,” he said. “I wish it with all my heart.”
“How? Did someone break in? No one’s ever been able to break in! Thieves have been trying for three hundred years!”
“No, sire…no one broke in…it’s just gone. A magical crime. It disappeared, right in front of our eyes.” He hung h
is head, as if expecting to lose it right there.
Gregory stood. “Father—”
The king didn’t let him finish. “Gregory, come with me.” He pointed at several other members of the Council. “And all of you. And you, Finley.”
Dorian waited behind Gregory as the king spoke to the sentry. “Go and find Ezra Oliver in his study. We need his expertise.”
Eleanor was understandably forgotten as they left. Christopher Roffi spoke from behind her. “Please, Your Highness,” he said. She turned. Roffi held out his hand. “Would you let me see you safely back to your room?”
She nodded absently and called to Anne Iris and Margaret before taking his arm. They made their ponderous way back to Eleanor’s chambers. She found herself annoyed at Roffi’s clinging assistance. He’s just trying to be helpful, she thought, but I’m pregnant, not crippled.
When they reached her door the guard opened it and Anne Iris and Margaret disappeared inside. She turned to say goodnight to Roffi, but he did not release her.
“You looked lovely tonight, Your Highness,” he said.
She gave him a quick smile and tried to extract her arm. “Thank you, Christopher. Now I must really—”
“A vision, you were—”
“Yes, thank you,” she said, and yanked her arm loose. It was hardly the time for courtly flattery. “Thank you for escorting me. Goodnight.” She glanced at the guard. His eyes flicked to the floor.
Roffi’s jaw clenched, and to Eleanor’s surprise he flushed. She started to apologize for her rudeness, but he bowed and took his leave.
CHAPTER 26
Direr by the Moment
The next morning Eleanor, Anne Iris, and Margaret were no better informed. They dressed quickly so they’d be prepared to receive guests if anyone came to enlighten them. Throughout breakfast they picked at their food and speculated on the theft. As the chambermaids cleared the dishes there was a knock at the door. Pansy announced Raoul and Christopher Roffi.
Roffi and Raoul joined the three women in Eleanor’s sitting area. She smiled at Roffi, and to her relief he smiled back and kissed her hand as he always did. He pushed High Noon’s blanket aside and sat on the couch beside Margaret. Raoul squeezed between them.
Eleanor didn’t bother with small talk. “What news, gentlemen?” she asked.
“Nothing new, unfortunately,” said Raoul. He took Margaret’s hand. “Gregory and Dorian haven’t left the Council Hall.”
“They must not be having anything to tell,” Roffi said.
They sat in morose silence for the better part of an hour. Anne Iris made a few attempts at humor, but they fell sadly flat. Eleanor excused herself, and Anne Iris followed her to the bathing room. To Eleanor’s embarrassment she needed help managing her skirts over the pot. By the time they returned they were minus one visitor.
“Where’s Christopher?” Eleanor asked.
“He asked that we apologize for him. He’s preparing a report for his king,” said Margaret.
Eleanor envied Roffi’s sense of purpose. Raoul left half an hour later, and Eleanor and her friends searched for a way to pass the time.
“Bunco?” asked Anne Iris. “We’re only three with Eliza in the country, but we can have a ghost toss.”
Eleanor shrugged and joined Margaret and Anne Iris at the card table. They started rolling, but she could not concentrate on keeping score.
“We’re on fours, not threes,” said Margaret.
Eleanor threw down the dice. “You know I can’t stand these games.”
“Pardon,” said Anne Iris. “I’d be open to other suggestions.”
“No, I’m sorry,” said Eleanor. “We’re all worried. If only someone would tell us something!”
Chou Chou landed on the table. “I could take a turn around the palace and see if I hear anything.”
Eleanor was about to respond when she heard Pansy behind the door. She sounded uncharacteristically harried. “Sir, you can’t go in there. You can’t…stop… you must be announced!”
“Who—”
Margaret didn’t need to finish the question to have it answered. Ezra Oliver flung open the door. Two armed guards followed him.
Eleanor stood as quickly as her belly would allow. “Mister Oliver, may I help you?”
Pansy rushed in behind him. “I tried to stop him, Your Highness.”
Eleanor waved at her. “It’s fine, Pansy.” She tried again. “Mister Oliver, what do you want?”
He didn’t answer. He walked across the room to her desk. He opened the drawers and pushed ribbons and packets of powder out of the way. He picked up her mother’s music box. He opened it and took out the cracked slipper, wrapped in its green and purple bag, and set it on the desk. He turned the box over and shook it.
“Put that down, sir,” Eleanor said.
Oliver ignored her. His eyes fell on the red blanket on the couch, and he picked it up. He reached his hands into the small pockets lining the edge of the blanket, where Cyril Brice had long ago stored hoof picks and curry combs. He removed a red and black silk bag, about the size of an apple.
“What is this, Your Highness?” he asked, holding it toward her.
“I have no idea,” said Eleanor. “I’ve never seen it before.”
“Really,” he said. “Then how did it get here?”
Eleanor felt a prick of anger. “Since I’ve never seen it before, I wouldn’t know.”
He loosened the ribbon and a round object dropped into his hand. Eleanor’s face went clammy as she recognized a lump of crude Fire-iron.
“You’ve never seen this either, I suppose?” asked Oliver.
“Never.”
“I find that difficult to believe, since I found a tracking spell that could trace it, and here it is.”
“That’s impossible,” said Eleanor, shaking her head. “How could I have stolen it? I can’t perform magic. How could I make it disappear from underneath the noses of a Unicorn Guard?”
“Someone put it there,” said Anne Iris.
Oliver slipped Caleb’s Horn back in the black and red bag. “You may not be able to perform magic yourself, but your dear friends at the Abbey are capable.”
“Rosemary? She’s a teacher, not a conjurer. If I recall, you are the most powerful magician in Cartheigh. The person capable of the most elaborate magic could very well be behind the most elaborate magical crime in history.” Eleanor started for the door. “I’m going to speak with the king.”
“I think not,” said Oliver. “He commanded the Horn be brought straight to him if it was found.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“No. The king’s orders said the thief was to be contained.”
“Thief?”
“That’s what we must assume, is it not?” He spoke with the two guards. “Keep her here. Don’t let her leave this room, nor these two, not even the bird. I’ll speak with the king. He’ll decide what’s to be done.”
Eleanor tried to pass the soldiers but they crossed their lances in front of her.
“Don’t make it worse for yourself, lady. Especially not in your condition,” said Oliver. He slipped the bag in his pocket, turned without bowing, and left.
Eleanor’s legs started to give way. Margaret and Anne Iris helped her to the bed. Margaret knelt in front of her. “This is a mistake,” she said. “There will be an explanation.”
Eleanor’s fist went to her eyes. “Of course. An explanation.” In her opinion the explanation had just walked out the door.
Dorian and Gregory paced across the king’s receiving room. Every few circles they passed each other, like dancers in a reel. Casper sat on his throne, watching them. “Stand still, both of you!” he barked. “You’re making me ill.”
Dorian leaned against the window. He jaw ached from grinding his teeth for hours. The situation grew direr by the moment. The unfathomable magical theft, the accusations against Eleanor, and now Oliver’s latest disturbing revelation.
“Roffi,” th
e king said for the twentieth time. “Christopher Roffi.”
“Tell us again what happened,” Gregory said to Oliver.
Oliver sat in a chair beside the king. His face looked like a dirt road after a hailstorm. His mouth was lacerated and he’d lost several teeth. He held a wet cloth to his blackened eye.
He sighed, but did as Gregory asked. “After I discovered the Horn in the princess’s room I hid it in my pocket and came directly here. I took the kitchen passageway, the one that leads to the Covey, to avoid the Great Hall. Halfway through the passage Roffi and his men came at me from behind. You can see the result of our meeting.” Oliver dipped the cloth into the bowl of medicinal water at his feet. “All three of his magicians hitting me with firepower at once…a lesser sorcerer would have been killed out right. Thank HighGod for my own strength.”
“You Majesty,” Dorian said. “Something is not right. Princess Eleanor could not possibly have taken the Horn.”
“Then give me another solution, Finley,” Oliver said thickly, through his swollen lips.
“Obviously someone stole it by magical means and planted it in her room.”
“Or,” said Oliver, “she was obviously involved with Roffi. Haven’t there been rumors for months? Look at my face. He followed me and ambushed me! She must have been about to give it over to him.”
Gregory’s hands had rarely left his hair since last night, and it stood up in wild spikes all over his head. “Has there been any news of Roffi?” he asked. “That bastard.”
“By the time I woke he was gone, and the Horn gone with him. He’s long out of the city by now,” said Oliver.
“She asked me to take her to see it. The Horn. Last fall. I should have—”
“Does that surprise you?” Dorian couldn’t believe how little Gregory understood about his own wife. “You took her to the Mines. She was studying the Bond. Of course she wanted to see the Horn…it was a very…” He shook his head in frustration. “Very…Eleanor-ish…request!”
Gregory did not seem to hear him. He rattled on. “Why? Why would she do it?”
“She must be in love with him!” said Oliver to Gregory. “Let’s be honest, Your Highness, you and the princess have not always had a felicitous marriage. The Svelyan king wanted the Horn, and Roffi got it by playing on the princess’s female vanities. Maybe she planned to go with him.”
The Cracked Slipper Page 28