Sing the Four Quarters (3 page)

And as long as we're breathing, we can't keep air out
Annice tried not to fidget
Why don't they get on with it9

One after another, the king's family approached the bed for the formal farewell, first the cousins—
A nonrepresentative
sample at best
, Annice snorted silently—then the aunt, then the uncle and his partner As youngest child, Annice should've gone next, but somehow Milena and the due ended up by the bed Annice was proud of the subtle manipulation she'd performed in order to move her sister up a place in line—a bit of shy hanging back combined with a silent plea to the sister for rescue—until she caught the Bardic Captain watching her Flushing slightly, she quickly schooled her features

Finally, it was her turn

The growth just under the edge of her father's ribs had been killing him slowly for the last two quarters Here, at the end, he was a physical caricature of himself, flesh long melted away skin hanging loose on the bone, gray hair dull and brittle Only his eyes remained unchanged even sunk as they were deep below saffron-tinted cheeks Annice dropped gracefully to one knee, took a deep breath, and caught up the limp hand lying against the embroidered coverlet in both of hers "Most gracious and regal Majesty, I request a boon"

The corners of his mouth twitched slightly "Go on"

"I do request that rather than be promised to the Heir of Cemandia, to be joined for political expedience when we are of an age, I be permitted to enter the Bardic Hall of Elbasan"

Within her grip his fingers moved "Who promises you to Cemandia's Heir7"

"Theron"

The old king's eyes blazed "Theron," he said in a stronger voice than any had heard from him in days, "does not rule yet"

Theron leaned forward "Lord Juraj, the ambassador, only spoke of it, Majesty"

"Yet neither you nor he saw fit to speak with the king"

"We did not wish to tire you over mere speculation"

"You passed this speculation to your sister"

"Only to see if she would be willing"

The dying man jerked out a dry laugh "Obviously, she is not"

Go ahead
, Annice thought,
tell him that I never told you I didn't want to go along with your premature little power
play and I'll call you a liar to your face Go ahead, Your Royal Highness, Heir of Shkoder, I
dare
you
She could feel the heat of Theron's glare, but all he said was, "I would not force her"

"You
cannot
force her." The king paused, fighting for breath, but Annice could feel the pressure of his fingers against hers and knew he wasn't finished After a moment, he turned his head toward the Bardic Captain "You have been after her for some time"

It had been an open secret in the palace for very nearly a year Annice had no idea why her father hadn't agreed and realized she was attempting to force his hand as much as her brother's

"Her Highness has both talent and skill," the captain al lowed diplomatically. "If you give your permission and she is willing to take the oath, the Hall will accept her for training."

"Did you know of this… boon?" Captain Liene's eyes never left the king's face. "No, Majesty. I did not."

"Very well." The king lay quietly for another moment. When he spoke again, his voice held the ringing tone of proclamation. "I, Mikus, King of Shkoder, High Captain of the Broken Islands, Lord over the Mountain Principalities of Sibiu, Ohrid, Ajud, Bicaz, and Somes, do on this day grant the boon of my youngest daughter that she should be permitted to enter the Bardic Hall of Elbasan. Witness?"

As the only bard present, the captain nodded. "I so witness."

Annice released a breath she couldn't remember holding. "Thank you, Majesty." Then she stood to take a formal farewell of her king. Her father.

After the words, which were words only, as her lips pressed a kiss against his cheek, he whispered, "Well played."

Later, after the death had been witnessed and they were waiting for priest and bard and the new king to leave the bedchamber, Milena cornered her in the king's solar and hissed, "Just what's wrong with the Heir of Cemandia?"

"Nothing." Annice jerKed her arm out of her sister's grip. "I just don't want to be joined with anyone. I want to be a bard."

"And you always get what you want, don't you? Did you even consider your family obligations? Of course you didn't.

There's a price to be paid for good food and warm clothes and a lifetime of servants saying 'yes, Highness, and no, Highness.' " Milena tossed her braid back over her shoulder. "But I always said Theron spoiled you."

"He did not!" He'd just always been there when their mother had been interested only in the beautiful Irenka or their father had been too busy being the king, which was most of the time. Theron had brought her the news of their mother's accident and she'd clutched his hand when they'd buried her, not understanding why the healers couldn't fix her. She'd been the first after the proud parents to hold Theron's baby girl. That wasn't being spoiled. "Look, Milena, you're happy. Why can't I be?"

"I found happiness on the path of duty. Obviously, that's not good enough for you." Having said what she'd come to say, Milena spun on her heel and returned to her partner's side. After a moment, their heads moved so close together a feather wouldn't fit between them.

Annice felt her lip curl watching them, so she propped one leg on the window ledge and glanced around the room.

Everyone seemed to be staying as far away from her as they could get, as if afraid physical proximity might implicate them in her plan.
Well, Theron had been pretty angry and was likely to stay that way for some time
. Only Tomelis would meet her eyes.
Why does he look so sad
? she wondered. Just for an instant, she wondered if she might have made a tactical error. How could she at fourteen actually outmaneuver a man nineteen years her senior?

But I've done it. With everyone else joined before Theron takes the throne, he's already let me know that I'm too strong
a game piece for him to lose from the board. Even if I didn't join with Prince Rajmund, he'd never let me become a
bard.

He couldn't stop her now.

The door to the bedchamber opened and the men and women in the solar dropped to one knee as the new king emerged. Expecting him to walk right on through, Annice was startled when he stopped before her.

"By the will of the late King Mikus," he said, "you have permission to enter Bardic Hall. I, Theron, King of Shkoder, High Captain of the Broken Islands, Lord over the Mountain Principalities of Sibiu, Ohrid, Adjud, Bicaz, and Somes, do on this day declare that by doing so you forfeit all rights of royalty, that you shall surrender all titles and incomes, that all save your personal possessions shall revert to the crown. Furthermore, for the stability of the realm, you may neither join nor bear children without the express permission of the crown. To do so will be considered a treasonous act and will be punished as such."

Annice thought she heard a deep voice murmur a protest, quickly hushed. Eyes narrowed, she glared up at her brother, her new king.

"Do you understand?" he asked, his lips pulled tight against his teeth. To be convicted of an act of treason was to face a Death Judgment.

He thought she'd back down. Well, he was wrong. "I understand."

"Witness!"

Behind him, the Bardic Captain sighed. "Witnessed."

Annice thought she saw something that might have been regret flicker for a moment in Theron's eyes then he turned away from her and said, "Done."

CHAPTER TWO

Done
. Annice pulled off her mitten and rubbed the back of her hand under her nose.
Sometimes Bardic Memory stinks
.

She didn't know whether she'd seen regret that afternoon or just imagined it. She'd never spoken to Theron, to any of them, again. Not once in ten years. She wasn't even sure if
that
was his idea or hers. "Annice?" Jon laid his huge hand lightly on her shoulder. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"I didn't mean your stomach." She sighed and let it go with the breath. "I know." He sat back, still watching her, worry creasing his face. "I'm sorry I brought it up." He offered her a tentative smile. "I'll forget it if you like."

"Will you forget that unenclosed song, too?"

"I'll even pound it out of my brother's head." Annice grinned and held out her fist. "Done," she said.

"You want yer weight carried back upriver in the spring, Bard, you whistle me up." Sarlo smacked her fist into the top of Annice's with enthusiasm. The kigh had got them to Riverton one full day faster than average. "Pity I couldn't use yer help in the races."

"Wouldn't you rather win because of your skill not because of a push from the kigh?"

Sarlo snorted. "I'd rather win."

Grinning, Annice bent to pick up her pack but found Jon already holding it. "Thank you." She slipped her arms behind the leather straps, settled the familiar weight on her shoulders, and turned to face him. "And thank you for offering the ride. Considering the weather, and the way I'm feeling, I'd have been lucky to get home by First Quarter Festival, let alone Fourth."

A smile gleamed in the depths of his beard. "I was glad of the company. You sure you're going to be okay for this last little distance?"

"I just spent two quarters walking to Ohrid and back," she reminded him. "I think I can manage." She held out her fist.

"Good trading, Jonukas i'Evicka."

"Good music, Annice." He let his fist rest against hers for a moment, "And see a healer. All that puking isn't natural."

She nodded. "The moment I get home. Or maybe first thing tomorrow," she amended, glancing at the rapidly darkening sky.

"Witness?"

"Jon, I can't witness for myself."

"Then promise."

"Oh, all right." Shaking her head, she traced the sign of the Circle over her heart. "I promise." She waved at Avram, who waved back from his perch on top of the cargo cover, and regretted one last time that she hadn't felt well enough, long enough, to try to get to know him better. Picking her way carefully along the wet rocks, she started up the dock toward home.

"Annice?"

Hand against the hull of a riverboat already out of the water for the season, Annice half twisted around.

"May I tell my brother?"

The brother who knew all twenty-seven verses to "The Princess-Bard." She laughed ruefully. "Why not?"

The rain held off and in spite of the road, a muddy mess from previous downpours that somehow seemed more resilient under her boots than it should, Annice reached the bridge over the new canal before full dark.

The East Keeper lumbered out of his tiny shelter and held out a massive hand.

"Bards don't pay toll," Annice reminded him and started to go around.

He blocked her path.

And most of the rest of the bridge
, she realized.
Big boy
.

"How do I know you're a bard?"

"You could take my word for it." It wasn't healthy to lie about being a bard. Bards who found out tended not to take it very well.

"No, I can't." Crossing meaty arms over a barrel chest, the keeper scowled down at her. "Sing for me."

"What?"

"I want you to Sing me your name."

That she'd be expected to identify herself in order to enter the city used up about all the patience she had remaining.

Taking a deep breath, she looked him in the eye and said, "Get out of my way."

He responded to her Command with the gratifying promptness shown by most petty tyrants and others of like personality. Resisting the urge to tell him to jump in the canal and realizing she was teetering just beyond the edge of her oath as it was, Annice stomped up and over the arch and into Elbasan.

Her mood lightened as she followed River Road into the heart of the city. Evenings were long at the dark end of the Third Quarter, so taverns and soup shops were doing their best business of the year. Annice briefly considered stopping for supper before she headed up the hill, but smells, individual and combined, from a thousand different sources changed her mind. She was
not
going to throw up in the gutter like a common drunk.

At least she hoped she wasn't.

Hill Street to the Citadel seemed steeper than it had when she'd left. She felt ready to collapse when she reached the wall and sagged panting against the stone by the gate.
You'd think that after walking for two quarters I'd be in better
shape
. Nothing hurt, she just felt drained. As she stood there, trying to catch her breath, the clouds that had been threatening finally made good on their promise of rain.
Shit
.

Dragging up her hood, she decided she was too exhausted to Sing the Bard's Door open and staggered in under the arch of the main gate. She didn't know the guard on duty, but the bard had been a fledgling with her.

"Annice. Bard. Going to the Bardic Hall."

Jazep peered up under her hood. "Witnessed," he said. "You look like you've fallen out of the Circle, Nees." His deep voice rumbled with concern. "Rough Walk?"

"Long Walk," she told him, already moving. "I'll see you later."

The rain came down in icy sheets as she made her way diagonally across Citadel Square. A dry route existed through barracks and stables and storerooms, but she wasn't up to negotiating her way past their occupants. It was faster and easier to get wet.

Eventually, putting one foot in front of the other, she arrived at the main entrance to the hall. Lifting her head, she blew a drop of water off the end of her nose, pulled the door open, and went inside.

The bard sitting duty in the main hall glanced up from her book. "You're dripping."

"It's raining."

"Annice?"

Annice shook her hood back, spraying the immediate area with a fine patina of water.

"Well, I guess the Circle does hold everything. Welcome home, Annice." The older woman rested her fore arms on the desk and leaned forward, frowning. "You look awful."

"Thank you." If one more person told her that tonight, she was going to puke on their shoes. "If you'll record that I'm back, Ceci, I'm going up to bed. I don't even want to think about recall until morning."