Daughter of the Disgraced King (30 page)

The cavalry guards hastened to secure Baron Mikel and his
men. Ailsa cried out as Jathan slid limply form his saddle. Ailsa and Rishiart
both leaped from their saddles and ran to Jathan’s side.

“He must have hit his head,” Rishiart said. “What do we do
now? I don’t think he can ride. And if there really is a sandstorm coming . . .”

Ailsa looked around desperately. She didn’t like the thought
of trying to get Jathan to the next oasis, but he clearly needed the boost of
denser vegetation. “The ravine! Get him into the ravine.”

Rishiart’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

Ailsa huffed impatiently, trying to drag Jathan to his feet.
“Because water flows downhill, when there is any. During the rains, there’d be
a creek at the bottom. There’re always more things growing in a ravine than
anywhere else in the desert except an oasis.”

Rishiart nodded and with the help of one of the cavalry
guards, carefully lifted Jathan and carried him into the ravine. It was like a
different world from the desert. A little way down, the canyon floor was
actually shaded by sycamore trees at least as large as those lining the road.
Other plant life was thicker and lusher here, too.

Ailsa opened Jathan’s cloak to check for other injuries. The
pot his little vine was rooted in had been smashed in the fall. Ailsa unslung
her own pouch and quickly transplanted Jathan’s vine into the same pot as hers.
Then she poured more magic into both of them and put the pot with the doubled
vine into Jathan’s pouch.

Meanwhile, Rishiart had soaked a cloth with some water from
one of their bottles. He dabbed at Jathan’s forehead.

Jathan raised an arm to fend off his brother’s ministrations,
then opened one eye to focus on Ailsa. He opened the other and tried to smile. “That
was . . . really something.”

“How did you do that?” Rishiart asked, continuing to work on
the cut on Jathan’s forehead.

Ailsa shrugged. “There weren’t enough plants to work with.
Any mage can make a whirlwind under the right conditions.” Her voice faltered a
little. “Though, I’ve never made one like
that
before.”

Jathan grabbed her hand. “Not just any mage could have done
that.
That
was the work of a wind mage.”

Ailsa sat back. Was he delirious? “No, it wasn’t. I did it
and I’m definitely a green mage.”

Jathan nodded. “I know that. But you’re
also
a wind
mage. No doubt in my mind.”

Was that even possible? Grandmama had mentioned something
about the new master, hadn’t she? That the new master was both a wind and a
water mage. “But—”

Jathan squeezed her hand, whether because of Rishiart’s
less-than-gentle attentions or for some other reason she couldn’t tell. “It’s
very rare. Even more rare than green mages. But there have been mages with more
than one talent in the past. And, when it happens, it’s almost always among the
most powerful mages—like a level-nine green mage.”

Ailsa shook her head, still trying to take in this
possibility.

Rishiart waved this conversation off. “You two can talk
about that later.
After
we get across the border. How are you feeling,
Jathan?”

“Better now,” Jathan answered. “Skull’s too thick to crack
over a little fall like that.” He waved his hand around. “And this place helps.
I can feel magic rushing back to fill the empty spaces the desert left. I’ll be
ready to ride by the time the sandstorm passes. If there is a storm.”

“Prince Rishiart?” the sergeant in command of the cavalry
guards said. “What do you want us to do with the prisoners?”

Rishiart turned. Baron Mikel and those of his men who’d been
captured had been dumped in a heap with their legs and arms tied. “Put them on
some of the remounts. We’ll take them with us.”

“I am a noble of Far Terra on Far Terran soil,” Baron Mikel
said. “You can’t take me anywhere but back to King Ewart.”

Rishiart’s smile was cold. “Oh, no. You led an attack on an
imperial prince—two imperial princes—not to mention a member of Far Terran
royalty. That’s treason. In addition to that, Father was very clear in his
proclamation that anyone in Far Terra who interfered with a mage would answer
to him. That’s exactly what you’re going to do. This is certainly a case for
the Imperial Court. I imagine you’ll be judged by the emperor himself. Don’t
expect much mercy, though.”

Jathan sat up a little straighter, beginning to recover. He
looked around at the trees. “Are there a lot more of these ravines in Far Terra?”

“Quite a few,” Ailsa answered. “Why?”

“Well, I understand why the Imperial Highway goes by the
straightest, fastest route. But, wouldn’t it be easier to have another road
that took advantage of these ravines? I mean—”

“No.” Ailsa shook her head firmly. “Easier, maybe. But much
less safe.”

“Because of bandits?” Rishiart asked.

Ailsa shrugged. “That, too, I guess. Mostly . . .” She let
out a frustrated sigh, then reached for her water flask. She dribbled a little
water on the ground, where it ran off down to the bottom of the ravine. “Rain
in the desert isn’t like rain in the forest. The water doesn’t soak in until
the ground can’t hold any more. The desert soil is dry and baked hard. The
water starts by running off, downhill. If there’s enough rain, enough water,
you get a flash flood. A ravine like this is the last place you want to be when
that happens. That’s why the main road sticks to the high ground and crosses
these canyons on bridges.”

“Oh,” Jathan looked around at the trees again, but his smile
had turned to a scowl. “A place like this would draw a green mage. That could
be exactly what happened to my father.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if this was the very ravine in
which your father drowned.” Baron Mikel bared his teeth. “I remember when the
mages left. Some of us “helped” them to find places of shelter like this. About
this same time of year, it was.”

Rishiart’s eyes flew wide.

Ailsa pushed Jathan back as he tried to push himself
upright. “It couldn’t have been during the winds. There are no rains—and
therefore no flash floods—while the sandstorm winds blow.”

“You knowingly lured mages to their deaths?” Rishiart asked
in disbelief.

Baron Mikel tossed his head—about the only gesture available
to him with his hands and feet tied so tightly. “Not me
personally
. But
I knew those who did. Some of them worked for me. We know how to treat mages
who try to shirk their duty. They’ll take care of you, too.”

Rishiart shook his head. “I’ll be sure to report that to
Father, too. I wouldn’t expect it to help your case.”

Ailsa pulled Jathan to a stop outside the door to the
emperor’s office, while Rishiart went on ahead, shoving Baron Mikel ahead of
him. They’d pushed themselves on their way back to Terranion, stopping only to
leave Baron Mikel’s men imprisoned in the first town they came to and snatch a
few hours of sleep. They hadn’t even paused to change from the clothing they’d
traveled in.

It wasn’t Baron Mikel or the events in Far Terra that stopped
her now, though. It was Jathan’s plan to ask the emperor for permission for
their marriage.

She leaned close to whisper. “Are you sure about this,
Jathan?”

He didn’t seem to have any trouble interpreting her
question. “Absolutely. Aren’t you? You won’t be getting a prince you know. Not
really.”

Ailsa squeezed his hand. “That’s good, because you’ll be
getting a working mage, not a princess.”

Jathan winked. “Suits me.” He placed her hand formally on
his arm and led her into the emperor’s office.

The emperor looked them over, taking in their dusty,
travel-worn clothes and their bound prisoner. “What’s this all about?”

Rishiart stepped forward and gave his father a summary of
everything that had happened on their trip to Far Terra, paying particular
attention to the attack on the Imperial Highway.

The emperor’s eyes hardened and his frown deepened as
Rishiart went on. At the end, he turned to Baron Mikel. “Do you deny any of
this?”

The baron shrugged as much as it was possible to do so with
his hands tied behind his back. “Why bother? Of course I acted to keep an
important and valuable resource within Far Terra. It was the only sane thing to
do.”

The emperor sat back and stared at Baron Mikel until he
squirmed and lowered his eyes. “Mages are not ‘resources’ that are yours to
control. My son and Princess Ailsa certainly are not.” His eyes narrowed. “Did
King Ewart know of your plan?”

Baron Mikel stood up as straight as his bonds would allow. “King
Ewart knows the proper place of mages in society. He said as much when he
decreed that Ailsa should not be permitted to leave Far Terra. I consider that
my mandate. But, no, the king did not know exactly what I intended to do. I’m
sure, if I had consulted him, he’d have lent me more men and I would not be
standing in front of you now.”

The emperor nodded gravely. “Very well, by your own
admission you have committed treason and you will be sentenced accordingly. You
are forthwith stripped of your titles and lands and you will be taken directly
from here to be imprisoned in the southern Ring Mountains where you can be a
resource
to help mine gold and silver for the imperial mint.”

Mikel’s head came up. “You can’t do that!”

The emperor smiled dryly. “On the contrary. I think you’ll
find that I can.” He smiled. “It’ll set a useful precedent. A warning, if you
like, to the other barons of what will happen to them if they try to follow
your example.” The emperor gestured for his guard to take the former-baron
away. He turned to the others. “Well, you three have had a more difficult and
adventurous journey than I had expected. But you came through it safely, thank
the gods. It looks to me like you can all use a chance to clean up and get some
rest. You most of all, Rishiart. Unfortunately, I’m going to have to send you
right back to Far Terra. Your diplomatic skills are clearly desperately needed
there. I’ll send another full troop of cavalry along with you to bolster Arrigo’s
forces.”

Rishiart bowed his head in acknowledgement, but he made no
move to leave. “Thank you, Father. I expected to be going back directly. The
extra forces will be welcome, I think.”

“Go on, then. I’ll see all of you later,” the emperor said.

Jathan grabbed Ailsa’s hand. “Just one more thing, Father.”

“Yes?”

“Ailsa and I request your approval and consent. We want to
get married. To each other.”

The emperor smiled. “Well, now. And is this what you want,
too, Ailsa?”

Ailsa squeezed Jathan’s hand and smiled. “Oh, yes.”

“Then you have my most hearty approval. I’m delighted. Welcome
to the family.” His eyes took on a briefly speculative look. “Rishiart, where
exactly are former-baron Mikel’s estates?”

“Off the Imperial Highway between here and Far Terra.”

The emperor smiled and steepled his fingers. “What a happy
chance. I think . . . yes, I think that those lands and titles will be your
wedding gift, Jathan. That will provide you with a secure base of operations in
Far Terra and a convenient stop-over between the Far Terran capital and the Ring
Mountains. Yes . . . and another place where you two can exercise your powers
to provide a living example to the other barons of just what benefits they
might
receive by choosing to cooperate with us rather than King Ewart.” He chuckled. “Yes.
I like the justice of that very much. Rishiart, on your way back to Far Terra,
make a point to stop by these lands so you can write a full report of their
condition and install some trustworthy manager until Jathan and Ailsa can take
possession. I’ll trust your judgment on that.”

Ailsa clapped her hands and turned to Jathan. “Oh! Then you
won’t have to cross the desert in a single day. And we can grow a garden that
will help you recover more quickly. And stay longer than a day, if you need to.”
She frowned slightly. “Only . . . there won’t be a coach road. That may make it
harder for you.”

Jathan recaptured her hand. “Not a problem. We’ll take a
coach as far as the nearest stage or courier station and then ride the rest of
the way. It’ll still be easier than trying to ride all the way.”

“And I can have someone survey for an extension of the coach
road while I’m in Far Terra.” Rishiart frowned. “According to what Princess
Izbel had to say, you might have to get a water mage out there before you can
grow much of a garden, though.”

“I don’t think that will be a problem. Not when they’ll be
working for two fellow mages.” The emperor paused, stroking his chin. “In fact
. . . Princess Izbel and her husband might be the perfect interim managers, if
they’re willing.”

Ailsa had to keep herself from bouncing in her seat. “Oh.
That would be perfect!”

The emperor’s smile grew wider. “I’m glad you like it.”

~

Ailsa and Jathan left the emperor’s office, still holding
hands. She had a strong suspicion that Jathan was only waiting until they got
around the next bend in the path, out of sight of his father’s office, before
stopping for a kiss. Good idea. She stepped out a little faster to get to that
bend.

They both stopped as soon as they’d turned the corner, but
not to kiss. Sav stood on the path up ahead. From the way he paced across the
narrow path, only stopping when he saw them, it was clear he was waiting for
them. Ailsa could read the tension in every line of his body. She swallowed.
They couldn’t, after all, hope to put this off indefinitely. Might as well deal
with it now. “Jathan, let me break the news to him, all right?”

Jathan squeezed her hand before releasing it. “All right. I’ll
be right here.”

Ailsa strode forward alone. “Sav, I’m glad to see you. There’s
something I want to tell you before you hear it from someone else.”

“Ailsa . . . I need to talk to you,” Sav said at the same instant.

Ailsa drew in her breath. “Sav—”

He took a step closer. “Let me go first, please. I’ve been
practicing how to say this and I need to just say it. Ailsa, when I asked you
to marry me, I meant it—then. But now I know that I asked you for the wrong reasons.
I do love you, Ailsa. Just . . . just not that way. And I need you to . . . to
release me from my promise.”

Ailsa suppressed a smile. She really shouldn’t laugh with
relief. It would be the wrong reaction here, even if it was what she really
wanted to do. “I thought I already had, Sav. Of course you’re free.”

Sav let out his breath explosively. “Thank you. You see . .
. while you’ve been gone, I’ve . . . I’ve found someone else. Princess Mayra.”

Ailsa sprang forward and hugged Sav. She kissed his cheek
before releasing him. “Good for you.”

Sav grinned back, shoulders relaxing. “What was it you
wanted to tell me?”

Ailsa waved Jathan forward and took his hand. “What I wanted
to tell you was that Jathan and I are to be married.”

Sav held out his hand to shake Jathan’s, still smiling. “Congratulations.”

Jathan let go of Ailsa’s hand to shake Sav’s. “What’s this
all about?”

Ailsa giggled. “It looks like there are going to be
two
imperial weddings.”

Sav flushed and scuffed one foot on the path. “I . . . I
haven’t asked her yet. I wanted to—”

Ailsa gave him a push. “Well, then. What are you waiting
for? Go.”

Sav grinned again and hurried off toward the palace.

Jathan watched him go. “Do you think Mayra will—?”

“I don’t think. I know. She’s been trying to get Sav’s attention
for weeks now. With my blessing. Looks like she finally succeeded while we were
gone.”

Jathan looked after Sav for a moment longer then he turned
and recaptured Ailsa’s hand. “Well, if Mayra asks nicely, we might have a
double wedding, but we’re definitely having separate honeymoons.”

~

Jathan kept hold of Ailsa’s hand as they continued down the
path, unwilling to let her go just yet. “I’ll walk you home.” He chuckled and
winked at her. “I wouldn’t miss telling your grandmother the news for anything.
About us
and
about your new abilities.” His fingers traced the front hem
of her jacket. “You’ll need new robes, now. Green trimmed with pale blue.”

His thoughts spun forward. Soon, very soon now, they’d be
married and then . . . He looked sideways at Ailsa. “I’ll make you a deal.”

Ailsa squinted back at him. “About what?”

“Our honeymoon. If you’ll spend a week with me up at the
lodge, I’ll spend a week with you at our new estates in Far Terra.” He laughed
at her expression. “Come on. I can see that you’re dying to get out there and
see what’s what. Deal?”

Ailsa shivered. “But it’ll be so cold.”

This was not something Jathan was worried about. He winked
at her again and waggled his eyebrows. “Not inside, it won’t. Trust me.”

Ailsa laughed. “All right, deal. If you’re sure . . .”

“About what? The lodge? Or returning to Far Terra? Either
way, the answer’s yes.” He leaned forward to kiss her. The brief kiss was not
enough. He stepped closer and drew Ailsa into his arms. She tilted up her head
and he kissed her, heedless of the bushes bursting into out-of-season winter
bloom around them. A warm breeze wafted the scent around them.

THE END

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