Moons' Dreaming (Children of the Rock) (8 page)

* * *

Three hundred people had crowded into the castle courtyard, and more were coming all the time. Despite this, or because of it, the silence was eerie. Jordy reached back and rested a wiry arm over his son
’
s shoulders, drawing the boy up beside him. Tob glanced at him quickly from under thick black lashes, concerned. Jordy shook his head, motioning for silence.

Although the Rock Pool was hidden beyond the heads of the people in front of them, Jordy could just hear the rise and fall of single voices uttering their remembrances. A young woman
’
s voice was saying,
“
... a very gentle way with the kitchen cat. The princess said she had a favorite cat at home and spoke of going back to visit it. I remember a woman who knew kindness.
”

Around them heads nodded solemnly. After a suitable pause another, masculine voice was raised.
“
The princess
’
s favorite color was rose. She asked for a rose bed cover when she first arrived at the castle. I remember going down to a woolen stall to buy one. I remember the princess with the color rose.
”

Again silence. Jordy waited a few seconds, then took a deep breath and spoke.

“
I remember her arrival in Edian.
”
His voice carried clearly to every corner of the courtyard, turning a few heads. He
’
d lived in Rhenlan for many years but his Dherrican accent had never blurred.
“
She arrived with royal escort, official envoy between her kingdom and ours. Remember her as her mother
’
s child, called to fill an impossible role.
”

Beside him, Tob stiffened uncomfortably. Jordy returned the sharp glances of his neighbors, not bothering to mask his anger. Let them hear the truth! Let them remember! Wasn
’
t that what they had come for?

A voice close to the Rock Pool began to speak. Jordy listened long enough to be certain that he had sparked some remembrances of more serious aspects of the princess
’
s life and death. Then he dropped his hand to Tob
’
s elbow and pressed the boy toward the gate once more. People made way for them so they in turn could press closer to the Pool and its ceremony. Jordy doubted that every one of these people had a personal remembrance of the princess to contribute, but whether they contributed or merely came to witness, the important thing was that they had come.

Movement atop the courtyard wall drew Jordy
’
s eye upward. Standing between two bowmen was a slender figure, his black hair cropped just below his ears. Prince Damon. He was paying no attention to the mass of people crowding the courtyard. Instead he was gazing toward the Pool and, Jordy realized, his sister. So, she did not have His Highness
’
s approval for the ceremony? Damon couldn
’
t have expected to avoid a Remembering. According to the word that had spread through Edian, the king had killed the poor girl with all proper pomp and ceremony. A Remembering was the next logical step. You couldn
’
t just bury a body without remembering the person
’
s life. However, a private ceremony restricted to the inhabitants of the castle might have been more to the king
’
s liking.

Jordy glanced briefly over his shoulder. He never had caught a glimpse of Prince Damon
’
s younger sister, the princess who had initiated the ceremony. For the first time, Jordy wondered just how dangerous her position was. Officially, traditionally, she had done the right thing, paying homage to a person who had been a guest, however unwilling, of her family.

But doing the correct thing according to protocol and doing the correct thing for the convenience of King Hion were two separate matters entirely. Neither the king nor his son had reputations for tolerance among the Keepers outside Edian. Jordy hoped fervently that Damon
’
s sister knew what she was doing. He had no use for Shapers and their increasingly high-handed ways, but he had to give his grudging respect to the girl. She at least knew what she was supposed to do
—
and did it.

An eddy in the crowd propelled them suddenly through the gate and onto the road next to the castle walls. As soon as they were outside Tob said,
“
So many people to remember one woman.
”

“
Not just any woman, lad. An innocent playing piece in a game not many understand.
”

They started down the hill side by side, turning away from the road that would have led them to the town square, making instead for the pasture where they had left the horse and wagon.

“
Do you understand it, Dad?
”
Tob asked in a quiet voice.

“
Yes and no,
”
Jordy replied after a long moment.
“
What I do understand, I don
’
t like.
”

To his relief, the boy dropped the painful subject. Jordy enjoyed answering his son
’
s questions-when he had answers.

Today he had none.

* * *

The final relay station west of Bronle was a lonely farm perched on the side of a hill. The Keeper and his family expressed neither gratitude nor resentment at being chosen to stable a pair of the queen
’
s horses for the use of passing messengers. At least not in Pirse
’
s hearing. Pirse only used the relay stations occasionally. He preferred his usual mount, an experienced animal who would carry him willingly against their enemies and back again with hardy endurance and a canny instinct for dragon fighting. But this mad a dash would have killed him
—
the animal would have galloped without complaint until his heart burst. Pirse had chosen instead to make for the messenger relay trail and leave his favorite horse, winded but still whole, at one of the stables.

His eighth horse galloped valiantly into the cramped farmyard. The overcast sky, milky-white overlaid with ragged-edged clumps of gray cloud, hung low and menacing overhead, shifting with erratic gusts of wind. The horse shuddered as he reined it in in front of the barn. The farmer, gray-bearded and stocky, swung open the doors as Pirse slid down to the ground.

“
I
’
m Prince Pirse. I require a fresh horse for Bronle.
”

As the farmer saddled a long-legged gray, Pirse wolfed down the last of his supplies. The man offered no conversation. Pirse chewed hard cheese and harder bread, concentrating on that rather than on morbid imaginings. There was nothing threatening in the man
’
s silence. He probably just disapproved of anyone who arrived on an ill-used animal. Only a fool would read more into the farmer
’
s troubled expression than that.

Except that he
’
d passed a shepherd girl just before noon with much the same look on her face. A pack of children weeding a field in the valley below had stopped to stare and point at him.

That was not unusual. But none had waved. He was their prince. Whatever the failings of other Shapers, in his own family or elsewhere, he had always kept his vows. He was used to friendliness from those under his protection, not aversion. There was no excuse for the dread which had been following him all day. No excuse for the silent and closed faces.

No excuse, at least among the Keepers. Perhaps they were only reflecting his own disgust
—
or he was reflecting it in what he thought he saw
—
with Hion
’
s maneuverings. Perhaps they worried about queen
’
s guards skirmishing on borders, when they should have been protecting roads from Abstainer bands. Perhaps they shared his impatience with his mother for succumbing to Rhenlan
’
s view of needing to have borders to fight across in the first place.

The farmer led the gray out of the barn. Pirse transferred his sword to the fresh horse. Without trying to meet the farmer
’
s eye he threw himself into the saddle and rode away.

“
The citizens are starting to gather in the great hall, Captain.
”
The messenger stood in front of the battered old table in Dael
’
s private room above the guard
’
s quarters. Dael
’
s predecessor had used the table for a knife-throwing target. Dael looked down at the wood, absently counting the scars as he half-listened to each messenger
’
s report.

Another heavy-booted youngster pushed through the doorway.
“
Sentries are posted as you ordered, sir,
”
the teenage girl said.
“
We
’
re putting merchants
’
horses just outside the wall.
”

“
Very good.
”
Without looking up, he recognized the step of the next lad.
“
Is Redmother Vissa coming?
”

“
Yes, sir.
”

“
Good. Go to your posts.
”
They hesitated, and he remembered to look up.
“
Thank you.
”
They were used to him showing his appreciation of their efforts. He didn
’
t offer them a smile, but they filed out obediently after his words, apparently not troubled by the lapse.

As the room emptied, the report of the night sergeant, the news with which he
’
d begun his day, ran through his thoughts again. Trying to ignore it wasn
’
t working. Trying not to worry wasn
’
t working. He sensed danger, though he had no solid reason for his fear.

The sergeant
’
s words had not been particularly alarming. A carriage, accompanied by a half-troop of guards, had left the castle yard shortly after midnight. Nothing too unusual in that. Some of the king
’
s relatives were known to come and go from Edian at odd hours. Dael had assumed that some cousin had decided to leave for the family holdings, and thought no more about the report.

Until Vray failed to appear for archery practice.

The girl never missed archery practice. Or any other chance to pester him. After five years of his training, she was good with a bow. She had to be. She knew he wouldn
’
t put up with her if she didn
’
t take the work seriously. In the last year she
’
d used the lessons as an excuse to try to seduce him. Actually, she used almost every opportunity to try to seduce him. But she
’
d also continued to improve her skill, so he
’
d had no cause to send her away. Besides, he enjoyed her company, even when he had to dodge her inexperienced advances.

When she didn
’
t come down to the archery range at the usual time, he began coaching his other students anyway. He thought her annoyance at missing a few moments of his awesome wisdom would be punishment enough.

It was a few minutes before it occurred to him that she might still be grieving for Emlie. The gods knew that the dead girl was still on his mind. He had been hoping to pretend everything was the same as the day before the execution. When Vray didn
’
t appear, he realized it was a vain hope. He left his students to practice on their own and went in search of his princess.

Her maid told him she was gone. The girl couldn
’
t say where. Sometime in the night they
’
d been awakened, the princess had been taken to a waiting coach, and the maid had just managed to throw a few things into a bag and convince a guard to take it down before the party left.

Dael stood and paced away from the table. Perhaps she
’
d been sent to her mother
’
s estate. Perhaps to Garden Vale, or to some relative on the many outlying Shaper estates. It was best for the king to have the symbol of tradition out of the way, out of hearing, when Damon made his speech. If Vray wasn
’
t in Edian, she could not remind the citizens of yesterday
’
s Remembering. Hion had no love for his daughter. Dael had tended bruises inflicted by the king
’
s hand more than once in the last six years. Hion was astute, and the girl was an inconvenience.

She
’
ll be back in a day or two
, Dael reasoned.
A nineday at most. She
’
ll be livid at having been shuffled out of the way, but perfectly safe.