Knight Or Knave Page 19

  "Let us hope that you do not lose your merry nature anytime soon."

  Rohan gave the older man an impish smile. "Not much danger of that, my lord."

  Just then Hegrin dashed into the room, a folded paper in her hand. "Father, you forgot this!" she said, and then stopped dead in her tracks. "Rohan!" She ran to him, her silk skirts rustling, and flung her arms around his neck. "I thought you were on your way back to New Voldl Are you going to stay with us a long time?"

  "No, I'm afraid not." Rohan pried her loose and held her at arm's length. "Let me have a look at you. Only a week and you're bigger anyway. My, what a young lady you are growing up to be."

  "What is that paper?" Ashen said, past Hegrin's happy chatter that filled the room.

  Gaurin looked abashed. "It is a companion to the one young Rohan was just showing you, my dear."

  "Oh no—"

  "Don't fret, Ashen. I don't have to join the levy. At least not yet."

  "Only minor nobility," Rohan told her. "Untried youngsters, like me." He smiled again, and then allowed Hegrin to pull him to his feet.

  "I don't want to see anybody go," Hegrin declared with some vehemence. "Every time Rohan comes to our house, off he goes again the next day, it seems to me."

  "Such are the times we live in, my daughter," Gaurin said.

  "I love Rohan," Hegrin said, gazing at him adoringly. "I want to marry him someday."

  At that, Rohan burst into laughter. "Oh, no! You are as much my sister as anybody could be!" he exclaimed. "People don't marry their sisters!"

  "Oh," Hegrin said. "I didn't think of that. Well then, maybe I could put on armor and ride with you."

  "As to that, sweet sis, you are too young."

  Hegrin's usual happy expression changed and a frown crossed her brow. Her blue-green eyes clouded. 'Too young for this, too old for that, too much a sister for anything else—whatever am I good for, then?"

  Rohan laughed again and swept her up in his arms. "When you are just a little older, you will find out, that I promise. Now, come show me what you had in mind, and then I will show you my latest feats of magic. Very small magic, I promise," he said, looking at Ashen who was frowning in her turn. "Just the thing to make pretty ladies smile once more."

  Ashen shook her head. "Alas, I fear that your grandfather, much as I hate to admit it, might be right about you. Your nature is very light indeed. Promise me that the warnings I give you about the enemies you might find sitting at your elbow at the Dowager Queen's table don't flit in one ear and out the other."

  "Yes, Ashen, I promise, even though there's little chance that I'll be brushing elbows with such high company." He picked Hegrin up and settled her in the crook of one arm. "Now, excuse me, please, but I am informed that there is something that I absolutely must see this very instant. How did you two come to have such a strong-willed child?"

  "Yes, of course, by all means, go," Ashen said distractedly. She didn't wait for them to leave before she turned to Gaurin. "If not you, then who will go in the

  Dowager's Levy?"

  "There are several who would serve the purpose. My young cousin Cebastian shows a great deal of promise, and I had been thinking of elevating him to a rank just under Lathrom's if he takes to his training. He should satisfy the levy requirements very well, and also gain more experience so he will be a real asset to Lathrom, and to me as well, when he returns."

  Relieved that Gaurin himself would not be called upon to go to Rendelsham, Ashen allowed herself to smile. "Does that mean that you will never be called upon to serve?"

  "Alas, no, my dear. When the war comes—and it will come, sooner or later—all must stand ready to do their part, lest the world end, as we know it. But don't make such a long face. Let us be merry while we can. Tonight, we will feast with

  Rohan and Cebas-tian, and then send them both off with the Sea-Rovers and our contingent of Nordors to keep our brave young warriors company."

  "The trip to Galinth will have to wait," Ashen said.

  Outside in the corridor, she could hear Rohan and Hegrin. His step was gay, almost dancing, as he carried the child down the stairs. Hegrin's golden giggle floated back to her parents' hearing, and Ashen feared that despite all her warnings, Rohan was preparing to rush straight into intrigues he was ill suited to deal with.

  Fourteen

  Rohan urged his horse, Red, into a canter, impatient and ea-ger to get to

  Rendelsham and back at Court. Despite Za-zar's stringent warnings and Ashen's gloomy predictions, he actually looked forward to the experience. Rumor had it that Count Harous was going to be molding this ragtag levy from all over Rendel into a functioning army, and Rohan wanted to learn from a man who was considered one of the best at his trade.

  Nevertheless, when they came to a tiny village boasting a wayside inn and, even more important, a smithy, Rohan decided to stop there for the night. Red had developed a limp and though he couldn't find anything amiss with the animal's hoof, nevertheless he would lose little by tarrying on the road for a night or two. He sent his Sea-Rovers on with the men from the North, under the leadership of Cebastian, promising to catch up with them as soon as his mount was healthy once more. Perhaps all Red needed was a set of new shoes. One seemed loose, anyway, and if there was one thing he had learned it was never to ignore his horse's well-being.

  With Red safely stabled and the promise that the blacksmith would quickly mend what had gone wrong, Rohan paid in advance for a private room at the inn. As he was fishing the coin out of his purse, he recognized the smell of good stew and his appetite was immediately whetted. For a copper bit, the landlord gave him a big bowl of it, heavy with meat and winter vegetables, with newly baked bread as accompaniment. He finished by wiping out his bowl with a crust of bread, ate it, and then sat idly watching a Magician on the other side of the room as he prepared to pay for his own meal and lodgings with a show of Power and trickery.

  The other patrons had not yet come in to dinner, and except for the innkeeper he and the Magician were the only ones in the room. It was beginning to grow dark, and without thinking, Rohan lighted a candle on the table the Magician was using before he could strike steel to flint. The Magician turned toward him, startled.

  "My apologies, sir," Rohan said. "That was rude of me. I should have let you amaze me instead." He laughed, trying to make light of an incident for which both Ashen and Grandam Zazar would certainly have scolded him.

  The Magician returned to his preparations. The light from the candle gleamed on his face—as it changed and became that of a beautiful womanl The woman stared at

  Rohan, and he found himself unable to look away.

  No, he told himself, I am but imagining things. This is a man, a mountebank and an entertainer, and what I am seeing is only one more of his tricks. I am not looking at a woman. I am not—

  With a wrench he broke the connection, at the same time discovering that several patrons had entered the inn's common room while he had been under the man's spell. From the tenor of their comments, it was plain that none of the newcomers had seen anything out of the ordinary. The innkeeper likewise went about his business as if nothing untoward had happened—if, indeed, anything had.

  Rohan ordered a mug of ale and found a place out of the circle of light from several candles the Magician had lighted from the one he had set flame to. From the shadows, he watched the show closely. But the Magician, clearly revealed by the light, seemed no more or no less than what he appeared—a traveling trickster, pro-ducing flowers from his sleeve, passing a piece of silk over a plate and making a rabbit appear, finding coins in the ears of onlookers.

  By the time the show was over and those staying the night had sought their beds,

  Rohan had almost convinced himself that he had been seeing what did not exist.

  Nevertheless, he was glad that he had paid extra to have a room and a bed to himself, and that he could lock the door. After tossing and turning for a long time, he fell into a troubled sleep.
<
br />   In the morning, when he made inquiry, he discovered that the Magician was already gone. With a sense of relief, Rohan went to the smithy to inquire after his horse.

  "Nabbut a stone hid under th' poor beastie's shoe, where you couldn't get at it," the man said. "I fixed it up again, right as raindrops."

  "Thank you," Rohan said. He gave the man his fee, a penny, and then added another.

  The smithy grinned. "Thank'ee. I allus says a man is no better than how he treats his animals, and I judge you a right 'un, sure enough."

  "My gratitude," Rohan said. Then he saddled Red, put those articles he had removed for his night's stay back where they belonged, and got on his way once again.

  I was reckless, he thought, just the way Ashen has tried so often to tell me that I am. And stupid and foolish to boot. I will not do anything like this again.

  Red seemed renewed after having the offending pebble removed from his hoof, and as eager to be on his way as Rohan was to put this humiliating incident behind him. By pushing hard, he caught up with the company of Sea-Rovers and Nordors before they had come in sight of the blunt towers of Cragden Keep, Count

  Harous's stronghold, where, he presumed, they would be lodged.

  Count Harous's barracks were overflowing with young nobles and their soldiers when they arrived. Rohan's head began to swim from all the introductions. He recognized some of the nobles as coming directly from the Four Houses of Rendel, and others as being families allied to these Houses, or related to members of the Council.

  Somewhat to Rohan's surprise, he and Cebastian were invited that night to a banquet at Rendelsham Castle.

  "Don't give yourself airs about it," Cebastian advised. "Our arrival completes the levy. My guess is that all the minor nobles and lordlings will be there. And furthermore, I think they—that means you and me as well—will find ourselves living in the castle before long. They'll make over us and tell us that we are their honored guests, but we're surety that our own lords will come through with more men, when it should come to that."

  "You've been listening to Gaurin too long," Rohan said. He adjusted the new deep green tunic of fine wool that had been one of Ashen's parting gifts, and settled a pendant bearing the device of a ship at sea around his neck. This he had had copied from a brooch that had belonged to his father, and which he now pinned on his cap. "Or Ashen. They are both convinced that we'll be up to our necks in war before another year is out."

  "Don't forget, I was born in the North," Cebastian said. His tunic and cap were of a lighter green, and his pendant bore a device of a snarling snowcat, emblem of Gaurin's House. "I was only a child when we left for Rendel and the

  Oakenkeep, but I remember the talk. Cyornas NordornKing was the guardian of the vault below the Palace of Fire and Ice where the Great Foulness lay. He stayed behind, to delay its escape as he might, but one day it will break free and come upon us. That much I know."

  "I will take your word for it, my friend," Rohan told him, "but please forgive me if I cannot be as serious as you are about something I have never seen and possibly never will."

  "It is no crime to be merry while one has the chance."

  "That's the sort of thing Gaurin would say. Well, I agree— though some might think me a little too merry."

  Cebastian smiled. "You make hearts glad when you are near. It is a gift, my friend, and one not to be despised."

  "Then I will be grateful for it. Now, let us go and see how the Dowager is faring these days."

  The young King and his mother were not present; this seemed to be solely the

  Dowager's enterprise. As far as Rohan could tell, the Dowager had not changed in the years since he had last been in Rendelsham, on the sad occasion of his father's and the King's funerals. Only her hands, adorned with the Four Great

  Rings which he had heard held the secret of all Power in Rendel, had grown thin and were now marked with pale brown spots. Always interested in Power, he gazed at the Rings, wondering how articles so plain and unprepossessing in appearance could have such a reputation. He almost didn't notice the steward who appeared at his side, murmuring a message.

  "Please, I didn't hear you," Rohan said.

  "Our gracious lady, Her Highness the Dowager Queen Ysa, to demonstrate her gratitude to the Sea-Rovers and their loyalty, desires to honor you by seating you at the high table. This I am bid say to you, and to bring back your answer straight."

  "The honor is mine," Rohan said. He exchanged glances with Cebastian. The other merely raised one eyebrow.

  "Also, the Dowager desires to honor the Nordors, and would seat you as well at the high table. What say you, sir?"

  "Like my friend, I consider the honor mine," Cebastian said. "Pray, lead on."

  The servant showed them to their places. Cebastian's prediction had been correct. All the fledgling nobles gathered thus far were, apparently, dining in the Dowager's company this evening. With the help of some reintroductions and by reading the familial badges the young nobles wore, Rohan marked Gidon of Bilth, sent by Gattor his overlord. With him was Jivon, sent from Rowankeep, and

  Ni-kolos, who proudly led Lord Royance of Grattenbor's soldiers. Close behind

  Rohan recognized Jabez of Mimon, Vinod of Vacaster, and Reges of Lerkland. A few others, whose names neither he nor Cebastian could remember. Rohan noted that of those levies that came from the common people, none of the leaders had been invited to the Dowager's high table, but found their places well below the salt.

  Only Steuart, who claimed kinship with the House of Oak, was seated as close to the Dowager Ysa as Rohan was. The Hall was crowded by now, with many young faces among those of older courtiers. With the smoke and the noise, those beyond the table where Rohan sat dissolved into a mass of nameless people. Perhaps later they would become individuals for him.

  Ysa took her place, and with that signal, the banquet began.

  With the ease of long practice, the Dowager began to engage each of the young nobles in conversation, leaning forward graciously to address each in turn. How did their lords fare, how were conditions at home when they left, were they pleased with their housing?

  The back of Rohan's neck prickled a little at that. He exchanged glances with

  Cebastian, who winked at him. Then he became aware that the Dowager was now speaking to him.

  "And how goes life at New Void? Is all well there?"

  "Very well, both at the Oakenkeep and at New Void," Rohan said. "As Your

  Highness must know, I live part of the year at one place, and the rest at the other."

  "Ah, yes. I had almost forgotten. And your—what should we call her?—your stepmother?"

  "Lady Ashen is well, as is Count Gaurin. Both Cebastian and I left them in good health. And their daughter likewise thrives."

  "Ah. Their daughter. As token of my goodwill, accept from me this goblet of wine, as is due your exalted rank."

  Then the Dowager signaled a steward, who stepped forward and placed a goblet beside Rohan's plate. Smoothly, Ysa shifted the focus of her conversation to

  Nikolos of Grattenbor.

  The back of Rohan's neck was prickling again. By right, if one fledgling noble was to be so honored, then all should be. Both Cebastian and Jivon of Rowan probably outranked him, at least ac-cording to Rendel standards, and Nikolos of

  Grattenbor was certainly his equal. But only he had received the wine.

  Cautiously, he brought the goblet close, inhaling the fragrance. Something was wrong. Either the wine had gone sour or—No! Rohan recognized the aroma. It was an herbal potion, similar to one that Zazar used to befuddle the senses of someone when there was painful work to be done, such as setting a bone or helping a woman through a difficult birth. Grandam had warned him of such a potion, saying that under its influence he would be dazed and, for a while, liable to the control of others.

  For what reason would the Dowager want him drugged? Rohan could not fathom it, but knowing that there was danger in the goblet that he hel
d, he shifted in his chair so that his elbow seemed accidentally to bump that of Jabez of Mimon, seated next to him. The wine splashed across the tablecloth.

  "My apologies, Your Highness!" Rohan exclaimed.

  "Entirely my fault, Your Highness," Jabez said. "I fear that my clumsiness has resulted in a stain on your fine linen."

  "It is of no importance," the Dowager said, though Rohan thought he detected a frown. A certain coldness came over her manner. She gestured to a steward to come and mop up the worst of the spill. "Later, we will have entertainment, and dancing. May I recommend to you, Rohan, one of my damsels-in-waiting? Her name is Anamara and I fancy that you might have a great deal in common."