Lhind the Thief (41 page)

As long as she could remember Sidal had been tall and
competent and a little remote, busy with her magic studies. At an early age she
had showed magical talent, and had trained hard in order to take Mama’s place
when it became necessary. Rhis had also shown magical talent, but she’d never
had her sister’s interest in the hard work of becoming a mage.

“Sidal,” Rhis asked doubtfully. “Do you think I’m silly to
wish for romance?”

The silvery light of the glowglobe glinted in her coronet of
soft brown hair. Sidal was not pretty. No one in the family was considered
pretty. They all had long faces and strongly marked bones, but right then,
while she was looking out at the rain-washed window, Rhis thought privately
that Sidal was beautiful. “I think,” the princess-mage said slowly, “that it
depends on what you mean by romance.”

“Oh, like the ballads. Overcoming great odds to find your
true love, or doing great deeds to save him. ‘Adventure is tragedy triumphed!’
Or he does great deeds to win you. Something dashing and heroic,” Rhis
explained. “For love.”

“Not great deeds.” Sidal gave a tiny shake of her head. “Too
many great deeds translate out to be great pain for those who lost.”

“Except it’s always villains who lose,” Rhis said quickly.
“They deserve to lose. When the heroes lose, then it’s a tragedy, and I
hate
tragedies.”

“The villains would think their losses tragedy,” Sidal said
with a rueful smile. “Of course there are truly evil people in the world. The
emperor of Sveran Djur is reputed to be one, and I believe it, for he has done
terrible things with his magic. But there are so many others who set out with
the best intentions, or what they believe to be the best intentions, and find
themselves on the opposing side of others who also have the best intentions. The
people on each side, in their own ballads, appear as heroes, and the other side
as villains.”

“I know. And Elda’s told me many times how rulers agree that
no one can rule a kingdom and be a mage. That Mama had to sign a certain type
of treaty, and cannot rule after Papa dies. All just because of that emperor.”
Rhis sighed. “That doesn’t sound romantic. It sounds nasty.”

“Wars and fighting and using magic for coercion are always
nasty.”

“Well, I don’t want that. Since I have to marry anyway, I
just want, oh, to fall in love, or have a wonderful prince fall in love with
me. And no
terrible
fighting,” she
added hastily. “Just something exciting! Like in a ballad. Maybe a duel or two,
or some chases, but nobody gets hurt.”

Sidal laughed, a soft and sympathetic sound. “Sounds like
you want a stage play sort of life! And there’s nothing wrong with that, as
long as you remember what I’m sure Mama told you as many times as she told me
when I first went away to magic school—”

“I know.” Rhis recited:

“Fall in love
with heart, not head,
to trouble you’re led.
Fall in love
with heart and mind,
then true love you’ll find.”

She couldn’t help but feel a little impatient, for she’d
already endured last-lectures from Elda all during supper, and even afterward.

Sidal got to her feet. “Then I’m sure you’ll have a
wonderful time, and that’s what I want most for you. But . . .”
She twisted a fine opal ring off her finger, and slid it onto one of Rhis’s.
“Just in case. No one need ever know. If you do find yourself in trouble, and
need me, then touch this stone and say my name three times.”

Rhis glanced down at the ring, and closed her other hand
over it. “Thank you, Sidal,” she said. “Do you foresee trouble?”

The tall princess-mage bent down and kissed Rhis on the
forehead. “No one ever foresees trouble, unless she is looking for it,” she
said. “So if you don’t use the ring-magic, I will know that you are having a
wonderful visit and that you don’t need it. It would be terrible if trouble
found you, and you had no one to help you. Never mind. Just wear it and think
of me when you are dancing.” She caressed Rhis’s cheek, then left.

Rhis clapped off her glowglobe and snuggled under her
quilts, thinking about the ring, and about Sidal. Did her serious sister have a
romantic side after all?

Feeling very confused, Rhis let her thoughts drift into her
own dreams, and then into sleep.

She woke up to streaming sunshine and a promising new day.
Remembering her trip, she raced out of bed and into her dressing room where
Keris, the new maid, had her new traveling gown all laid out and ready for her.
The rest of the room looked empty, with all her trunks packed and gone
downstairs to the stable.

After a hasty breakfast, she danced into the audience room
to kiss her father good-bye, for he was already at work. The rest of the family
accompanied her to the courtyard to see her off. She embraced them all, winning
a smile from her mother when she gave Elda a spontaneous hug. “Thank you for
bearing with me, Elda,” she said happily. “I’ll do my best to make you proud.”

Elda’s cheeks flushed red, but she smiled a little.
“Dignity, Rhis. Remember, a
worthy
prince looks for dignity and dedication to duty above all in his future queen.”

That sounds just like
my boring brother
, Rhis thought, but all she said was, “I’ll remember!”

Then Rhis climbed into the coach, waved from the window, and
they were off.

Rhis watched her home until the road down the mountain took
them around a great slope and the mighty stone castle slid from sight. It was
not a handsome castle, Rhis thought, watching the last tower disappear from
view. In fact, most would probably consider it gloomy, for it had been built to
withstand weather and marauders. Elda, who had grown up in the more peaceable
Gensam, had once said, “A palace is quite different, child. Built not just for
beauty but for comfort.”

Rhis grimaced, for the first time thinking about what those
words meant. She’d grown up with all those narrow stairways and stone rooms and
cold slate floors, so she was used to them. Would a visitor think them
barbaric? Maybe it was better that no prince had shown up to court her!

Anyway,
now
she’d
see a real palace. Impatience gnawed at her when she realized just how long a
trip lay ahead of her. Though Nym was small on the map, it would take several
days to wind down through the treacherous mountains. If the weather held. If
the weather turned truly severe, as it sometimes did, she could be held up a
week or more.

She wished that she could travel about by magic, as Sidal
and her mother did. But people other than mages seldom traveled by magic,
because apparently it was dangerous, and sometimes had nasty effects. And you
could only go one at a time, to specially designated destinations—either a
place, or, more rarely, a person.

Rhis looked down at her ring. Would it be dangerous for
Sidal to transfer directly to Rhis, wherever she might be? Rhis considered her
sister, who had professed not to like dangerous circumstances—but who was
obviously ready to face them if necessary.

People are surprising
,
she thought, settling back in the cold coach, and pulling a soft woolen quilt
up around her chin.
Even the ones you
think you know
.

o0o

A long series of days followed, each much alike, as the
coach made its way steadily northward. The journey out of Nym did not take
weeks, for the weather stayed relatively mild. They descended steadily through
the fir-dotted heights, down into pine forest, then at last reached the Common
Road along the coast of Arpalon. They sped along smoothly paved roads through the
rolling hills, under a variety of trees Rhis had only seen drawings and
paintings of.

The inns they stayed at were comfortable, but after the
first exciting night of sleeping away from home, she found that the inns
blended into a series of big wooden buildings with nice beds and fine meals,
supervised by the quiet, efficient staff that Elda had sent to protect Rhis.
These servants also kept her from talking to anybody on the road, nor did they
tell anyone who she was. The days when Nym’s royalty were routinely kidnapped
for fabulous ransoms if they left the protection of the mountains were not all
that
long in the past.

Rhis knew these things, but she still found traveling to be
very dull. She caught glimpses of people who looked interesting, from far-away
places, as she was conducted straight to her room at night—and then to her
carriage in the morning, after her lonely breakfast.

She had begun the journey resenting the fact that Elda had
arranged for her to meet her younger sister, Princess Shera of Gensam, at the
border. By the time Rhis had made her way north without speaking to a single
person except the quiet Keris, she was looking forward to Shera, in spite of
how boring her letters had been.

Shera was a year older than Rhis. When Rhis turned six, not
long after Elda married Gavan, Elda had insisted that it would be seemly for
the two princesses to start a correspondence. She had supervised each of Rhis’s
letters, saying, “It’s as well you learn early how royalty carry on a
correspondence, for you never know when you might need it.”

So Rhis had had to write, in her very best handwriting,
formally phrased letters describing her studies—and not much else. Just once
she’d said something about her favorite ballads, but Elda had been horrified.
“You have to remember that to the rest of the world, Nym is a country full of
wild people. No one in those old songs was the least bit civilized.” So Rhis
had had to recopy the letter, leaving out her favorite subject.

The letters she received back were neatly written, and very,
very uninteresting. Elda had obviously told the truth: civilized princesses
really did just brag about their studies, and proper interests, like growing
flowers. Rhis was always glad when winter came, preventing messengers from
getting through too often, which slowed down the tedious exchange.

When at last her cavalcade neared the border of Arpalon and
Gensam, Rhis was so looking forward to seeing Shera she felt she could talk
about roses and starflowers all day, if only she could
talk
.

They were to meet at the ancient Royal Inn on the border,
where many treaties and royal marriages had been negotiated in the turbulent
past.

The word ‘inn’ was misleading, Rhis decided when she saw the
huge building with its numerous windows and fine columned archways. A great
many well-dressed people strolled about, and for the first time she was glad of
her entourage when they rolled up the carriageway to the splendid courtyard.
Nothing in Nym was this fine! People stared so when she emerged from her
carriage, but no one smiled.

She walked inside quickly, glad to follow Mistress Ranla,
her father’s courier, who was the leader of the entourage. A brief glimpse of a
spacious area full of fine furnishings and handsomely dressed folk strolling
about was all she got before she was conducted up a grand, sweeping stairway to
another story, and then to a suite of huge rooms where nothing was made of
stone. The walls were smooth wood painted a warm cream color.

She sank down onto the nearest chair, as servants and
retainers curtseyed and moved about arranging things. A few moments later a
girl her own age approached with a cautious, uncertain step. She was much
shorter than Rhis. She had a round figure, a moon-shaped face, and the
honey-brown skin common to their end of the continent, with a rosebud of a
mouth. Her hair was a rich chestnut brown, glinting with red highlights, and it
had natural wave that made long bouncy curls that Rhis envied at once. Her
gown, light green trimmed with pearls and dark green ribbons, was at least as
fine as the finest of the gowns in Rhis’s trunks, and it made her brown eyes
look greenish, contrasting delightfully with her reddish hair.

She gave a correct nod as Rhis rose to her feet. “Princess
Rhis?” Her voice was high, with a slight lisp.

“Princess Shera?” Rhis said, giving the same nod.

“My parents bid me welcome you to Gensam,” Shera said in a
carefully modulated voice. “I trust our journey together will be pleasant.”

Rhis knew what to say to that. “Thank you. In my turn, I am
to convey greetings and thanks from my parents to yours, and from your honored
sister, Princess Elda, as well.”

The conversation proceeded like that for a short time, each
girl admirably formal and dignified and very, very proper. Rhis was glad of her
lessons with Elda. At least she wasn’t making a fool of herself. But by the
time a quiet servant had brought in hot chocolate and biscuits, Rhis was
feeling the strain of so much dignified, formal conversation. At the thought of
two more weeks of it, she found herself wishing that she would be alone after
all.

When next Shera spoke, it was to praise the inn’s garden.
Rhis half-listened to the slow, lisping voice enumerate the fine early blooms
and important plants that she had found in her five days’ stay while waiting
for Rhis’s arrival. Since very few flowers grew in cold, high Nym, Rhis didn’t
recognize half the names she heard, and she couldn’t help her mind wandering.

She was choosing her fourth biscuit—she wasn’t hungry, but
at least it gave her something to do with her hands—when she happened to look
up, just as Shera started to yawn.

The princess closed her jaw at once, her eyes watering
slightly.

“If you are tired, Princess Shera, it will not discommode me
if you wish to retire to rest,” Rhis said politely, hoping to get rid of her
for a time.

Shera’s polite expression was betrayed by a blush. “I’m not
tired—” she said quickly, then she turned even redder.

Rhis stared. Was it possible that Shera was as bored as she
was? How to find out, without making some terrible mistake in etiquette that
would disgrace her family—her entire kingdom?