Tricksters Queen (17 page)

"Please, Master Grosbeak, I'm maid to Lady Dovasary at Balitang House." Aly had tucked a darking with a peony inside it into her sash on the way to Grosbeak's. Now she smoothed her hands over her sash, as if drying her palms. "I wasn't mocking, sir, truly." Rubbing the sash was her cue to Peony. The darking flowed out the back of her sash and down to the floor. Aly stepped closer to the desk so that Grosbeak could not see her below the hips.

"Have you anything to report? Treasonous talk against the regents or His Majesty, letters and messages from mysterious sources, private chats between nobles without the servants to hear? Gossip from the servants about making trouble in the streets? Rumors of unrest, or traitors?" He scowled when she didn't answer right away. "This is Rajmuat,
wench.
Someone always talks loosely."

"Well, but, sir, we've only been back in the city less than a week, and first my ladies had to go to court, and folk are calling, and there's dresses to be made, and my lord Elsren comes and goes from the palace, it's really all very confusing. They were sad when they saw some people from the Ibadun family had been killed when we came, and Lady Dove was scared bad when a fight broke out near us at Dockmarket yesterday..."

She nattered at him until he tired and dismissed her, with orders to listen to more conversations between noble guests. Aly curtsied as much as the sarong allowed, to ensure that Peony was tucked under Grosbeak's desk. When she saw that glint of flower, she knew the darking would manage well, and retreated. The old woman scowled at her in the front room, while a newcomer turned her head so that Aly could not see her face.

Aly was smiling as she turned into an alley two doors down from Grosbeak's. By the time she visited the man again, she would know a great deal more about who was loyal to the regents and who was not. Then she could do her best to direct Grosbeak's—and Topabaw's—suspicious eyes toward their own supporters.

In the alley, she stepped into a dark corner between buildings. "All right, Trick," she murmured. "If you want to spend life as a necklace ..."

The darking poked its new bead-head out of her sash. "See more," it explained.

"Very true," said Aly. She gently lifted the Trick-bead string from her sash and draped it over her neck. It felt like cool drops of water rolling over her skin as Trick arranged itself in two loops of shiny beads. Under her right ear, one bead joined with another as a kind of clasp, giving Trick a slightly bigger head to speak from, where Aly could easily hear it.

Once she was freshly arrayed, Aly went in search of her mistress. Dove had moved on from the booksellers where Aly had left her group, so Aly walked along until she saw Dove's unofficial guards. They pointed out the three household guards stationed at the entrance to the largest shop on Dori Way: Herbrand Edgecliff, Bookseller and Importer.

"How long has she been in there?" Aly asked the man-at-arms positioned by the main entrance.

"Long enough for my feet to hurt," drawled the man, an ex-bandit and devoted family servant.

Aly smiled. "Then I believe I'll wait out here. How many books can one person read?" she joked, with only a little, well-hidden wistfiilness for long winter afternoons spent curled up, reading until her eyes began to blur.

The man-at-arms grinned. "Don't ask me—I can't read anyway." Then pride dawned on his face. "But my daughter can. Her Grace's maid's been teaching the little ones."

Aly smiled. She understood a father's pride. "She's a clever girl," Aly told him. "With luck she'll go far."

To keep from distracting him, she wandered along the storefront, part of her mind on the talk around her, part on what she had planned for that evening, and part on the bookseller's display. He had a very expensive front window, made of small panes of costly glass, the better to show off his wares. The books looked gorgeous, even through the warps and bubbles in the glass.

Something caught her eye. In the lowest right-hand pane in the corner, someone had scratched a design. Aly sharpened her magical Sight. The emblem of the open shackle was cut into the window. More importantly, it had been done from inside. Someone working in the shop, perhaps Master Edgecliff himself, supported the rebellion.

She yawned. "Maybe I can hint that it's getting toward lunchtime," she told the guard, and ambled into the shop, switching her behind like a lazy servant girl. When the door closed behind her, she reached into the bag that hung from her sash. It was like reaching into a bowl filled with lively cool liquid. A ball of it moved up into her palm. Gently Aly brought out a darking and, while looking at a wall of books, deposited it on a bottom shelf. There was an inch-wide gap between shelf and floor: the darking slid into it and vanished.

Pleased with her morning labor—she would place two more darkings on the way home, one at the checkpoint on Joshain and Trade Winds Street and one near Topabaw's spy outside Balitang House—Aly went to find Dove.

As the household napped, Aly returned to her workroom to talk with her pack and their recruits. They were training more people, teaching them how to gather information and where to send it. And there was news: Vereyu had sent a note from the palace. It seemed that the night before, Topabaw had been forced to interrupt the regents' supper with the news that the luarin governor of Ikang Island had been murdered. Servants had been present to hear both Topabaw's admission that he had no information as yet and Imajane's enraged reply, "Then what good
are
you?"

Aly smiled with pleasure. Already the relationship between the princess-regent and her spymaster was fraying and they had foolishly, or arrogantly, shown it before witnesses. "We must do our best to ensure that Topabaw continues to look unable to manage his work," she murmured, going through new reports on her desk. At the bottom of the stack was a slate with code signs written in chalk: YsuFs notice that her requested pots of blazebalm were ready for use. Before her pack returned to their own jobs, she said, "Those of you who were with me two nights ago, I'll require you at midnight once more." They nodded and left.

Ulasim stuck his head in the door as the last of Aly’s pack filed out. "The guests have begun to arrive," he said. "And the young eagles have decided they wish to go riding to Lady Weeps Park."

Aly raised an eyebrow in silent question.

Ulasim answered it. "Her Grace says they will all go, including Lady Dovasary." He gave his thin smile. "Dove is not pleased. She has new books to read. Her Grace says His Grace of Nomru
particularly
requests his young friend's company."

Well, that's that, Aly thought, getting to her feet. It's not as if she can turn down one of the ten most powerful nobles in the realm.

She had asked Dove two nights ago, as she prepared her mistress's hair for bedtime, why she talked so much with a man old enough to be her grandfather. Dove had replied, "He's one of the few people who can keep up with me, and I with him. It's a pleasant change from having to slow down to deal with most people."

Aly, looking at Dove in the mirror, raised an eyebrow.

Dove smiled. "Not
you,
silly. I have trouble keeping up with
you.
Where everyone else sees a straight line, you see a maze, and when I'm done talking to you, the maze starts to make more sense."

"Thank you, I think," Aly had replied then. Now she amended her thought. Dove
would
risk offending one of the realm's most popular nobles if she didn't actually like him.

With Nuritin in command of household social functions, it was less than an hour until they were ready to go. Sarai's court of young men drew straws for the honor of riding at her side. Aly noticed that the Carthaki Zaimid did not choose to compete. Instead he rode with Nuritin, keeping pace with the duchess and her father, Lord Matfrid Fonfala.

Sarai's court supplied all the color and liveliness their parade could want, laughing and joking. At last the park appeared at the end of their road, the entrance graced by curved palm trees. Five wild kudarung soared overhead on the days heated air. Even the younger riders stopped to watch, awed. When they entered the park, they did so quietly.

Aly and the other servants ended up in a pavilion set near the gate and the stables. Those nobles who chose not to ride left their mounts and wandered among the flower gardens, eating delicacies sold at small pavilions. Sarai and her companions rode on the park's horse paths, racing each other, Sarai determined to beat them all. She lost only to Zaimid.

After the racing, the horses were led to the stables to be cared for by the hands who worked there. The young people then joined the older ones for rest, food, and conversation. Aly wandered into the stables, admiring the horses and flirting with the hostlers, while she slipped a darking each into the saddle blankets of Duke Nomru, Lord Fonfala, and the Dowager Countess Tomang. She had talked to the creatures about what they were to do and questioned them enough to know that they understood her quite well. Though the darklings did not care to be elaborate with spoken language—perhaps because speech was a tricky affair for them—they were very intelligent.

Once the mosquitoes came out, it was time to return. Pembery, Boulaj, and Aly repaired their mistresses' appearances with degrees of success. Pembery and Aly did well enough because their ladies had spent the afternoon talking. As soon as Pembery finished, Winnamine went to see if the horses were ready to go. Boulaj had more of a struggle. Sarai had lost every one of the hairpins that had kept both her straight and her curled locks in place. She shook her long mane free. "Don't pin it, Boulaj," she ordered. "Whose idea was it anyway to make us torture our heads?"

"It's not seemly," protested Boulaj. "Young ladies are supposed to wear their hair up."

"Aly, there's a sheer scarf in my bag," Dove murmured. "Somebody should have thought to tell Boulaj that Sarai's old maid always carried spare pins." She looked at Pembery, eyes narrowed, as Aly searched out the scarf Dove had mentioned. "You were friends with her," Dove told her stepmother's attendant. As senior maid, it was Pembery's job to help Boulaj, as Dove well knew. "Perhaps you might tell Boulaj the different tricks to dressing my sister that she knew."

Pembery recognized a command even when it was phrased as a request. "Yes, Lady Dovasary." Dove didn't look away until Pembery gave a small bow of her head.

Aly produced the scarf, a gold and red length of silk that covered Sarai's hair enough for everyone but sticklers like Nuritin and Countess Tomang, who sniffed at the same time. Aly restrained a giggle and Boulaj covered a grin.

The party was quiet from weariness as they rode back down the stepped rises that lifted the different levels of the city above the harbor. Though it was still spring, the day had been warm and sticky, a hint of summer to come. Nomru and Matfrid Tomang spoke idly of moving to country estates for the summer. Zaimid told his companions, Sarai, Dove, and Sarai's friend Isalena Obemaek, that he wouldn't miss the dampness at all when he returned to hot, dry Carthak.

The closer they went to the heart of the city, the more Aly's skin prickled. The sidewalks were unusually crowded, even for this time of day, and few people on them were moving. Instead they stared at the noble riders. At Sarai.

Aly eased along the line of guards until she found the commander of the Balitang men-at-arms. Junai moved in from the other side of the thin ring of men to listen to Aly. First Aly counted, then wished she hadn't. The Balitangs had sent five soldiers. Most of the other riders had brought one, maybe two, guards, not anticipating trouble on an afternoon's ride to the park.

"You've got your cautious face on," the guards' commander murmured. "What is it?"

"Too many quiet people who are just staring," Aly replied. "And we know who they're staring at, too. Is there any way we can avoid the next army checkpoint?"

"I would think you'd
want
soldiers to handle the crowd," he replied.

Aly and Junai both shook their heads. "Oil on tinder," Junai explained. "The soldiers itching for a fight and the people itching to get at soldiers."

"It might not be too inconvenient to the regents if the very popular Balitang sisters got hurt—or accidentally killed—in a fight between a mob and soldiers. Things get so confused in street fighting—"

"Too late," the commander interrupted, "here's the checkpoint. I'll pass the word for everyone to look sharp."

Ahead, the road crossed with Rittevon's Lance, the street that went from the palace down to the docks. The soldiers at the checkpoint warily eyed the people, who outnumbered them, but did nothing to send them away or to hinder the nobles. It was five blocks farther down that the mob swept out of the side streets to surround the riders. In eerie silence, many of the new arrivals ragged and dirty, they tried to force their way through the guards, reaching for Sarai.

"Whatever you are doing, this is neither the time nor the place." Duke Nomru had a thundering voice when he cared to use it. "You will bring grief upon yourselves with this display. Return to your homes!" He wheeled his mount, forcing the people nearest him to back away.

Ferdy Tomang had stronger feelings. "Raka dogs!" he cried, lashing the nearest member of the crowd with his riding crop. "Back to your kennels!"

Oh, splendid, Aly thought, rolling her eyes. Our hero.

The eerie silence broke with a roar. Half of the mob turned on the young count. Ferdy spurred his horse to rear. The other noblemen and Matfrid Fonfala did the same, urging their mounts to turn on their hind legs, showing everyone the crushing power of those raised front hooves.

Balitang House's people had been trained for this, even if the guards with them had not. Junai and a man-at-arms collected the duchess and Nuritin. They drew them and the other noblewomen onto the sidewalk to put a building at their backs and take them out of the physical movement on the street. Aly gripped Sarai's and Dove's mounts, forcing them toward the same wall.

"Sarai, don't!" cried Dove. Aly looked up.