Fire of the Soul (28 page)

“I’ll wager that Sir Mallory is one of the
false friends,” Lady Elgida said, “which makes him a danger to my
grandsons.”

“I believe that’s true.” Ilona expelled a
long breath. “Your previous comments told me that you already knew
most of what I’ve said.”

“Where does Queen Laisren fit into this
puzzle?” Calia asked, her thoughts on the stone box hidden in her
baggage.

“Hers is a dynastic marriage that was
intended to guarantee peace between Chandelar and Kantia,” Ilona
said. “Unhappily for both husband and wife, Laisren possesses great
Power, while King Dyfrig inherited no Power at all. I believe he’s
jealous of her.”

“If she were to give him an heir, he’d likely
be grateful instead of jealous,” Lady Elgida remarked dryly. “Does
he suspect her of avoiding a queen’s first duty by employing her
Power to deny him what every king wants and needs: the certainty
that his blood line will survive into the next generation?”

Ilona looked startled; then she smiled. “You
are wise, my lady. I have wondered about that, too. I’ve heard
whispers among the queen’s other ladies. Some question whether she
is more loyal to Chandelar, or to Kantia.

“Please, don’t repeat our words where the
house servants or anyone at court can hear. I don’t want Euric to
be accused of disloyalty. I only said as much as I did because I
could see how concerned you are about Belai and Kinen. Since you
plan to request guardianship of them, you will need to understand
how Dyfrig’s court functions. The king’s men are divided into the
two factions I have described, while the queen stands separate from
her husband and the nobles.”

“Thank you for telling me this. I promise
that none of us will so much as hint at what we’ve learned from
you.” Lady Elgida gave both Calia and Mairne a stern, repressive
look. “Ilona, I trust you intend to include this information in the
report you will make to Durand as soon as you leave this
cottage.”

“Oh, my lady,” Ilona said with a chuckle, “I
do believe you and I are going to become great friends.”

Calia knew she had little hope of gaining a
private audience with Queen Laisren. Therefore, she decided, she
would have to carry the stone box with her that evening and try to
find a moment in which to pass it to the queen. Failing that, she’d
have to depend on Ilona to maneuver her into close proximity to the
queen at some later date.

While Lady Elgida was bathing in the separate
chamber with Mairne in attendance, Calia sorted through the
contents of the wicker hamper that held her clothing. Only one gown
of plain blue wool was made with a pocket hidden in the heavy folds
of the skirt and it was far from grand enough for an appearance at
court. But then, the other two gowns she had packed were hardly
more luxurious. She took out the stone box and slipped it into the
pocket of the blue gown.

She did own one garment suitable for use at
any court. A large shawl made of soft fabric that was said to come
from the lands far east of the Dominion, it glowed in shades of
deep blue, wine red, and a remarkable, brilliant green. Calia’s
nurse had given it to her just before she died, telling Calia that
she had been wrapped into it when her mother, Lady Casilde, had
handed her over to the nurse. When Walderon arrived years later to
take Calia to Catherstone, she had remembered to add the shawl to
her small pile of belongings.

The shawl lay at the very bottom of the
hamper. Calia lifted it out, smoothed the wide fringe, and held the
shawl against the blue gown. She decided she would drape it over
her shoulder and use the folds of it to conceal the slight bulge
made by the hidden box.

“That looks very pretty,” Lady Elgida
remarked as she returned from her bath. “Those lustrous colors
against the deep blue – yes, I think you will be properly dressed
in that combination.”

“So do I.” Calia laid the gown and the shawl
into the hamper, closed the lid, and went to take her own bath.

King Dyfrig of Kantia lacked the strong,
dignified presence that Calia expected to find in a king. In fact,
she thought with an inward sigh of disappointment, Dyfrig looked
remarkably like the houses in his capital city. He was tall and
thin, with a long, sorrowful face. His red hair was so sparse that
he’d likely soon be bald. His straggly beard and the bags beneath
his pale eyes reminded Calia of the flower boxes she’d seen under
every window, with their downward trailing vines. Every line of the
king’s face and figure drooped and his plain grey robes emphasized
his somber aspect. His ornate gold crown appeared much too weighty
for so dejected a figure to bear. Calia wondered if Dyfrig ever
smiled.

In contrast, Queen Laisren, who was robed in
deep red, glowed with health and beauty. As tall as her husband and
equally slender, her abundant, dark brown hair shimmered with
golden and reddish lights, and with tinges of darker, deeper
shades. Every time Laisren moved her head, her hair shifted upon
her shoulders and changed color. The narrow gold crown on her brow
could not begin to confine or control that glowing, swirling,
ever-changing mass. Laisren’s eyes were deep blue, the same cobalt
of the northern seas. Her skin blushed with the warmth of a rare,
pink pearl.

In her exquisite person Laisren captured all
the elegance and allure – and all the magic – that a queen ought to
possess. Garit and Durand, who were both experienced men, stared at
her as if wondering whether she was human or not. Clearly, the
Queen of Kantia dazzled all who beheld her. Calia had expected no
less of the daughter of the Great Mage Ultan and she smiled,
pleased by what she saw.

“My lord king.” Ilona curtsied low, keeping
her head bowed until one of Dyfrig’s nobles, a dark, bulky man,
left the king’s side and came forward to raise her by one elbow.
When Ilona clasped his hand and smiled at him in a familiar manner,
Calia knew the noble was Lord Euric.

“Lady Ilona, who are these strangers?” the
king demanded in a fretful voice.

“They arrived unexpectedly at midday, after a
most adventurous voyage from Sapaudia,” Ilona responded. “You may
remember my brother, Lord Durand, who was formally presented to you
during an earlier visit. I believe you also know Lord Garit, who
was your late brother’s emissary to Sapaudia.” She went on until
all of the party with her had been presented. Dyfrig appeared to
hear only one name.

“Garit of Kinath,” the king repeated,
frowning at him.

“Sir, I am now known as Lord Garit of
Auremont.”

“But he was born Garit of Kinath,” Lady
Elgida said, stepping forward to face the king directly. “That is
why we are here, King Dyfrig. I understand that you have designated
my grandson, Belai, as lord of Kinath. Garit has the better claim
to the title.”

“Lord Garit has not lived in Kantia for many
years,” said Queen Laisren. Her voice was sweet as warm honey and
at the sound of it all eyes turned toward her. All, save her
husband’s eyes. Dyfrig was still frowning at Garit.

“That is true, my lady,” Garit said. “I hold
Castle Auremont in Sapaudia, which I earned by my own efforts. My
life is there now. I have no desire to hold Kinath. Belai is
welcome to it.”

“King Dyfrig, I believe my grandsons to be in
danger of their lives,” Lady Elgida declared.

She had warned Calia of what she intended to
do and of the response she would most likely engender. Even so,
Calia was appalled by the way the courtiers smirked and whispered
among themselves at the effrontery of the elderly lady who stood so
boldly before their rulers. Hearing the snickers and some of the
sarcastic remarks they made about interlopers and foreigners, Calia
began to understand why Lady Elgida disliked the Kantians.

“How can the boys be in danger when they are
under my protection?” Queen Laisren asked.

“King Dyfrig,” Lady Elgida went on,
undeterred by the queen’s remark or by the titters of the
courtiers, “I came to Kerun to petition you to make Garit the
official guardian of Belai and Kinen. I am forced to admit that at
my age I cannot attend personally to their manly training. Garit
can. Sir, I implore you to remove them from Sir Mallory’s care and
give them to Garit, who is their blood kin.”

“Their mother is their nearest blood kin and
she has offered no objection to Mallory’s appointment as their
guardian,” the king said. “Therefore, I see no reason to make the
change you have requested. You and your friends have my leave to
retire from this assembly.”

“King Dyfrig!” Calia cried as he turned away
from Lady Elgida with a grimace of distaste. She felt she had to
aid Lady Elgida’s effort, for she owed much to that good lady. “Do
you know who Sir Mallory is?”

“He is my loyal friend. Who are you?” The
king glared his irritation at the woman who would not obey his
order to depart.

“I am Mallory’s half-sister,” Calia declared
in a loud, clear voice. “Our father was Walderon of Catherstone,
who was executed three years ago for treason against King Henryk of
Sapaudia. After our father’s death Mallory fled to exile at your
court.”

She paid no heed to the gasps from the
courtiers. She had expected them to be shocked by her words. But
she had thought the king would be shocked, too, and in that
assumption she was mistaken.

“Not all of my early adherents were men with
spotless pasts. Did your brother commit treason against King
Henryk?” King Dyfrig demanded.

“I have no sure proof that he did,” Calia
admitted, “but I do know what he told me just a few days ago at
Kinath. He intends to become lord of Kinath. Sir, you and I both
know the only way that Mallory can accede to that title is if both
Belai and Kinen are dead. My brother is a cruel, heartless man. He
will not hesitate to kill two young boys in order to attain an
honor and a title he craves.”

“When I made Mallory the guardian of those
boys,” King Dyfrig told her, “he swore to keep them safe.”

“Mallory swears falsely as easily as he
breathes,” Calia said. “He cares for no one save himself, and for
nothing but his personal advancement.”

“Lady, your words betray your own blood kin.
Why should I believe a disloyal sister? Be gone from my court, you
and Lady Elgida, and your companions with you. Euric, escort your
wife home and see that she stays there for the next three
days.”

“Yes, my lord.” Euric bowed low. “Come,
Ilona.”

“King Dyfrig, you must hear us!” Lady Elgida
cried. “Mallory is
not
your friend and the lives of two
little boys are at stake.”

The king did not respond; instead, he turned
his back on Lady Elgida and began speaking to a group of noblemen.
At this sign of royal displeasure the whispers and mocking laughter
of the courtiers increased in volume.

Calia was so frustrated that she was close to
tears.

“Queen Laisren,” she said, venturing two
steps closer to that lady and speaking just loud enough for the
queen to hear her, but not the king. “Ultan sent me,” she mouthed
when the queen glanced at her in surprise at her defiance.

The queen shook her head and bent to whisper
something to one of her ladies.

King Dyfrig’s guards advanced on them, to
accompany them out of the palace. Calia sent one last, imploring
look in the queen’s direction. Laisren did not appear to
notice.

With the guards surrounding them, they were
led down a long flight of stairs. They were almost at the large,
double doors of the main entrance when a young woman in noble robes
appeared. Calia recognized her as the lady to whom the queen had
been whispering.

“I am Sundaria of Chandelar,” the woman said.
“Queen Laisren would speak with Calia and with Lord Durand.”

“Certainly not,” Lady Elgida exclaimed. “Not
without me.”

“Please, my lady, go with Ilona,” Calia
begged. “I’ll rejoin you later. I won’t be alone. Durand will be
with me.”

She had intercepted the meaningful look
exchanged by Garit and Durand at Sundaria’s words and had guessed
that Durand wished to speak with the queen in private. She didn’t
know what Durand’s mission in Kantia was and at the moment she
didn’t much care. All that mattered to her was that Durand’s secret
activities would offer her the opportunity she needed to hand over
the box that bumped against her hip every time she moved.

“Come along, Grandmother.” Garit seized Lady
Elgida by one arm and nearly dragged her through the palace door.
“We can depend upon Durand to keep Calia safe,” he added with a
look at his friend that plainly said he’d better do exactly
that.

The room to which Sundaria conducted them was
an antechamber so small that Calia guessed it was the place where
the queen received unimportant visitors or, perhaps, tradespeople.
Two narrow windows looked out to the Western Hills, with the orange
and yellow flowers that grew in the window boxes illuminated by the
setting sun. On the opposite wall from the windows a flowery
tapestry hung. The other walls were plain white. A single wooden
chair on a little dais was the only furniture.

Laisren wasn’t sitting in the chair. She
stood alone near the windows, with the golden light of evening
shining on her face and her remarkable hair. When she turned her
head at Sundaria’s entrance, the gems in her crown glittered.

“Here they are, my lady.” Sundaria made only
a sketchy curtsey, the smallest possible bending of her knees.
“Shall I leave or stay?” she asked in a way that told Calia the two
women were close friends.

“Remain here.” Laisren gestured and Sundaria
moved to stand at her queen’s right side and a little behind
her.

Calia noticed out of the corner of her eye
that Durand was bowing, so she curtsied. She was barely upright
again before Laisren spoke, going directly to the issue that was
uppermost in Calia’s mind.