Eleanor (72 page)

Read Eleanor Online

Authors: S.F. Burgess

Tags: #Magic, #Fantasy, #Swords

BOOK: Eleanor
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Freddie laughed.
That’s how some women are meant to walk, but if you or Amelia started walking around like that we’d never get anything done!

Why not?
Eleanor asked, slightly nonplussed.

Because it would be far too distracting. It’s bad enough when you wear those tight short-sleeved shirts Callie gave you!

What’s wrong with my shirts?
 

Eleanor, they show every curve of your perfect little body, just like a second skin, and it’s very hard to concentrate on anything other than you when you’re wearing one.

Is that ALL men think about?
Eleanor asked irritably.

Freddie laughed again.
Pretty much, but we’d think about it a lot less if women stopped putting temptation in front of us.

My mother was right!
Eleanor muttered darkly.

Freddie’s laughter was still ringing in her head as Laurice reached her chair and sat down. She crossed her legs gracefully and stared down at them. There were small laughter lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth that gave her the appearance of age, but she certainly did not look old enough to be Urerla’s mother. She also had the raised dots of ritual scaring under her eyes; hers too were more elaborate than the ones Eleanor had seen in the general population.
Maybe it’s so the royal family can be identified? Does that mean Yatt was a member of the royal family?
Laurice’s black eyes showed the same intelligence as Urerla’s, but they also held something else – a knowing, the impression of life experience; this was not a woman who would be easily fooled.

“Which one of you is Conlan Baydon?” she asked in a voice that sounded like a chiming bell, her eyes scanning across their faces.
 

“I am,” Conlan said, stepping forward as far as their circle of guards would allow.

“I have heard some strange things about you and your Avatars. I am interested in hearing the truth,” Laurice said, the underlying Dwarfish stating he had better tell the truth, or she was going to make him suffer.

“As I am interested in speaking it,” Conlan assured her.

“Is it true that one of your Avatars destroyed my favourite tree in my private garden?” she asked mildly. Conlan’s eyes immediately flicked to Eleanor.
 

Shrugging sheepishly, she nodded.
 

“Apparently it is,” he said, giving Eleanor a disgusted look before turning back to Laurice as she spoke again.
 

“Is it true that this same Avatar was rude to Nials, my most trusted horseman, when she first met him?”
 

“Yes, she was rude, but in fairness she was trying to protect her friend by getting Nials to remove a knife from his throat,” Conlan answered. Laurice raised an eyebrow at Conlan’s defence of Eleanor’s actions, but she did not comment; instead, she moved on to her next accusation.
 

“And is it true that this same Avatar also insulted Harnlyn, the captain of my house guard?” Laurice asked, her tone still deceptively mild.

“Yes, this is true, although the Avatar has apologised to Harnlyn and will be apologising for the loss of your tree,” Conlan said. His voice was calm and steady, but Eleanor could see his fists clenched tightly at his sides. He was furious.

“You do not seem to have much control over your creations,” Laurice observed. Conlan did not respond, just held Laurice’s look until she spoke again. “It would seem your Avatar requires a lesson in respect,” she said, standing. “Nials, bring Conlan Baydon and the wayward Avatar to my chambers and we will deal with this now. Lock the others back up.”

Eleanor glanced at Conlan, she could feel his apprehension. Nials came from the back of the room, a stern look on his face, the circle of guards parted and he took Eleanor’s arm, pulling her forward. Conlan followed.

What’s going on?
Freddie asked.

I think I’m in trouble. The tree I exploded was Laurice’s favourite; she’s going to punish me
, Eleanor said. Even in her head, her voice sounded frightened and small.

Conlan won’t let them hurt you
, Freddie assured her.

Right now I think he’d be cheering them on. I think he’s rather angry with me.

What should I do?
Freddie asked. Eleanor felt his concern again.

I don’t think there is anything you can do right now, but would you please leave my head? If they’re going to do something unpleasant, I’d rather you didn’t have to suffer it with me.

Are you sure? I don’t mind, and maybe I could help.

Eleanor shuddered at the thought of losing control and screaming or crying with Freddie in her head. It would be a horrid thing to do to him.

No, really, I’ll be better off on my own.

OK, but only if you’re sure,
Freddie replied, sounding hurt.
 

With her attention on what Freddie had been saying, Eleanor had not noticed the twists and turns they were taking, and she was surprised when Nials opened a large ornate wooden door onto what looked like someone’s office. In front of them, across the room, stood a massive wooden desk, paper, books and writing instruments scattered messily across it, the chair behind it facing a large open window that looked out over the garden Eleanor had been in earlier. She could see people cleaning up the mess she had made of the tree. In the middle of the room, within the boarder of a rich, colourful rug, were two overstuffed sofas that looked as if they were rarely used. They faced each other, a low table in between. Along the back wall of the room were bookcases, filled to overflowing with books, papers and charts. There did not seem to be any order to it. In the corner of the room was an ‘A’ frame of polished wood, on which sat the most beautiful saddle Eleanor had ever seen. It was made of a snake-like leather, it had an almost metallic green colour to it and the stirrups and edges were adorned with small red gems that sparkled even in the fading evening light. Hanging on the wall, next to the saddle, was a painting so large that the bottom of the frame was inches from the floor, while the top actually touched the ceiling. The painting was the remarkably life-like image of a horse – a beautiful horse – its pure black coat shining over its defined, strong, muscled body, elegant grace with an air of noble, equine intelligence. It stood to attention, one front hoof lifted as if he was ready to spring out of the painting. Impressed, Eleanor walked towards the image and studied it slowly so that she would always remember it.

“That is Meran, my husband’s horse,” Laurice said. Eleanor jumped at her voice and turned to see the woman enter the room and close the door behind her.
 

“I am sorry I destroyed your favourite tree and insulted your people,” Eleanor said quickly before Laurice could speak and say something irreversible like ‘chop off her head!’ “I speak and act without thinking,” Eleanor continued. “But I really do not want that to reflect badly on Conlan, as it is not his fault I have no self-discipline.” Expecting violence or at the very least someone to yell at her, Eleanor was surprised when Laurice laughed, a wonderful, full, rich sound of pure amusement.
 

“Child, do I look like someone who cares very much about trees or the fragile pride of men?” she asked, smiling at her. Confused, Eleanor looked the woman up and down and immediately noted the strength and confidence in her face and body and the intelligence in her eyes.
 

“No, you do not strike me as someone who cares about those things, so why are we here?” she asked bluntly.

“Eleanor, that was rude,” Conlan chastised quietly, looking just as confused as she was.
 

Laurice gave him a scornful look. “Do not stifle her spirit; you will have need of it if you truly wish to be king. She has a disconcerting ability to see to the heart of people, which is a useful thing to know if you wish to rule. She certainly recognised Harnlyn for the fool he is,” she said, turning to Nials. “Untie them, please, I do not believe them to be a threat. And can we have some light in here?”
 

Nials nodded and took a knife from his belt. Stepping behind Conlan he cut through his restraints, doing the same for Eleanor. She gasped at the sharp pain that ran through her shoulders as her arms moved from her previously locked position. Moving away from them, he began lighting the lanterns that were placed around the room.

Laurice scrutinised Eleanor for a long time before she spoke.
 

“To answer your question, child, you are here because I wish to thank you for helping my daughter see sense – you have made her very happy – and also to find out what you can tell me about Yatt, Millice and a bird called Osser. Nials was out looking for them when he stumbled across your group. He heard you mention Osser to your friend while you were looking at Putt. I would appreciate the truth,” Laurice said in the same mild tone.

Eleanor looked questioningly at Conlan.
 

“Tell her,” he said quietly. Eleanor nodded, turning back to Laurice.
 

“It is a rather long story,” she said.
 

Laurice’s eyes flashed with hope. “You have seen them then?”
 

Eleanor nodded. “Yes, I saw them but they are dead. I am sorry,” she said, layering the Dwarfish with her grief and sympathy. Eleanor watched the hope in the woman’s eyes die and be replaced by a deep pain. Laurice moved to one of the sofas and dropped gracelessly down to it. Feeling bad for her, Eleanor moved to crouch at her side so she could look into Laurice’s blank face. Her black eyes burned with grief.

“I am sorry, they meant a lot to you?” she asked.

Laurice looked at her, agony in her eyes.
 

“Yatt was my son,” she whispered. Seeing her distress and wanting to help, Eleanor reacted without thinking. Standing, she put her arms around the woman and hugged her close. Laurice stiffened, and realising her mistake, Eleanor released her.

“Sorry,” she said.
 

Laurice quirked her a small smile. “There is no need for apologies. Come, sit. You had better tell me what happened.”

Eleanor told Laurice the whole story, placing heavy emphasis on how Yatt had given them the antidote to the darts and had tried to help them, despite the situation. While Eleanor knew some of the story was new to Conlan, his expression remained a passive blank canvas throughout.

“He was irresponsible and reckless, but he had a good heart,” Laurice said sadly. “This third man, could your friend Merl identify him, if he saw him?” she asked Conlan. Eleanor saw the threat in the woman’s eyes.

“Perhaps, but you would have to ask him. Merl acted in our defence. Whatever your son’s reasons, he attacked us,” Conlan replied.
 

“I do not place blame on Merl,” Laurice said softly, holding Conlan’s gaze for several moments before looking over at Nials who was stood silently by the door. Eleanor could not read the look that passed between them, but Nials stuck his head out of the door, as if he was checking what was in the corridor. He then walked to the window and stared into the twilight gloom before shutting it tight and closing the heavy curtains across it. He turned back to Laurice and nodded. The woman looked at them for a moment, as if trying to make a decision.
 

“The news you bring me puts me in a difficult position. To help you understand, I feel I must explain, which means I must impart some very sensitive information. Can I trust you?” she asked. Conlan and Eleanor nodded in unison.
 

“Very well,” Laurice said. “I am bringing you into a secret known only to Urerla, Nials and myself. Someone is trying to take my position from me. My husband died three moons ago. It appeared at the time to be an accident, but seeing as the only witness was his horse, we are unlikely to ever know the truth. There have been subtle attacks on my position since then, designed to undermine the respect my people have for me. Rumours and discontent at my decisions have abounded, and they never seem to come from the same person. It is proving to be impossible to track down the original source. Yatt took his father’s death very hard. He never believed it was an accident, so he began investigating on his own. His suspicions fell on Harnlyn, and I am beginning to think he was right.”

Eleanor nodded. “I think Harnlyn is working with or for a Lord of Mydren called Daratus, but I do not think he is your main traitor.”

Conlan and Laurice looked at her questioningly. Eleanor smiled. “Harnlyn is a moron. Do you really feel he is capable of making your husband’s death look like an accident or stirring up your people against you without being caught? I think Harnlyn is a decoy, perhaps even an unwitting one; someone with a far superior intellect is playing this game.”

“What do you suggest?” Conlan asked. Eleanor closed her eyes and thought about it. They needed to flush out the real traitor, needed something important enough that he or she would handle it themselves.
 

“What is she doing?” she heard Laurice whisper to Conlan.

“Thinking,” he replied, and Eleanor heard the hint of pride in his voice.

She smiled as several possibilities came to her.
 

“I need to ask some questions,” she said, opening her eyes again. Laurice nodded.
 

“You brought Conlan and I here under the pretence of punishing me, so how were you planning on explaining that you did not, in fact, carry out the punishment?” Eleanor asked. There was silence. Eleanor looked from Laurice’s pained expression to Nials’ guilty look.

“Oh, you
are
going to carry out the punishment?” she whispered, frightened.
That changes things
, Eleanor thought as her mind began amending her plans, despite her fear.

“It would raise too much suspicion not to,” Nials said, a strong current of apology running through the Dwarfish.

“What punishment were you planning on giving?” Conlan asked in a hard, cold voice. Nials hung his head, not able to look Conlan in the eye as he answered.
 

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