Moons' Dreaming (Children of the Rock) (78 page)

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Authors: Marguerite Krause,Susan Sizemore

BOOK: Moons' Dreaming (Children of the Rock)
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The corporal waited in the corridor while Damon and his guard entered their quarters. The servants laid and lit fires in the sitting room and bed chambers, then continued to bustle about for several minutes. Damon threw his cloak over the back of a chair and ignored them. As long as lamps were lit when he needed them, food placed on the table when he was hungry, and his chamber pot emptied whenever he used it, he cared nothing for the details of how the tasks were accomplished. He was a Shaper, heir to the throne of Rhenlan, with far more important concerns to occupy his mind.

Dinner arrived, platters and bowls and baskets and jugs, in the arms of three more servants. Palle hurried through the door in their wake.

Dear cousin! It is a pleasure to see you again!


And you, cousin.

In truth, Damon saw little to please him, and less to respect, in the self-proclaimed King of Dherrica. Palle wore his thin, brown hair long and tied back from his face, in the fashion of a guard, but the conceit ended there. The rounded torso, the hint of a double chin, and the shortness of breath with which he greeted Damon suggested that he devoted most of his time to enjoying the privileges of his position, and none to such tedious matters as swordsmanship, or any other physical exercise.

Damon had no illusions about his own skill with a blade, and no interest in improving it, either. Warrior kings like Hion, or the over-active Sene of Sitrine, were relics of the past. A king did not have to take up a sword with his own hands. That

s what guards were for. Damon knew the strengths and limitations of those who served him as intimately as his mother knew the traits of each horse she so carefully raised and trained. Captain Dael was his sword, keen-edged, strong, designed for public displays of heroism and the committing of mighty deeds. Palim was his dagger, just as deadly, and suited to the quick, silent thrust. Like any weapon, they demanded strength in the hand that wielded them. For that reason, he would never allow himself to sink into the self-indulgent softness that had trapped Palle.

Palle prattled on about inconsequentials

the weather, last autumn

s harvest

while the servants set the table and finished making the room comfortable. As far as the servants, and everyone else in Bronle, were concerned, Damon was the younger son of a minor Shaper family with holdings somewhere near the Rhenlan border. In Rhenlan, the only person who knew of his secret visits to the king of Dherrica was the invaluable Palim. Dael would have been worried for his safety. After all, the princess of Dherrica had died during her visit to the court of Rhenlan. Hion would not be concerned for his safety, because it was clear that Palle offered no threat. The man couldn

t even capture his own nephew, despite numerous opportunities provided by Pirse

s regular appearances throughout the kingdom. Hion would have objected only because he would want to be in charge of their dealings with Dherrica, and Damon had no intention of permitting that. Palle belonged to him, not to his father.

Damon

s guard stepped into the corridor after the last of the servants and closed the door behind him, leaving Damon alone with Palle. The king said,

I understand the need for discretion, my lad, but don

t you think you

re taking it a bit too far?

He cast a disdainful glance around the sitting room.

Especially at this time of year. It takes hours to get the chill out of these rooms.


You are too considerate, Your Majesty.

Damon seated himself at the table and took a sip of wine. He had no intention of ever giving Palle advance warning of his arrival. Even now, his guards, both Rhenlaners who had grown up close enough to the border that they could pass as Dherricans, were taking advantage of their surprise arrival to gather all the latest news and gossip from the stables and guard barracks. If Palle had time to prepare for his visits, who knew what he might do? At the least, he might give away the fact that his young visitor was someone more important than a lowly cousin. At the worst, with time to plan he might get some inconvenient ideas, and that Damon could not allow.


How fares your father, and the beautiful Queen Gallia? They are well, I trust?


Never better,

Damon replied. He had spent a tedious afternoon with his mother at her beloved Horse Fair. Long enough to flatter her with praise of her herds, and confirm her continued disinterest in the business of running the kingdom. As for Hion, although he hid it well, his weakness grew with each passing season. The fact of Hion

s illness, however, was a secret that Damon had shared with no one, not even Palim. He most certainly would not mention it to Palle.


And what of your family, Your Majesty? What news of the prince?

A grimace crossed Palle

s face.

Really, Prince Damon, I do not think it proper that you share your respected title with my lawless nephew. Pirse gave up all status and position with his cowardly attack on my dear sister Dea.


If there is any truth in the tales that reach Rhenlan, many Dherricans consider Pirse more hero than coward.


The misplaced gratitude of ignorant sheep herders. Those mountain villages are so isolated, the people are impressed by any idiot who can lift a sword without chopping off his own hand.


Too isolated to be reached by normal guard patrols, I gather.


The royal guard protects every town and village in my kingdom, no matter how small or how distant from Bronle!


I never meant to imply otherwise. And of course they can

t protect the villagers from Pirse, because the villagers refuse to recognize him as a danger.


Exactly! On top of that, it

s too easy for one man to elude a troop of guards, especially in the winter. When he comes north in the spring, away from the aid of his village dupes, we

ll have a better chance to catch up with him.


So you said last year

and the year before that, and the year before that.


Pirse is a clever, dangerous opponent. Trust me, my dear Damon. You would not find it an easy matter to deal with him, were you in my position.


Of course not, Your Majesty. I meant no criticism. However, my offer of assistance stands. Say the word, and I can send a dozen troops of guards to aid in your next hunt for your nephew.


That won

t be necessary.


Well, at least you may rest assured that if I ever find that Pirse has set foot outside of Dherrica, by my vow, he will be hunted down and killed like the lawless Abstainer he is.


Abstainer he may be, but I would prefer him captured, not killed.

Palle passed his hand over his high forehead, wiping away a sheen of sweat that was not caused by the young fire on the hearth.

When a ruling Shaper commits such a heinous crime, he should be judged before the law readers and his own people.


Not that it is even an issue,

Damon said.

Your border patrols will never permit Pirse to enter Rhenlan.


Exactly.

Palle refilled Damon

s wine glass and deftly turned the conversation away from the troublesome Pirse. Damon allowed himself to be distracted, at least for the moment. He would not argue with Palle about the competence of his border guards or the inaccessibility of Dherrica

s mountain villages. Damon knew, even if Palle didn

t, that if Palle were king in more than name he could have inspired the Keepers of Dherrica to locate and capture Pirse within the first half-year after Dea

s death. Even without the cooperation of the outlying villages, Palle

s guardsmen should have been loyal enough, and competent enough, to catch up with Pirse at least once in the past almost-four years.

Instead, for some reason that Damon did not yet completely understand, Pirse remained free. Rumor said that he protected villagers against Abstainers during the harsh mountain winters, which could explain his popularity among the Keepers. Damon had heard nothing to suggest that Pirse did not spend all of his time within the borders of Dherrica, but it didn

t hurt to raise the suspicion in Palle

s mind.

Every spring, Palle said that he was going to bring Pirse to justice, and every spring he allowed the fugitive prince to slip through his nets. Why? Perhaps Palle had less control over his guard troops than he liked to pretend. Did they fail to obey Palle

s orders to capture the prince

or did they refuse? The other possibility was that Pirse

s continued freedom had something to do with his role as dragon slayer. Damon knew all the tales about dragons and the deadly danger they represented, and believed about half of them. Rhenlan, however, was rarely visited by dragons. Damon had never seen one. Yet they seemed important to Palle, important enough that he let Pirse live, even though that weakened his authority as king. Did Palle know more than he was telling Damon?

Damon leaned his elbows on the table, and turned the conversation to the subject of dragons.

* * *


You

re daft,

Doron insisted.


I

m not arguing, am I?

Pirse replied patiently.

She gave him credit for the patience. Everything else he had done appalled her.

What if there

d been an early blizzard? You of all people should know better than to risk the high roads so soon after midwinter

and the pass from Larch Valley at that!

Because he was sitting behind her on the bed, she couldn

t see his face. His fingers continued to knead the back of her neck.

I had to be here.


Then you should have come earlier.


Well, it

s done. I

m here. Don

t get yourself in a dither.


I do not dither.

She intended to say more. Instead, she had to inhale with the beginning of another contraction.


Don

t push yet,

warned the Brownmother who sat at the foot of the bed.

Doron nodded, panting a little, lost in the contradiction of having to try to relax her muscles while the very center of her body insisted otherwise. Finally, the incredible tension eased and the contraction faded away.


All right?

Pirse murmured in her ear.


I

d rather be dyeing wool.

Lifting skeins of wet wool in and out of vats never tired her as much as the last few hours had done.


You

re doing fine,

Brownmother Seildon said with a smile for Pirse.

One more like that and I think we

ll be ready to get to work.


Good,

Pirse said.

The sooner we finish the sooner we can all have something to eat. I know I

m getting hungry.


Well, I

m not,

Doron snapped. His patience she could live with. His determination to be cheerful was another matter.


Of course not,

the Brownmother agreed.

Dinner should be the last thing on your mind, Your Highness.

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