Loss of prestige? In what way?" I asked.
He sat back, his eyes glinting with amusement. "First there was the matter of a--very--public announcement of a pending execution, following which the intended victim escapes. Then…didn't you stop to consider that the countryside folk who endured many long days of constant martial interference in the form of searches, curfews, and threats might have a few questions about the justice of said threats--or the efficacy of all these armed and mounted soldiery tramping through their fields and farms unsuccessfully trying to flush a single unarmed, rather unprepossessing individual? Especially when said individual took great care not to endanger anyone beyond the first--anonymous--family to give her succor, to whom she promised there would be no civil war?"
I gasped. "I never promised that. How could I? I promised that Bran and I wouldn't carry our fight into their territory."
Shevraeth's smile was wry. "But you must know how gossip gets distorted when it burns across the countryside, faster than a summer hayfire. And you had given the word of a countess. You have to remember that a good part of our…influence…is vouchsafed in our status, after the manner of centuries of habit. It is a strength and a weakness, a good and an evil."
I winced, thinking of Ara, who knew more about history than I did.
"Though you seem to be completely unaware of it, you have become a heroine to the entire kingdom. What is probably more important to you is that your cause is now on everyone's lips, even if--so far--it's only being whispered about. With the best will in the world, Galdran's spies could only find out what was being said, but not by whom. Imagine, if you can, the effect."
I tried. Too tired to actually think of much beyond when I might lay my head down, and where, I looked across the room at that bed--then away quickly--and said as stoutly as I could, "I hope it skewered him good."
"He's angry enough to be on his way to face us, but we shall discuss it later. Permit me to suggest that you avail yourself of the room next to your brother's, which was hastily excavated last night. We'll be using this place as our command post for the next day or so."
I wavered to my feet, swayed, leaned against the wall. "Yes. Well." I tried to think of something appropriate to say, but nothing came to mind.
So I walked out and found my way to the room, unlatched the door. A tiny corner hearth radiated a friendly heat from a fire. A fire--they used a Fire Stick just for me. Was there a family somewhere doing without? Or did the Hill Folk know--somehow--of the Marquis's cause, and had they tendered their approval by giving his people extras? I shook my head, beyond comprehending anything. Near the fireplace was a campbed, nicely set up, with a bedroll all stretched out and waiting, and a folded cloak for a pillow. Somehow I got my muddy, soggy clothes off and slid the wallet with Debegri's letter under the folded-cloak pillow. Then I climbed into that bed, and I don't remember putting my head down.
He sat back, his eyes glinting with amusement. "First there was the matter of a--very--public announcement of a pending execution, following which the intended victim escapes. Then…didn't you stop to consider that the countryside folk who endured many long days of constant martial interference in the form of searches, curfews, and threats might have a few questions about the justice of said threats--or the efficacy of all these armed and mounted soldiery tramping through their fields and farms unsuccessfully trying to flush a single unarmed, rather unprepossessing individual? Especially when said individual took great care not to endanger anyone beyond the first--anonymous--family to give her succor, to whom she promised there would be no civil war?"
I gasped. "I never promised that. How could I? I promised that Bran and I wouldn't carry our fight into their territory."
Shevraeth's smile was wry. "But you must know how gossip gets distorted when it burns across the countryside, faster than a summer hayfire. And you had given the word of a countess. You have to remember that a good part of our…influence…is vouchsafed in our status, after the manner of centuries of habit. It is a strength and a weakness, a good and an evil."
I winced, thinking of Ara, who knew more about history than I did.
"Though you seem to be completely unaware of it, you have become a heroine to the entire kingdom. What is probably more important to you is that your cause is now on everyone's lips, even if--so far--it's only being whispered about. With the best will in the world, Galdran's spies could only find out what was being said, but not by whom. Imagine, if you can, the effect."
I tried. Too tired to actually think of much beyond when I might lay my head down, and where, I looked across the room at that bed--then away quickly--and said as stoutly as I could, "I hope it skewered him good."
"He's angry enough to be on his way to face us, but we shall discuss it later. Permit me to suggest that you avail yourself of the room next to your brother's, which was hastily excavated last night. We'll be using this place as our command post for the next day or so."
I wavered to my feet, swayed, leaned against the wall. "Yes. Well." I tried to think of something appropriate to say, but nothing came to mind.
So I walked out and found my way to the room, unlatched the door. A tiny corner hearth radiated a friendly heat from a fire. A fire--they used a Fire Stick just for me. Was there a family somewhere doing without? Or did the Hill Folk know--somehow--of the Marquis's cause, and had they tendered their approval by giving his people extras? I shook my head, beyond comprehending anything. Near the fireplace was a campbed, nicely set up, with a bedroll all stretched out and waiting, and a folded cloak for a pillow. Somehow I got my muddy, soggy clothes off and slid the wallet with Debegri's letter under the folded-cloak pillow. Then I climbed into that bed, and I don't remember putting my head down.
( Sherwood Smith )
[ Crown Duel ]
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