Author: Sherwood Smith
Quotes of Author: Sherwood Smith
Out of the first carriage stepped Bran, his hair loose and shining under a rakish plumed hat. He was dressed in a magnificent tunic and glossy high blackweave riding boots, with a lined cloak slung over one shoulder. He grinned at me--then he turned and, with a gesture of practiced grace that made me blink, handed out a lady. I gawked in dismay at the impressive hat and muffling cloak that spanned a broad skirt, and looked down at myself, in an old skirt Oria had discarded, a worn tunic that I hadn't bothered to change after my sword lesson that morning, and my bare feet. Then I noticed that Julen and Oria had vanished. I stood there all alone.In fine style Bran escorted the mysterious lady to the new slate steps leading to the big double doors where I stood, but then he dropped her arm and bounded up, grabbing me in a big hug and swinging me around. "Sister!" He gave me a resounding kiss and set me down. "Place looks wonderful!""You have let me know you were bringing a guest," I whispered."And spoil a good surprise?" he asked, indicating the lady, who was still standing on the first step. "We have plenty of room, and as you'd told me in your letter the place isn't such a rattrap anymore, I thought why not make the trip fun and bring 'em?""'Them?'" I repeated faintly, but by then I already had my answer, for the outriders had resolved into a lot of liveried servants who were busy unloading coaches and helping stablehands. Through the midst of them strolled a tall, elegant man in a heel-length black cloak. I looked at the familiar gray eyes, the long yellow hair--it was the Marquis of Shevraeth. book-quoteLady Meliara?" There was a tap outside the door, and Oria's mother, Julen, lifted the tapestry. Oria and I both stared in surprise at the three long sticks she carried so carefully."More Fire Sticks?" I asked. "In midwinter?""Just found them outside the gate." Julen laid them down, looked from one of us to the other, and went out.Oria grinned at me. "Maybe they're a present. You did save the Covenant last year, and the Hill Folk know it."" didn't do it," I muttered. "All I did was make mistakes."Oria crossed her arms. "Not mistakes. Misunderstandings. Those, at least, can be fixed. Which is all the more reason to go to Court--""And what?" I asked sharply. "Get myself into trouble again?"Oria stood silently, and suddenly I was aware of the social gulf between us, and I knew she was as well. It happened like that sometimes. We'd be working side by side, cleaning or scraping or carrying, and then a liveried equerry would dash up the road with a letter, and suddenly I was the countess and she the servant who waited respectfully for me to read my letter and discuss it or not as I saw fit."I'm sorry," I said immediately, stuffing the Marquise's letter into the pocket of my faded, worn old gown. "You know how I feel about Court, even if Bran has changed his mind.""I promise not to jaw on about it again, but let me say it this once. You need to make your peace," Oria said quietly. "You left your brother and the Marquis without so much as a by-your-leave, and I think it's gnawing at you. Because you keep watching that road."I felt my temper flare, but I didn't say anything because I knew she was right. Or half right. And I wasn't angry with I tried my best to dismiss my anger and force myself to smile. "Perhaps you may be right, and I'll write to Bran by and by. But here, listen to this!" And I picked up the book I'd been reading before the letter came. "This is one of the ones I got just before the snows closed the roads: 'And in several places throughout the world there are caves with ancient paintings and Iyon Daiyin glyphs.'" I looked up from the book. "Doesn't that make you want to jump on the back of the nearest horse and ride and ride until you find these places?"Oria shuddered. "Not me. I like it fine right here at home.""Use your imagination!" I read on. "'Some of the caves depict constellations never seen in our skies--'" I stopped when we heard the pealing of bells. Not the melodic pattern of the time changes, but the clang of warning bells at the guardhouse just down the road."Someone's coming!" I exclaimed.Oria nodded, brows arched above her fine, dark eyes. "And the Hill Folk saw them." She pointed at the Fire Sticks."'Them?'" I repeated, then glanced at the Fire Sticks and nodded. "Means a crowd, true enough."Julen reappeared then, and tapped at the door. "Countess, I believe we have company on the road."She looked in, and I said, "I hadn't expected anyone." Then my heart thumped, and I added, "It could be the fine weather has melted the snows down-mountain--d'you think it might be Branaric at last? I don't see how it could be anyone else!""Branaric needs three Fire Sticks?" Oria asked."Maybe he's brought lots of servants?" I suggested doubtfully. "Perhaps his half year at Court has given him elaborate tastes, ones that only a lot of servants can see to. Or he's hired artisans from the capital to help forward our work on the castle. I hope it's artisans," I added."Either way, we'll be wanted to find space for these newcomers," Julen said to her daughter. She picked up the Fire Sticks again and looked over her shoulder at me. "You ought to put on one of those gowns of your mother's that we remade, my lady.""For my brother?" I laughed, pulling my blanket closer about me as we slipped out of my room. "I don't need to impress him, even if he has gotten used to Court ways! book-quoteHow about writing to your brother?" Oria asked at last.
"Bran is good, and kind, and as honest as the stars are old," I said, "but the more I read, the more I realize that he has no political sense at all. He takes people as he finds them. I don't think he'd have the first notion about what makes a good or bad ruler."
Oria nodded slowly. "In fact, I suspect he would not even like being asked." She gave me a straight look. "There is one person you could ask, and that is the Marquis of Shevraeth."
"Ask the putative next king to evaluate his rival? Not even I would do that," I said with a grimace. "No."
"Then you could go to Court and evaluate them yourself," she stated. "Why not? Everything is finished here, or nearly. We have peace in the county, and as for the house, you made me steward. Will you trust me to carry your plans forward?"
"Of course I will," I said impatiently. "But that's not the issue. I won't go to Court. I don't want to…"
"Don't want to what?" Oria persisted.
I sighed. "Don't want to relive the old humiliations."
"What humiliations?" she asked, her eyes narrowed as she studied me. "Mel, the whole country thinks you a heroine for facing down Galdran."
"Not everyone," I muttered. Oria crossed her arms. "Which brings us right back," she said, "to that Marquis."
I sighed again. "If I never see him again, I will be content--"
"You'll not," Oria said firmly.
I shook my head and looked out sightlessly at the snow, my mind instead reliving memories of the year before. I could just picture how he must have described our encounters--always in that drawling voice, with his courtier's wit--for the edification of the sophisticates at Court. How much laughter had every noble in the kingdom enjoyed at the expense of the barefoot, ignorant Countess Meliara Astiar of Tlanth? book-quoteI'd been proud of the parlor, over which I had spent a great deal of time. The ceiling had inlaid tiles in the same summer-sky blue that comprised the main color of the rugs and cushions and the tapestry on the wall opposite the newly glassed windows. Now I sneaked a look at the Marquis, dreading an expression of amusement or disdain. But his attention seemed to be reserved for the lady as he led her to the scattering of cushions before the fireplace, where she knelt down with a graceful sweeping of her skirts. Bran went over and opened the fire vents.
"If I'd known of your arrival, it would have been warm in here."
Bran looked over his shoulder in surprise. "Well, where d'you spend your days? Not still in the kitchens?"
"In the kitchens and the library and wherever else I'm needed," I said; and though I tried to sound cheery, it came out sounding resentful. "I'll be back after I see about food and drink."
Feeling very much like I was making a cowardly retreat, I ran down the long halls to the kitchen, cursing my bad luck as I went. There I found Julen, Oria, the new cook, and his assistant all standing in a knot talking at once. As soon as I appeared, the conversation stopped.
Julen and Oria turned to face me--Oria on the verge of laughter.
"The lady can have the new rose room, and the lord the corner suite next to your brother. But they've got an army of servants with them, Countess," Julen said heavily. Whenever she called me Countess, it was a sure sign she was deeply disturbed over something. "Where'll we house There's no space in our wing, not till we finish the walls."
"And who's to wait on whom?" Oria asked as she carefully brought my mother's good silver trays out from the wall-shelves behind the new-woven coverings. "Glad we've kept these polished," she added.
"I'd say find out how many of those fancy palace servants are kitchen trained, and draft 'em. And then see if some of the people from that new inn will come up, for extra wages. can unpocket the extra pay," I said darkly, "if he's going to make a habit of disappearing for half a year and reappearing with armies of retainers. As for housing, well, the garrison does have a new roof, so they can all sleep there. We've got those new Fire Sticks to warm 'em up with."
"What about meals for your guests?" Oria said, her eyes wide.
I'd told Oria last summer that she could become steward of the house. While I'd been ordering books on trade, and world history, and governments, she had been doing research on how the great houses were currently run; and it was she who had hired Demnan, the new cook. We'd eaten well over the winter, thanks to his genius.
I looked at Oria. "This is it. No longer just us, no longer practice, it's time to dig out all your plans for running a fine house for a noble family. Bran and his two Court guests will need something now after their long journey, and I have no idea what's proper to offer Court people."
"Well, I do," Oria said, whirling around, hands on hips, her face flushed with pleasure. "We'll make you proud, I promise."
I sighed. "Then…I guess I'd better go back."
As I ran to the parlor, pausing only to ditch my blanket in an empty room, I steeled myself to be polite and pleasant no matter how much my exasperating brother inadvertently provoked me--but when I pushed aside the tapestry at the door, they weren't there.
And why should they be? This was Branaric's home, too. book-quoteSpeaking of busy, what make you of this?" I held out the letter.
Oria took it and frowned slightly as she read. When she reached the end, she said, "It seems straightforward enough, except…Merindar. Isn't she some relation to the old king?"
"Sister," I said. "The Marquise of Merindar."
"Isn't she a princess?"
"While they ruled, the Merindars only gave the title 'prince' or 'princess' to their chosen heir. She carried the family title, which predates their years on the throne."
Oria nodded, pursing her lips. "So what does this mean?"
"That's what I'm trying to figure out. I did help bring about the downfall of her brother. I think a nasty letter threatening vengeance, awful as it would be to get, would be more understandable than this."
Oria smiled. "Seems honest enough. She wants to meet you."
"But why? And why now? And what's this about 'guidance'?"
Oria looked back at the letter, her dark brows slightly furrowed, then whistled softly. "I missed that, first time through. What do you think she's hinting at, that she thinks the new king ought not to be king?"
"That is the second thing I've been wondering about," I said. "If she'd make a good ruler, then she ought to be supported…"
"Well, would she?"
"I don't know anything about her."
Oria handed the letter back, and she gave me a crooked grin. "Do you want to support her bid for the crown, or do you just want to see the Marquis of Shevraeth defeated?"
"That's the third thing on my mind," I said. "I have to admit that part of me--the part that still rankles at my defeat last year--wants him to be a bad king. But that's not being fair to the country. If he's good, then he should be king. This concerns all the people of Remalna, their safety and well-being, and not just the feelings of one sour countess."
"Who can you ask, then?"
"I don't know. The people who would know her best are all at Court, and I wouldn't trust any of as far as I could throw this castle. book-quotePROLOGUESoon after Father's death we discovered the latest, and worst, of King Galdran's acts: He was going to betray our Covenant with the mysterious and magical Hill Folk in order to harvest and sell the fabulous colorwood trees, which grow nowhere else in the world. The forests have been home to the Hill Folk since long before humans settled in Remalna. The Covenant made with the Hill Folk centuries before our time guaranteed that so long as we left the forests--common trees as well as our fabulous colorwoods--uncut, they would give us magical Fire Sticks each fall, which burned warmly until at least midsummer.So, untrained and ill prepared, Branaric and I commenced our revolt.It was a disaster.Oh, we were successful enough at first, when the huge army the King sent against us was led by his cowardly, bullying cousin Baron Debegri. But when the Marquis of Shevraeth--son of the Prince and Princess of Renselaeus--replaced Debegri, we lost ground steadily. I stumbled into a steel trap our side had set out in a desperate attempt to slow up Shevraeth's army, was caught, and was taken by the Marquis to the capital, where the King condemned me to death without permitting me to speak a word in my defense.But I escaped--with help--and limped my way back toward home, chased by two armies. Both Branaric and I nearly got killed before we found out that some of King Galdran's Court aristocrats--led by the Marquis of Shevraeth--had actually been working to get rid of the King without launching civil war.King Galdran and Baron Debegri forced us into a final battle, in which they were killed. After that Branaric rode with the Marquis and his allies to the royal palace Athanarel in Remalna-city, the capital, and I retreated home. As a reward for our aid, Shevraeth--who was favored to become the new king--turned over Galdran's personal fortune to Branaric and me.That much, I know, is in the records.What the scribes don't tell, because they don't know, is exactly how--and why--I subsequently got mixed up again in royal affairs.It began with a letter from the Marquise of Merindar--sister of the late King Galdran. book-quote
