Tricksters Queen (6 page)

Nawat cracked a nut by slamming it on the counter. Everyone turned to stare at him. "Are we done with all the scoldings?" he wanted to know, his face as open as always. "Because I wish to know what use I will be in this oversized, befouled nest you call a city. I could see plain enough when I came. You have more arrow makers here than you will need." At home in Tanair, he had made arrows with special fletchings, arrows that would kill mages and arrows that flew straight despite the wind.

"But there is need for the crows," Chenaol said.

"No," replied Nawat flatly. "You have your human crows in the palace and the city and the households, picking up whatever news they have. My people cannot enter houses, and there is very little food for us here. We are here to win our wager with the god, not to sit about preening ourselves." He glanced into Aly's upturned face and away. "I am here to do more than preen myself."

Ulasim nodded. "He has a point," the big raka admitted. "At Tanair the crows were our watchers and patrols."

"We'll find something for him to do," Aly said impatiently. The thought that Nawat might leave made her chest go tight. "Gods help us, we only arrived today."

No one else commented. Nawat was considered to be under Aly's command. The rebel commander had agreed that winter to make their subordinates and work areas separate for the most part, though they would share any news and special requests at the nightly meetings. On occasion some areas might need to work with different ones, but those cases would be determined as they arose. It was a rebel's way to fight, rather than the way a government would do things. If the Crown captured some of them, the rest of the movement would still be able to continue the rebellion.

Aly looked at Ulasim. She knew it was pathetic to change the subject to get rid of that tight feeling near her heart, but what she had to say
was
important. "In the meantime, may we
now
bring Sarai and Dove in on this? The country is trembling on the sword's edge—we could all feel it on the way here. It's the girls' destiny at play."

Ochobu made a face. "To risk all on the discretion of a pair of girls . . . Not yet."

"I agree," Ulasim replied. "At least, not as regards Lady Sarai's discretion."

Someone rapped on the door. It could not be a stranger to the household, since the servant s wing was kept under watch. Ulasim stood to open the door and admitted Dove.

"Sorry," she said, finding a vacant chair. "It was hard to get away from my chess game. I had to let Aunt Nuritin win. I'll never hear the end of it now."

Ochobu glared at her son. "You could have said she knows."

Aly hid a grin as the big footman shrugged. "She came to me after supper to tell
me,”
he explained to his mother. "It seemed only reasonable to ask her to come here."

"It's so obvious Petranne could see it," Dove said wearily. "The way the raka watched us all the way to Tanair and back, the crows, a household with all the servants but Aly who are raka full and part-bloods, servants who used to work for the Temaidas. . . . My mother belonged to some branch of the Haiming clan, didn't she? A small one that escaped the luarin's eyes. It explains a great deal."

Fesgao smiled at her. "You are right, my lady, it does."

"The timing makes sense," Dove continued. "We have only two people with a claim to the Rittevon throne left. Dunevon is a child; his regents make Stormwings look tenderhearted. But do you mean to kill Elsren? Because Sarai and I will never permit that."

"We shall ford that river when we come to it, my lady," Ochobu said. "For the present we gather allies, identify our enemies, and look for the regents' weaknesses. There is unrest all over the Isles. It will be war by summer's end."

"Then don't tell Sarai or Winna," Dove advised. "It's quite possible Winna will have Elsren swear a blood oath not to try for the throne. She hates it at court." Dove looked around at the raka's faces. "You
were
going to tell Winnamine, weren't you? Or is she supposed to die in the fighting?"

"We have made no decision in that area, either, my lady," Fesgao said with grave respect. "Many things must take place before we shall be forced to consider such choices."

Dove leaned back in her chair. "Tell me," she ordered.

Aly watched as the raka straightened, new life and purpose in their eyes, even Ochobu's. One after another they explained how things stood. Doves arrival had given them something real to look at. She might have been only their future queen's little sister, but she had the same blood in her veins and the same quick wits.

When they had finished, Dove massaged her temples. "It's so much bigger than I could have imagined," she murmured. They all waited for what she would say next. Finally Dove took a deep breath and asked, "Have we a symbol? Some ordinary thing, so the common people and the middle classes will know that our country is changing?"

She's good, thought Aly with appreciation. Right to the heart of the matter. I hope Sarai does half as well.

"A symbol?" inquired Fesgao. "Like a kudarung?"

Dove shook her head. "Something more subtle. Something that looks like a message, that can be put in places where officials won't notice it."

"Something to shake the regents up," murmured Aly.

"If the regents are shaken up," Fesgao pointed out, "they will not take it kindly, I warn you."

"No, I suppose not," Dove acknowledged. "But they're already behaving stupidly. I saw all the new checkpoints in the city. It's the way the Crown chooses to deal with mindless hooligans. You know what the luarin nobility says—the raka get restless every thirty years, and have to be kicked down. We need to tell them this is no clump of restless raka. This is a movement."

"If we make the regents angry," Chenaol said, "they will slam our folk with more laws, more taxes."

"More arrests," added Fesgao. "More punishments. More executions."

"They cannot arrest what they cannot find," Nawat pointed out. "When the People, animals, claim a territory and drive rivals from it, they mark it. What if you find a way to mark your territory for all to recognize?"

Ulasim rubbed his neck as if it ached. "Please do not tell me we must go out and piss on every street corner," he said, a faintly pleading note in his voice.

"Then only the People will know it is your territory, not the Crown," Nawat replied reasonably.

"A symbol," Dove told them. "Scratched into plaster, written on a proclamation that's been nailed up, dug in the dirt, painted on a door or a shutter. Something easy—"

"An open shackle with a few links of chain attached," suggested Chenaol eagerly. "For freedom."

"Harmless enough," Ulasim admitted slowly. "Easy to spread, easy to set folk talking." He looked at Dove. "We'll do it."

"Aly?" Dove whispered in the darkness of her bedroom. Junai was still downstairs with her father.

Aly had not been asleep. She'd been expecting this. "We'll go outside. There's a pavilion the mages fixed in the garden. It's shielded from just about everything inside the walls as well as outside."

Dove and Aly wrapped themselves in robes and padded downstairs. Once outside, Aly led her mistress to the open-sided building where she had talked to Nawat. The girls sat for a moment on the couch, enjoying the cool, damp spring breeze.

At last Dove looked at Aly. "I wish you had told me."

"In all honor, I couldn't," Aly explained. "They expected me to keep my silence, and it is
their
plot. I am a newcomer."

"But the raka, the people not of our household, they know, or they guess," Dove pointed out. "It's why they always turn out to see Sarai and me. Not because our mother was raka, but because they believe Sarai is the promised queen." She rubbed her mouth with her thumb. "I'm surprised the regents haven't tried to kill us already."

"It will come," Aly’said. "If they know their business, they will try nothing in the confines of the palace. They'll try in the city, if they can't get inside these walls—"

"And they cant," Dove interrupted, her words half a question.

Aly considered this. At last she said, "Not without a frontal assault, I think. And on the city streets... The raka have been planning this rebellion for decades. We have more allies on the streets than the regents suspect. Naturally, I'm going to do my best to make sure of what they suspect and what they don't."

"Alone?" Dove asked.

"Now you're fishing," Aly said, not in the least alarmed. "I have help, and that's all you need to know for the present. When exactly did you put it together?"

Dove began to braid a lock of her hair. "Around Midwinter, I think. Oh, Sarai and I knew the raka believed Sarai might be the promised queen before that, but it took me some weeks penned up in Tanair to see that there was an actual conspiracy among our upper servants, not the usual mutterings of hotheads. Here in the city, it's even more plain."

Aly looked aside for a moment, to do the mind trick that allowed her Sight to work better in the dark. She wanted to see the expression on Dove's face. The younger girl seemed composed, but a corner of her mouth quivered.

It is one thing to guess, and another to
know,
Aly reflected. She's starting to see the cost in blood.

"I
have
been trying to steer them away from a massacre," Aly ’said, deliberately adopting the tone of an elderly aunt who had convinced the children to behave. "And they have been listening. Even Ochobu, who hates the luarin more than the rest, sees that there's no profit in killing all the full-bloods, let alone anyone who's a part-blood."

"I feel so much better," commented Dove.

"And so you should," Aly replied comfortably, "seeing as how their queen candidate is a part-blood herself."

Dove laughed in spite of herself. "So the luarin's future is just a tiny obstacle, not cause for a bloodbath. You are an optimist."

"I do have a happy nature," Aly replied. "It is often remarked upon." More soberly, she added, "It will be easier with you knowing. They'll listen to you."

"But you and I need to sort out a few things, Aly," Dove told her. "The god you serve isn't really Mithros." She did not say it as a question.

Aly winced. "Urn..." she said, her brain racing. She had warned the raka conspirators that Dove was sharp.

"Why would my dear brother care what happens to the raka?" Kyprioth winked into view on the bench opposite them. He lay sidelong on it, his head propped on his hand. His usual motley assembly of jewels, brooches, and charms glittered in the light he cast. "And could we use actual names as little as possible? None of us will rejoice if we catch my family's attention, believe me." He smiled cheerfully at Dove. "Hello, little bird. I'm Kyprioth."

Aly had forgotten the god's effect on those with raka blood. Dove slid out of her chair and onto her knees, where she bowed so deeply her forehead touched the floor. Despite her awe, she muttered to Aly, "We are in
such
trouble."

"Nonsense," said Kyprioth. "We are getting
out
of trouble. Do sit up. You're distressing Aly."

Dove met his eyes. "There are probably dragons who don't distress Aly. Weren't you banished, or some such thing?"

Aly grinned and relaxed. Dove would let no one walk over her, not even a god.

"Details," said Kyprioth, waving away Dove's question. "A mere fluctuation of the balance of power in this part of the world. It's time to amend that."

"Don't you think you should be talking to my sister, then?" inquired Dove, very matter-of-fact for a girl on her knees. "She's the one the people love."

"I need you
both"
Kyprioth retorted. "She will be charming no matter what. We can leave her to make worshippers of this city. But you, my calculating dear, must be convinced." He threw up his hands. "Question away."

"Actually, your appearance answered the last of my questions, for the time being," Dove told him. "I always was puzzled that your great brother would choose Aly to speak for him. But she's been speaking for you. As
your
choice, she's absolutely perfect."

"Thank you, I think," Aly murmured.

Dove glanced at her. Aly noted the quiver of a barely concealed smile on the younger girl's lips before Dove returned her attention to the god. "You also explain the crows, since they've always been as much your children as the raka. One thing you
don’t
explain, though. What happens when someone
does
attract your brother's attention?"

Kyprioth tapped his toe for a moment before he answered. "I will need all the victories my people can gain, to give me the strength to defeat my divine brother and sister. As the raka succeed, so will I."

"And if your brother and sister return early from their little war on the far side of the world, our collective sheep are roasted." Aly inspected her nails.

"Don't say things like that," retorted Kyprioth. "Whose messenger are you?"

Aly smiled brightly at the god who had been making her life interesting for the past year. "Sarai's," she told him. "Dove's. The duchess's. The raka's. And on down through a great, long, complicated list that ends with you."

"I'm hurt," protested the god. "After all I've done for you, giving you proper scope for your talents."

Dove cocked her head to one side. "For a follower, she's very rude."

"I wasn't even his follower. I was his conscript," Aly told her young mistress. "He press-ganged me from a dreadful pirate ship." She sniffed for effect.

"You may thank me later," Kyprioth said cheerfully. "If you're alive." He vanished.

Dove tried to rise from her knees and squeaked. She had gone stiff. Aly helped her to her feet, then back to the couch, where Dove slumped with a grateful sigh. "Does he come and go like that all the time?"

"Only when he thinks he's losing the argument," said Aly. Lips surrounded by a short, bristly beard brushed her cheek in a kiss.

Behind them Aly heard a tapping sound. She released the sheath for one of the wrist knives she wore even when she slept. The tapping approached Dove from behind. Suddenly a small, young, winged horse, known in the Isles as a kudarung, jumped up into Dove's robed lap.