The Quartered Sea (12 page)

"What is it, Benedikt? You're frowning."

"Am I? I beg your pardon, Majesty."

Risking another reprimand from her tailor, Jelena moved farther into the room. She liked the way he looked at her. He'd done it at Fort Kazpar and he was doing it again now. He made her feel worthy of the risk the
Starfarer's
crew was about to take in her name. There were those on the Council who suggested it might be better if the
Starfarer
carried a bard able to Sing more than one quarter but, for the sake of that look, Jelena would not, could not, imagine any other bard in Benedikt's place. "His Highness and I will be going with you as far as the Broken Islands."

His Highness meant Bannon, and Bannon meant… Actually, Benedikt didn't know what Bannon meant; figuratively and literally most of the time. He resisted the urge to rub his jaw. "You honor us all, Majesty."

She laughed. "Carrying crowned ballast is hardly an honor." Her outstretched hand was a symbolic gesture, given tailors and secretaries and tailor's assistants there was no way to physically bridge the distance between them. "Thank you for volunteering, Benedikt. If I could have chosen any bard, I'd have chosen you."

Bards could hear the truth. At this moment, and he couldn't insist on any more than this moment, she meant what she said.

"Majesty, please…"

Murmuring apologies, Jelena allowed the tailor to place her back in the center of the low pedestal. "Could you sing me something, Benedikt? Something to keep me from moving and destroying Edgard's work."

He wanted to reassure her, to tell her that he wouldn't let her down, so he sang her "The Dark Sailor." Not the way he'd been singing it, as a protest, but as a gift. When he finished, she smiled down at him and said softly, "I don't want you to worry about anything Kovar says to you."

Later, in the Bardic Captain's office, during an interview that was just as unpleasant as he'd anticipated, where all the possibilities Bannon had suggested were thrown at him, Benedikt held on to the memory of the queen's smile, so almost everything Kovar said made no impression at all.

Almost.

"All right, Benedikt. If you won't consider the good of the bards, then consider the good of the
Starfarer
. You only Sing water! Think man! What if a storm comes up or you need to send a kigh for help?"

"Then I'll Sing water. Or do you think they'll be worse off with me than with no bard at all?"

"That's not what I said."

"You didn't have to." Benedikt stood and stared down at the captain through narrowed eyes. "You want me to consider the bards? Well, how about this; by sending a bard on
Starfarer
, we support the queen and by sending me, we send the bard you can most afford to lose. As far as I can see, the bards win either way." Heart pounding, triumph making him feel like throwing up, he made it out of the office before Kovar could voice a protest.

Or agreement.

Chapter Four

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MAGDA stood with two friends just off the end of the gangplank, their healer's sashes allowing them a prime position as well as protecting them from the rough jostling of the crowds. Behind them, the people of Elbasan packed the pier and the waterfront, personal opinions on the value of the voyage keeping no one from enjoying a warm, sunny day and a celebration paid for by the crown. In front of them, the gangplank length of empty pier away, the
Starfarer
bobbed gently on the light chop.

Supplies and trade goods had been loaded. The captain and crew were on board.

"What's taking so long?" Magda wondered, bouncing up and down. Not particularly tall, she couldn't see a thing when she turned except hundreds of other people, all waiting for the arrival of the queen and her consort.

"I can see the pennants!" Jerrad, one of the other healers, announced. "They've made it to Lower Dock Street."

A sudden rise in the volume of cheering toward the other end of the pier backed up his observation and the crowd began to rearrange itself into two crowds flanking a wide aisle. A curse and splash marked the spot where someone went off the edge and into the water. A moment later a man's voice yelled "He's okay!" and the healers relaxed.

"I can't believe you'd rather stand out here with us peasants than parade to the docks with the royal party," Jerrad shouted by Magda's ear.

She grinned and ducked as one end of a streamer escaped the hands holding it and flapped over her head. "What?" she yelled up at him. "And miss all this?"

Once it had been determined she wouldn't be going with them…

"Because no matter how it may have seemed over the last four quarters, I'm not your personal healer. Johan is. He goes, Majesty; I stay and get some work done."

… personal good-byes had been said in the quiet of the royal apartments. As friend and cousin, she'd enthused with them over the possibilities unfolding and demanded that they bring her back a souvenir from the Broken Islands. As a healer, she'd kept her mouth shut. Jelena was healing; the idea of the voyage had brought her out of her grief, and Kovar's opposition to it had strengthened her hold on the crown. Grinning, Magda wondered if Kovar had any idea of how helpful he'd been.

"You look like a cat that's been into the cream," Jerrad told her. The streamer retrieved, they straightened.

"Are you surprised?" demanded their companion, one hand clutching her healer's sash as though afraid she might lose it. "She's surrounded by overstimulated kigh. Everyone who touches her is giving her a buzz. She'll be sizzling before this is over, you mark my words."

"Anzie!" Cheeks burning, Magda smacked Jerrad on the arm before he could add his quarter gull's worth. "That's not how it works!"

Anzeta's answer got lost in the roar of the crowd.

A pair of standard-bearers, each carrying the crowned ship of Shkoder over the symbols of the five principalities and the leaping dolphin of the Broken Islands, took up position at the bottom of the gangplank. They braced themselves as the silk banners, rising more than a bodylength over their heads, caught the offshore breeze and threatened to send them out to sea.

With everyone else craning for a first glimpse of the queen, Magda was the only one who saw their expressions of relief as the air around them, and only around them, suddenly stilled. As she'd seen no bards actually on the pier, she assumed Kovar was making himself useful from his place in the procession.

Four of the Queen's Ceremonial Guard, their long pikes topped with pennants similar to those flying from the
Starfarer's
rigging, took up position just in from the standard bearers. Her view blocked by a broad shoulder clad in gleaming armor, Magda bumped her hip against Jerrad until he moved down far enough for her to see again. The guard, a young woman she knew by sight, was grinning. Leaning forward, Magda aimed her voice at the edge of the ceremonial helmet. "Someone's going to get a strong laxative in her beer one of these nights." The grin vanished.

Her Majesty, Jelena, Queen of Shkoder, High Captain of the Broken Islands, Lord over the Mountain Principalities of Sibiu, Ohrid, Ajud, Bicaz, and Somes, looked terrific. Under her blue-and-cream travel clothes she remained a little thin, but her eyes sparkled and her cheeks were flushed with excitement. Magda felt as proud of the result as if she'd been personally responsible for it.

Two steps behind the queen, Otavas looked as incredible as he always did. He smiled and waved to the crowd as they called his name, but Magda could see that most of his attention was on Jelena and most of his joy was for hers.

Six or seven paces back, Bannon and Benedikt walked side by side.

His hands folded into white-knuckled fists by his thighs, Benedikt seemed to be doing his best to ignore the crowd. Magda could read his kigh from across the pier—she suspected she'd be able to read it from across the city. He loved the adulation. He was terrified of the possibility he might fail in front of so many.

Magda had to admit that, had it been her choice, she'd have chosen a more stable bard—by default, any other bard. On the other hand, it was quite clear that the queen's faith in him had done more for his self-esteem than she ever had.

Right at the moment, he was thinking that he should never have listened to her and should have boarded earlier with the crew; she could see it in his face.

Bannon's face, on the other hand, gave nothing away. As far as Magda knew, the possibility he might fail, at anything, had never entered Bannon's head. To her surprise, he suddenly looked directly at her and winked.

Behind the ex-assassin and the bard, a careful distance back of the boarding party, walked four priests from the Center in the Citadel, the Marshal of Shkoder, most of the members of the Queen's Council, and the Bardic Captain. From the look of it, Kovar and Benedikt had never had as much in common as they did this morning—Kovar, too, was doing his best to ignore the crowds.

After that first disastrous interview, he hadn't spoken to the younger bard. "
Why should I, Magda ? He doesn't listen to a word I say
."

Privately, Magda had very little sympathy for Kovar. Tadeus was right, he was attempting to make all the bards as cautious as he was himself, and it was frightening how well he'd succeeded. But he wasn't her patient, and it wasn't her business.

When the queen reached the top of the gangplank, the captain of the
Starfarer
stepped out to meet her, and the cheers of the crowds doubled in volume once more.

During their single meeting, Captain Lija i'Ales a'Berngards had gained Magda's full approval. She was a tall, thin, practical woman who dealt with difficult questions by first staring into the distance as though she could see the answers there. For all Magda knew, she could.

Magda had briefly met with all the members of the crew. Far from shore, sailing an unknown sea, was not the time to discover that one of the people confined on a tiny island of wood had a less than healthy kigh.

With queen, consort, and captain at the rail, Benedikt paused halfway between ship and pier, wet his lips, and raised his hands. By the time he spoke, there was silence enough for him to be heard.

"Shkoder's Throne," he said simply, and began to sing.

The sound of the anthem crashed over Magda like heavy surf, and she threw herself joyfully into it, adding her own voice to the din. She'd heard it sung better but never louder; the crowd on the left side of the pier seemed to be trying to drown out the crowd on the right.

On the
Starfarer
, the flag of Shkoder rose to the top of the mainmast, caught the breeze, and spread the crowned ship out against an azure sky. Jelena was smiling so broadly, Magda suspected her cheeks would hurt for the remainder of the voyage.

As the last line of the anthem deteriorated into screams of approval, Benedikt, looking a little battered by the volume, hurried the rest of the way up onto the main deck. The crew on board drew the gangplank in while crews standing by on the pier released the lines. The priests, tokens of the four quarters divided amongst them, stepped forward and enclosed both vessel and voyage in the blessing of the Circle.

Since the noise level made it unlikely that a kigh would respond, a pilot boat took the
Starfarer
out to mid channel where she and the two ships accompanying her as far as the Broken Islands swept out of the harbor on the ebbing tide. A little larger, the
Starfarer's
companions carried the rest of the queen's company and would provide a way for her to return home.