Читать книгу The Oracle’s Queen - Lynn Flewelling - Страница 11

Tamír’s first official audience was held in the villa courtyard. Flanked by her friends and new guard, she entered the winter-brown gardens to find a restless crowd of warriors, wizards, and frightened guild masters awaiting her, anxious for news.

She looked around, searching out familiar faces, and spotted Nikides slumped in an armchair near the fountain, talking with Lynx and Iya.

“I didn’t expect to see you up and around yet,” she exclaimed, oblivious to all the eyes following her as she strode over to give him an awkward hug.

“Healer’s orders,” he rasped. His round, unshaven face was parchment pale, but his eyes were shining with wonder as he stared at her.

She took his hand. “I’m so sorry about your grandfather. We could do with his counsel now.”

He nodded sadly. “He would have served you, and so will I.” He looked more closely at her. “You really are a girl. By the Light, I wanted to believe it, but it didn’t seem possible. I hope you’ll make me your court historian. I believe there are going to be wondrous things to record.”

“The post is yours. But I’m also in need of Companions. I’d like you and Lynx to be the first, along with Ki, of course.”

Nikides laughed. “Are you sure you want me? You already know what a poor swordsman I am.”

“You have other talents.” She turned to Lynx. His dark eyes were still haunted, even when he smiled. “What about you?”

“Be Lord Nikides’ squire, you mean? Lord Tharin did suggest it.”

“No. You’re my friend, and you’ve stood by me. I’m raising you to full Companion. You’ll both have to find squires of your own.”

Lynx blinked at her in surprise. “I’m honored, Highness, and you have my loyalty always! But you do know my father was only a knight? I’m a second son, with no holdings of my own.”

Tamír faced the assembly, hand on her sword hilt. “You all heard that, I suppose? Well, listen well. Loyal men and women who serve me well will be judged on their merits, not by their birth. There’s not a noble in Skala whose ancestors were born with circlets on their heads. If it is Illior’s will that I rule Skala, then I want it known that I look to people’s hearts and acts, not their birth. Nikides, you can record that as one of my first decrees if you like.”

She couldn’t tell if he was coughing or laughing as he bowed to her from his chair. “I shall make a note of it, Highness.”

“Let it be known that anyone I choose to elevate will be accorded as much respect as a noble of six generations. By the same token, I won’t think twice about taking away the title and holdings of those who prove themselves unworthy.”

She caught warning looks from Tharin and Iya, but most of the crowd cheered.

She turned to Una next. “What do you say, Lady Una? Will you join our ranks too?”

Una fell to one knee and offered her sword. “With all my heart, Highness!”

“That’s settled, then.”

Lynx knelt, too, and she drew her sword again and touched him on the shoulder. “I name you Lord—Wait, what’s your real name?”

Nikides seemed about to supply that bit of information, but Lynx stopped him with a sharp glance. “I’ve been called Lynx for so long, it feels like my true name. I’d remain so, if that’s acceptable.”

“As you like,” said Tamír. “I name you Lord Lynx, with lands and holdings to be determined later. Lady Una, I also accept your fealty. Your first charge as my Companions is to take good care of my royal chronicler. And yourselves,” she added with a warning look at Lynx.

Lynx gave her a guilty nod. “Bilairy doesn’t seem to want me yet, Highness.”

“Good. I can’t spare you.”

With that settled, she took the chair that had been set out for her and turned her attention to the assembled nobles. “My friends, I thank all of you for what you’ve done. I’ll be honest with you, as well. I don’t know exactly what’s going to happen next. It seems I must go against my cousin, and anyone who upholds Korin’s claim to the throne. I do not want a civil war, but it could come to that. If any of you has had second thoughts about backing me, you’re free to go. No one will stop you. But go now.”

Silence greeted this offer, and no one moved. After a moment Lord Jorvai came forward and knelt before her, offering his sword. “I swore fealty to you on the battlefield, Highness, but I do so again before these witnesses. Accept Colath as your sworn ally.”

“And Illear,” Kyman said.

One by one, all the others reasserted their oaths. No one left.

Tamír stood and raised her hand to them. “I don’t hold the Sword of Ghërilain, or wear the crown, but with the authority of Illior and before these witnesses, I accept your fealty, confirm your holdings, and count you as my dear friends. I will never forget the sight of your banners coming to my aid when I needed you most.”

When she’d finished with the oaths, Tamír turned to the guild masters and mistresses who’d been waiting nervously for her attention. One after the other, men and women wearing the insignias of their offices knelt and pledged the loyalty of their guilds. Butchers, smiths, carters, bakers, masons—it seemed an endless stream, but Tamír was glad for a chance to mark the leaders of the city’s common classes.

Finally, with the sun almost at midday, she came to Iya and the wizards.

“Your valor during the battle will not be forgotten. My lords and good people, I ask you to honor these brave wizards.”

The throng bowed or cheered with varying degrees of enthusiasm. In spite of all the wizards had done, she knew that Niryn and his Harriers had left a bad taste in the mouths of many—one that made them regard all wizards with a degree of suspicion. In fact, the free wizards of Skala had always had a mixed reputation. For every grave and serious wizard like Iya, or kindly one like Arkoniel, there were a hundred ha’penny cheats and market fair conjurers. And there were those who, like Niryn, attached themselves to the rich and powerful for their own ends. While Tamír had her own reasons for mistrust, she owed a great deal already to the nineteen wizards Iya presented.

Some wore robes, but most were dressed like merchants or minor nobles. Others looked like humble travelers, and at least half of them bore wounds from the battle. She was glad to see the fair-haired young mind-clouder, Eyoli, among them. He’d helped her reach Atyion during the battle and nearly lost his life in the process.

Two of the wizards presented, Dylias and Zagur, looked as old as Iya. Kiriar and a very pretty woman introduced as Elisera of Almak, appeared to be Arkoniel’s age, although Tamír knew enough of wizards to realize that their true ages were as hard to guess as any Aurënfaie’s.

The last woman presented was by far the most intriguing. Grey-eyed Saruel of Khatme was Aurënfaie, and wore the elaborate red-and-black headcloth, or sen’gai, and the black robes of her people. The fine black facial tattoos and jewelry that also distinguished that clan made her age difficult to guess at, and since Aurënfaie aged even more slowly than Skalan wizard-born, the guess would probably have been wrong.

Tamír’s friend, Arengil of Gedre, had taught her something of his people’s ways. “May Aura be with you in the light, Saruel of Khatme,” she said, placing her hand over her heart and bowing.

Saruel solemnly returned the gesture, her head tilted a bit to the left, as if she had trouble hearing. “And in the darkness, Tamír ä Ariani Agnalain of Skala.”

“I thought all the ’faie left Ero when the Harriers began burning wizards and priests?”

“I was one of those who shared the vision given to Mistress Iya. Aura Illustri, known to you as Illior Lightbearer, smiles upon you. Your uncle committed great evils upon your land and spat in the face of our god. You are the light sent to drive away the darkness spread by the Usurper and his dark wizards. It is my duty, and my great honor, to support you in whatever way I can.”

“I welcome your aid and your wisdom.” Such pledges were never lightly made to outsiders—Tirfaie, as the Aurënfaie called short-lived humankind. “Mistress Iya, how should I reward you and your people for your service?”

“We are not tradesmen or mercenaries, come to present a bill, Highness. You know of my vision about you, yet you don’t know the extent of what I’ve done to bring that vision to fruition.

“While you grew, Arkoniel and I traveled this land, seeking out others who’d had been granted so much as a glimpse of that same vision. Some of them stand here before you now. Others await word to join us and aid you. Not all of them are powerful, but the Lightbearer has called them nonetheless, to protect you, the queen who must be.

“I tell you now, before all these witnesses, that we were not charged by the Lightbearer simply to help you to this point, then walk away—”

“That’s the same sort of talk we heard from that traitor Niryn, when he gathered his gang together,” Kyman interrupted. “He claimed they were serving the throne, too. I mean no disrespect to you, Mistress, or any of your friends, nor do I discount what you’ve done. But I’m not the only Skalan who’s a bit skittish, seeing too many of your kind together in one place again.” He turned and bowed deeply to Tamír. “Forgive my plain speech, Highness, but it’s the truth.”

“I know better than you what Niryn did, my lord. Mistress Iya, what is it you’re proposing?”

“I understand the fears Niryn and his ilk have bred,” she replied calmly. “My ‘kind’ and I know still better than you, Highness, or anyone else here, the evil the Harriers practiced.”

She reached into a fold of her gown and held up a large silver brooch inset with the copper flame of Sakor. “The Harriers imposed these on us.” The others held up brooches of their own, all except Arkoniel and Eyoli. Numbers were stamped on the back of each, a different one for each wizard. Iya’s was marked 222.

“They listed us in their ledgers like cattle.” Iya tossed the brooch on the pavement at her feet. The other wizards did the same, making a small, glittering pile. “Every free wizard in Ero was made to wear one of these,” she went on bitterly. “Those who resisted burned. Wizards who’d sworn to aid you were among them, Highness. I felt the flames as they died. Niryn meant to teach us our place, teach us to fear, but instead, he made me remember something.

“Most wizards are solitary by nature, it’s true, but in the time of your ancestor and the Great War, many of us came together with the queen and fought against the Plenimarans and their necromancers. The great chroniclers of that age credit them with stemming the tide of war.

“Niryn and his white-robed murderers reminded me what wizards can accomplish by joining forces. If the Harriers could create such power for evil, then isn’t great good also possible? I swear to you by our most sacred oath, Highness—by Illior’s Light and by my hands, heart, and eyes—that the wizards who stand before you today seek to forge a union for the good of Skala, as in the days of your ancestor, and to support you, Illior’s chosen one. We have no greater desire than that. With your permission, we would demonstrate our good faith and the power of unity before these witnesses.”

“Go ahead.”

Iya and the others formed a circle around the cast-off brooches. Iya raised her hands over them and the metal melted into a steaming puddle. Dylias waved a hand and the metal formed into a perfect sphere. At Kiriar’s command it floated up to eye level. Zagur made a sigil on the air with a polished wooden wand and the sphere flattened to a disk, forming itself into a silver mirror. Saruel stepped forward and wove a pattern on the air and the edges were transformed into a delicate frame of Aurënfaie floral tracery. Finally, Arkoniel cast a spell on the air, opening a small black portal. The mirror disappeared into it and dropped out of thin air into Tamír’s hands. The metal was still warm.

She held it up, admiring the exquisite workmanship. The intertwined copper leaves and vines that framed it were as good as anything she’d seen in a silversmith’s stall.

“It’s lovely!” She handed it to Ki to see, and it passed from hand to hand around the courtyard.

“I’m glad it pleases you, Highness. Please accept this as a gift of the Third Orëska,” said Iya.

“The what?” asked Illardi.

“Orëska is an Aurënfaie word meaning mage-born,” Iya explained. “Their magic passed by blood to our people, the free wizards, or Second Orëska. We are different in our powers than the ’faie, and often not as powerful. But now we mean to make a new kind of magic and a new way of practicing it, as you have just seen. Thus, we are a new, third sort.”

“And your Third Orëska will serve Skala?” asked Kyman.

“Yes, my lord. It is Illior’s will.”

“And you want nothing in return?” Kyman still looked skeptical.

“We ask only for the queen’s trust, my lord, and a safe place to nurture and teach the wizard-born.”

Tamír heard a few snorts and mutterings from the crowd but she ignored them, thinking of the orphans Arkoniel had already gathered and protected—just like he and Iya had protected her. “You will have it, as long as I have your loyalty.

“Now, we must turn our thoughts to Ero. Duke Illardi, what do you have to report?”

“The winter crops were not much damaged by the Plenimarans, but the grain stores were lost. If the spring crops aren’t planted, you risk starvation by winter. At the moment, however, it’s shelter and disease that most concern me. If the people scatter away to other cities, they may carry illness with them. But you can’t expect them to live on the plain in tents forever, either. Some sort of succor must be given, or you’ll have a rebellion on your hands before you’ve even begun.”

“Of course, they must be helped.”

“And they must know their help comes from you, Highness,” said Tharin. “Atyion has ample stores to draw from. Send for food, clothing, and lumber. Those the drysians deem healthy could be allowed to go there, or wherever they have kin. The rest must be looked after here.”

Tamír nodded. “Send word to my steward there at once. Lady Lytia knows best what to do. I’ve also decided to make Atyion my new capital. It’s defensible and has the resources to supply and house an army. With the treasury at Ero lost, I’ve little to work with here.

“Now, regarding Korin. I need to know where he is and if he can be reasoned with. I need to know how many wizards Niryn has with him, too. As long as old Fox Beard is with my cousin, I believe he’ll be a poisonous influence. Jorvai, Kyman, I want you to organize scouting parties. Make arrangements among your best riders and report back to me this afternoon. Thank you all again for your support.”

The audience had gone well enough, but speaking for so long had left Tamír tired and off-balance. As a young prince, she’d been groomed for leadership, but she still felt far more at home on the battlefield with a sword in her hand. These people were not asking her simply to win a battle, but decide the fate of the land.

All that, and learn to walk in skirts, she amended sourly as the assembly broke up. It was quite enough for one morning.

She caught Ki by the elbow and drew him away with her. “Come on, I need to walk.”

“You did well,” he exclaimed softly, falling in beside her.

“I hope so.” She made her way up to the wall walk overlooking the harbor and the distant citadel. The long hem of her dress was a hazard on the ladder. She caught her foot and nearly fell on top of him.

“Damnation! Give me a moment.” She braced her feet on the rungs and pulled up the edge of the skirt and undergown, tucking the hems into her leather girdle the way Iya had shown her. It worked rather well. By the time she reached the top of the ladder, she already had an idea for a special sort of brooch for the purpose. Her fingers itched for a stylus and tablet.

The sentries on duty bowed respectfully as they passed. She and Ki paced the wall for a while, then stopped at an empty embrasure and leaned on the parapet, watching the gulls circling over the waves. The day was clear, the water green and silver in the afternoon light. If she only looked east, the world seemed clean and free. Behind her, the city still smoldered, a blackened ruin, and the beaches were littered with broken ships.

“All that you said about advancing men on merit, and loyalty being rewarded? They could tell you meant it,” Ki said at last. “You had the heart of every warrior in that yard! I saw Iya whispering to Arkoniel, too. I bet even she was impressed.”

Tamír frowned out at the sea.

Ki rested a hand on her shoulder. “I know you’re still angry at her about all that’s happened, and the way they lied to you. But I’ve been thinking it over and I see why they did all that.

“I’m mad at them, too,” he went on. “Well, mostly Arkoniel, since he was the one we knew best. Only … Well, I’ve been thinking. Don’t you suppose maybe it was hard on him, too? I see the way he watches you, and how proud he looks sometimes, but sad, too. Maybe you ought to give him another chance?”

Tamír gave him a grudging shrug. Anxious to change the subject, she tugged at the skirt of her gown. “So you don’t think I look like a complete fool in this?”

“Well, I’m still getting used to it,” Ki admitted.

“And I have to squat to piss,” she muttered.

“Does it hurt? Where your cock and balls came off, I mean? I damn near fainted when that happened.”

Tamír shuddered at the memory. “No, it doesn’t hurt, but I can’t let myself think much on it. I just feel—empty there. I don’t mind the tits half so much as that. It’s like I’m one of those poor bastards the Plenimarans castrated!”

Ki grimaced and leaned in beside her, resting his shoulder against hers. She leaned gratefully into him. For a moment they just stood there, watching the gulls.

After a moment he cleared his throat and said without looking at her, “Illior might have taken that away, but you’ve got a girl’s—parts in their place, right? It’s not like you’re a eunuch or anything.”

“I guess so.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “You guess so?”

“I haven’t exactly explored,” she confessed miserably. “Every time I think of it, I feel sick.”

Ki fell silent and when she was finally able to look at him, she found he’d blushed scarlet right up to his ears. “What?”

He shook his head and leaned over the parapet, still not looking at her.

“Come on, Ki! I can tell when you’ve got something to say.”

“It’s not my place.”

“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard that from you. What is it?”

“Well—if you are a proper girl there, then—” He broke off, reddening even more.

“Bilairy’s balls, Ki, just come out with it!”

He groaned. “Well, if you are a true girl, then you haven’t really lost anything. For fuc—for fun, I mean. Girls tell me they enjoy it just as much as men do.”

Tamír couldn’t look at him either, knowing he was talking about girls he’d bedded.

“That’s what all my father’s women and my older sisters always claimed, anyway, that women are more randy than men,” he added quickly. “Maybe not the first time or two, but after that? All the ones I know claim to like doing it.”

“I guess you’d know about that,” Tamír replied.

Ki was quiet for a moment, then sighed. “You never did any of that, did you?”

“No. I didn’t fancy girls.”

Ki nodded and returned to his contemplation of the sea. They both knew whom she had fancied.