Tricksters Queen (22 page)

Sarai pouted even more. "I bet Their Highnesses expect it. I bet they'll have hundreds and hundreds of soldiers inside the walls, waiting for something just like this."

Good point, Aly thought. But Ulasim and Fesgao will make sure of that before they go. They're too sharp to miss something that obvious.

Sarai continued, "You'll all be arrested, and maybe even put on display at the harbor mouth, and
then
who will be my escort to the Summersend Ball?"

"Or mine?" added one of the sillier noblewomen.

The realization of the likely consequences slowly dawned in the young men's faces. When Sarai reminded them of arrest and execution, they began to lose their enthusiasm. It took a little more work, but in the end Sarai had cast their feverish excitement to the four winds.

Out of curiosity's sake, Aly looked at Zaimid. The Carthaki watched Sarai and the noblemen, the tiniest of smiles on his lips. He knows what she's doing, Aly told herself. And he's not surprised by the results.

When talk turned to a riding party the day after the lunar eclipse, Aly ended her watch on the nobles and returned to her workroom. There was more to do, and she had better ways to use her time than by listening to airbrains chasing butterflies. She smiled.
Airbrains chasing butterflies
was a phrase her mother often used.

Aly resumed her walk. "Maybe Mother was more right about such things than I thought," she murmured.

"What such things?" asked Trick.

"Oh—the way those fools were talking, and how quickly they changed their minds," Aly replied.

She could not see if the darking nodded, but she did hear its contempt when it said, "Stupid."

One of the household runners came to Aly's office, bearing a message from Chenaol. Aly's first double agent awaited her in Chenaol's private sitting room—Vitorcine, Isalena Obemaek's maid. Aly went to see her. Vitorcine paced in Chenaol's sitting room, her hands white-knuckled as she clutched a small basket. Once Aly had closed the door, Vitorcine thrust the basket at her. "I made copies of everything," she whispered as Aly leafed through the papers in the basket. "Topabaw has seen none of it."

Aly looked into the maid's worried eyes. "You know Topabaw will reward you well for information he can use against the Obemaeks. And yet you put off telling him, at the risk of your own life, to keep your masters from trouble."

Vitorcine blushed and looked away. "Lord Obemaek has been a father to me. Lady Isalena is a fine mistress. She's never hit me like some of the other ladies do." She wrung her hands. "I don't
want
to betray them, but Topabaw . . ."

A twinge of something like guilt for putting Vitorcine in such a spot pinched Aly's heart. She ignored it. She would do anything to protect the Balitangs. If that meant blackmailing the powerful Obemaek family, Aly would do so. "Is there anything else?" Aly wanted to know.

"No. Not information, but—I must report to Topabaw's man tomorrow night," Vitorcine explained. "What should I say?"

Aly had expected this. "Tell him that there is great unrest over the detention of Duke Nomru, which is true enough," she said. "The hotheads rant, but they fear Topabaw too much to act. Say also that people are afraid they will be next. Tell him you fear Lord Obemaek suspects you, and that you must be very careful until you think your master has decided you are no danger. That should fill his tiny belly for the moment."

"And Topabaw will accept that?" Vitorcine asked, her cheeks pale.

"Practice it in a mirror until you can say it convincingly," Aly told her, just as an elder who cared for Vitorcine might say it. "Topabaw has seen this kind of thing before, after all. The city will be talking of the arrest for days. You’re no good to him if your master leaves you dead in an alley somewhere. The excuse will wear thin after a time, but I trust that by then well have something else he can gnaw on."

Aly left Vitorcine to collect herself before she rejoined the other servants, and walked down the hall to her office. Stepping inside, she closed the door and whispered, "Trick?"

She felt her necklace stir. "Scared lady," Trick remarked, sticking a head up next to Aly's ear.

"She has every reason to be scared," replied Aly as she sat at her table. "Ask Feather what they're talking about."

Trick instead released itself and trickled down Aly's sarong to pool in her lap. There the darking spread to become a circle with a shiny surface. An image appeared, and with it sounds. It took a few moments for Aly to identify what she looked at, because the angle was extremely odd. She finally realized that Feather must be seated atop a cabinet, looking down at the nobles assembled in the room.

Aly raised an eyebrow, then leaned back and listened to the luarin conspirators. She was still listening when someone rapped hard on her door. "Trick," she whispered. "Sash."

Grumbling softly, the darking folded itself up so Aly could tuck it away.

"Enter," she called.

Atisa stuck in her head, grinning broadly. "Your traps have caught three more spies, Duani," she said. "Do you want to make them our spies yourself, or should one of us convince them?"

Aly got to her feet. "I shall do it," she told Atisa. "But you come and watch. I cannot be everywhere, and things are heating up." She strode down the hall in Atisa's wake, her thoughts flying in a dozen directions. As conspiracies went, she didn't think much of the luarin's, but it gave her something to work with. They might stiffen their spines if they allied themselves with the raka, though getting the two groups to agree would be a trick and a half.

That night, in the conspirators' meeting room, Aly told her companions what she had learned that day. Not once did she look at Dove or mention that Dove had been meeting with the luarin conspirators.

When Aly finished, Chenaol snorted. "That dried-up bunch of twitterpated worrymice!" she said scornfully. "They've been whispering for years, without anything to show for it."

"Maybe it's time to give them something to show," remarked Ulasim.

Quedanga spat on the floor. "Deal with luarin? I'd as soon boil my hands and head."

Aly looked at the ceiling.

"I don't think it's worth it," said Fesgao. "They do not have the best security, if our Aly could ferret them out before she'd been here so much as a week."

"And what will you do with them if we win?" Dove wanted to know. "Kill them? Kill Sarai's friends and their parents? Kill the people she studied dancing and riding with? Kill Winna and her family, and the Balitangs?"

Ysul hand-signed,
Better to be allies. Many old raka houses are gone. Not all luarin are bad luarin.

"Because I can tell you, just from reading Saren history," Dove said quietly, "once the killing between peoples who share a country begins, it is very hard to stop. The lowland whites and the K'mir tribesmen have been killing one another for centuries. The only way to avoid that fate is to decide we must live together, and then do our best to ensure that we do. We can do as Rittevon Lanman and Ludas Jimajen did when they came here, and reap a bloody harvest of our own, or we can call a halt to it."

"Easier for you than for some of us, Lady Dove," Chenaol pointed out.

Dove's eyes flashed. "I didn't say easy. I said
necessary"

The door popped open. Ochobu was there, her gray hair straggling out of its pins, sweat rolling down her face. Ulasim, closest to her, guided his mother into his chair while Chenaol poured a cup of mango juice.

Ochobu gulped it down, then said, "News from the Chain. The people of the Birafii estates are now gone, traveling over land or by ship. The crows managed to bring in some merchant galleys along with fishing boats. There is more." Her face was alight with triumph and malice. "Governor Sulion of Tongkang was found dead on his balcony this morning. He'd been shot with three crow-fletched arrows."

Aly looked down, quivering. She knew, just as surely as if he'd shouted it in her ear, that Nawat had been the archer.

"The Crown will go berserk," Fesgao said, his eyes burning. "The governor of Ikang and the governor of Tongkang killed within a week of each other? Never has such a thing happened, not after the Conquest!"

"And more," said Ochobu. "Just this last, so let me finish. The Velochiru raka on Imahyn have burned the homes of the overseer and of the family. The governor there has sent a call for more troops."

Ulasim rested a hand on her shoulder. "You're done, Mother," he said kindly. "Rest awhile. What did you do, speak with every mage on the Chain tonight?"

She glared up at him. "I'm not senile," she snapped.

Ulasim gave his crooked smile. "Ysul, will you reach the Chain mage closest to Nawat? Ask him to ask Nawat if he will take a look into the situation on Imahyn?"

Ysul nodded and left them.

Dove looked after him, then at Ulasim. "Do all the mages of the Chain know hand signs?"

Quedanga was mending a sarong. "Ysul writes the message and shows it to them. General, if we don't get atop this storm, it's going to roll straight over us," she warned. "I don't know if the god arranged it this way, or if it's just a dam bursting, but we need to take control of it."

Ulasim leaned against the wall. "We'll have a way soon to make contact with the would-be rebels among the luarin," he remarked in an even voice. "I expect more fights in the city over the next week. It seems clear enough to me that the Crown cannot control this city and the outlying islands, too. If the regents send more troops away from here, we may have an opportunity to announce ourselves—we shall see. In the meantime, Aly will continue with her work. Fesgao and I have a project or two, as have Mother and Ysul. Quedanga and Aly, make certain everyone hears of what has taken place on Tongkang and Imahyn. Chenaol—"

"Crow-fletched arrows," said the cook, who was also their armorer. "It would be easy if I had a ready supply."

"I'll ask the crows," Aly said. "I'm sure they know where they've lost feathers. Have they been bringing in Stormwing feathers from their brushes with them? Nawat asked them to before we came here."

"I find a pile of them by the kitchen well every evening," replied Chenaol. "And since we've no longer got Nawat to cut them up and use them on arrows, my girls have found a way to turn them into throwing darts and set the shafts in hilts so they become knives. Pity the beasts aren't cleaner," she mused. "The feathers would be perfect for tissue-cut raw fish, but we don't know where those feathers have been. Even after boiling I don't trust them."

"There will be more," Quedanga said. "They and the crows have been fighting all over the city. I saw the most astounding thing yesterday as I shopped. Stormwings lined up in the air wingtip to wingtip and darted at a group of crows to cut them in half."

Aly snorted, guessing the result.

"The crows split and got them on the backs and chests as they passed," Quedanga said. "One of them even managed to dump a load of dung on their queen's head."

All of them shook their heads over the audacity of crows and the frustrations of Stormwings as their group broke up. Dove waited until she and Aly were climbing the stairs to the family quarters before she made Aly stop.

"If you know what they talked about, you know I was there," she said quietly, looking up at her face. "Why didn't you tell?"

Aly shrugged. "It wasn't my secret to tell. You'll let our group know when you feel it's time." She felt the urge to add something but was not sure it would help. "Your ladyship, I know you're just thirteen and all, but—and don't bite my nose off for it—I trust your judgment more than that of some older people I know." They both knew she meant Sarai; Aly could see the awareness in Dove's eyes. "Others I might question, but I know you're not a fool. We opened the door to the luarin in there tonight, that was the important thing."

When they entered the ladies' sitting room, they found the duchess on the floor with Elsren and Petranne, telling a story, as Sarai read a book. Winnamine used her long, elegant hands as the raka storytellers did, making them form shadows on the wall that looked like figures from the tale. Rihani, Pembery, and Boulaj had sewing in their hands, but they were as entranced as the children, watching each shadow. Even Sarai spent more time watching than she did reading. Dove and Aly’sat quietly in their regular spots, Dove folding her hands in her lap, Aly taking up the sewing she kept in a basket by her chair.

The story ended. Pembery and Boulaj began to stitch as Winnamine got to her feet. Elsren was asleep, worn out by another day with Dunevon. Rihani scooped him up and waited as Petranne kissed her mother, Sarai, and Dove good night. Once the children and their nursemaid were gone, Sarai gave up even the pretense of reading.

"Winna, when will they let Nomru out?" Sarai asked. "They can't just keep him in Kanodang forever."

"I doubt it," said the duchess. "I imagine that he will be out—one way or another—by the end of the week. In the meantime, we have the eclipse party tomorrow night. Have you decided what you will wear?"

Sarai ignored this distraction. "If only we knew some men with
spine,"
she complained. "You should have heard them this afternoon, planning the great rescue of Nomru."

"I hope you discouraged them," said Winnamine. "Don't they understand they could die that way?"

Sarai smiled bitterly. "Relax, Winna. All it took was a pout from me and they were happy to give it up. I can't think much of their courage if they care more about escorting me to the Summersend Ball than they do about the life of a great noble like Nomru." Suddenly she jumped to her feet. "How can you stand it? How can we live among so many cowards?" she demanded, pacing the room, a tigress in cream silk. "To watch what they do to people—all kinds of people, not just the raka!—and say nothing, and simper, and take another stitch, and pretend the world's all lovely?"

"Because I have patience," Winnamine said quietly. "And because I like to sew."

"Patience?"
cried Sarai. "The luarin nobles haven't done anything in centuries, and they re not going to. It makes me sick. In other countries, rulers can't just do as they like. Zaimid told me Emperor Kaddar set it up so that for
anyone
to be arrested in Carthak, their accusers must give evidence before a magistrate. The magistrate has to write out a warrant for the arrest, based on proof of wrongdoing. If Duke Nomru lived in Carthak, he'd be heard, not tossed into a cell."