Moth and Spark (30 page)

Cina looked around, then said in a low but intense voice, “What are you doing, Tam? You’re going to disgrace both of us.”

“Then many of the women in this room are also disgraceful. I’m not doing anything I should not be doing.”

“That is not so, as you well know. It’s wholly improper. And imprudent. You’re being taken advantage of.”

“So I’m a fool and he’s a selfish knave?” She restrained herself from saying what Corin would think of that; it would only make things worse.

“No,” Cina said patiently. “But you’re young, Tam, you’re not acquainted with the ways of the world. Or with the ways of the court. You’re beautiful, of course he wants you. That means you have to be all
the more careful. One dance is enough. Three is far too many. If this continues I shall have to tell Efan.”

Tam had had this conversation so many times in her head that she had no trouble controlling her temper. “Cina, I know you are trying to do your duty by me, and for me. And I grant that with any other man you would be right. But not this time.”

“If you don’t stop people will think he means to take you to bed after the ball, you don’t have a chance at anything else. Give it up before you’re ruined.”

It’s too late for that, she thought. Fortunately it stayed behind her lips. “Cina, please. Leave it for tonight and let him talk to you tomorrow. You can write to my brother after that if you still need to.” She had hoped not to have to involve Corin. It was hardly fair to Cina, who was only doing as she had promised she would, and it was a burden on him. But she did not know what other choice she had.

“Why ever would he talk to me? I don’t hold him accountable for flirting.”

“Because it’s not flirting. I’ve dined with him several times already.”

“Tam, how far has this gone?”

She should tell her what Aram had said. It was too difficult. “Far enough to know he’s not going to seduce me and leave me. He’s been scrupulous.”

“You’re very sure of yourself.”

“I’m very sure of him.”

Cina looked at her, hard. “Did he give you that necklace? It’s not paste, is it?”

“It’s a loan,” Tam said. She could not keep herself from continuing. “From the queen.”

“The
queen
?”

“Yes. She offered it.”

Cina was not a person who fidgeted, put her hands out of place, showed nervousness of any sort. She did not do anything of the kind now. Her face was still, composed. She said, “Tam, be careful. Love can be a will-o’-the-wisp for the best of men. You’ve no future with him. I’ll give you one day. If I’m not satisfied with what I hear by this time tomorrow, I will write to Efan, or send you home. You aren’t a fool, but you’re doing a very foolish thing.” She stood up.

Tam hardly heard what came after Cina said her brother’s name.
Instead her mind was full with a sudden image of a Mycenean ship docking in the dark night and soldiers descending the ramps, swords out. Lantern light broke and reformed on the waves. She was sure it was true. It would have frightened her if she had not been so concerned for Efan. “Cina, wait,” she said hastily, rising.

“What else is there?”

“Write to him now. Tell him to leave Dele.” She realized she was holding her wrist. Nothing hurt, but her body remembered the tray at the fair.

Cina stepped closer and lowered her voice. Tam had to lean in to hear it over the music and talk. “What do you mean?”

“Please. It’s the war. It will come there, he has to get out.”
Ten thousand soldiers sailing for Dele.
When Corin told her that last night it had slipped by, one detail in a much larger story. Now it had lodged itself in her mind forever.

“The king didn’t say—” Cina stopped. “You know something else.”

“Yes.”

“Have you lost your mind, both of you? Even if he’s telling, you should not be listening.”

At another time Tam might have laughed. “No. I’ll explain everything tomorrow, I promise, or he will. It’s all right that I know. Just tell Efan to leave. Please.”

“And how am I supposed to post anything this time of night?”

Tam was sure Corin could arrange it, but she also could not imagine using a royal messenger for her own purposes. And certainly not if part of the letter was telling Efan to come and whisk Tam away home before she did something indecent. Then she realized she should think more of her brother’s safety than her own pride. “I’ll get it sent as soon as you write it,” she said. “Say whatever you must about me, but convince him to leave.”

Cina gave her another long hard look. “I don’t want you to ask any more favors of him. I’ll post it in the morning. What I said about one day still stands.”

Tam nodded. She would tell Corin anyway, and if there was any real danger he would take care of it. It was not worth arguing over. She had no intention of losing to Cina, but there was no point in having the battle here. Cina knew it too, and smiled cordially at her. There must be no sign of a row. They exchanged sisterly kisses on the cheek. Tam
expected Cina to step on her foot, but she did not. The parting was the very model of amity.

Another dance had started when Corin finally reappeared with wine, a rare clear greenish-gold. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I was waylaid several times. I hope it’s adequate, it’s the best that’s up there. Will you give me the next one?”

“No, you have to buy it.”

“Can I pay you later?”

She laughed. “There will be interest owing on that.”

“I have plenty of interest,” he said, with a look that came perilously close to a leer. “May I also ask you to pretend to be lovestruck?”

“It would make for livelier gossip if you are lovestruck and I am cold,” she said. “But I’d rather bore them.” They clinked glasses together. It was good wine, headier than she was used to. “I talked to Cina. Or, I should say, she talked to me.”

“With what result?”

“She threatened to send me home if I don’t break it off by tomorrow evening. I’m only here at her behest, I have to do what she says if I want to stay within my family. Which I do. I’m afraid I said you would talk to her.”

“Of course. And nicely, I promise. Tomorrow.”

“Corin—my brother—is Dele safe?”

“For now. Does he have the wit to know when to get out or will he be as stubborn as you?”

“Probably stubborn.” She was anxious, but she did not want to tell him about the vision, if that was what it was, here.

“I’m hardly going to command him out with force, but I will be sure he knows all he ought. Do—” He broke off. At first she thought he had decided not to say something, then realized he had gone alert, tense as a hunting dog waiting to be loosed.

She watched the dance. Jenet was still with Darrin, her fair hair darkened at the brow with sweat. They had better set the wedding date soon from the looks of them. Tam put her hand lightly on Corin’s wrist, and he looked at her, his face focusing with a swiftness that was almost frightening.

“Do noble marriages still need to be approved?” she asked.

“Yes, though they always are. Why?”

“Darrin and Jenet, there—he was going to propose tonight.”

“They look happy with each other,” he said. “They’re both handsome enough. Is there a problem?”

“He bores her.”

“Ah,” Corin said. “Do you think it’s incurable?”

“Not if it’s caught early,” she answered, thinking she sounded like her father. “But she’s far too shy to tell him. I don’t know if he can figure it out himself.”

“Well, that’s certainly no reason to deny the wedding. But I can try to enlighten him now if you’d like.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Why not? A little royal advice never hurt a man.”

“On marriage, from
you
?”

“There is that,” he said, laughing. “I concede I lack qualifications there. Maybe it will be up to you to put some backbone in her.” He finished his wine and set the glass down, pulled her up. “I see Mattan. Let’s go give him his dance and be done with it.” He took Tam’s arm in the precisely correct manner and led her to the duke’s side.

“I understand a dance is owed you, Mattan,” he said.

“I believe that was the agreement,” Mattan answered.

The men looked at each other. Tam was afraid they might actually row. Then Corin said, “Enjoy yourselves,” and dropped her arm. She handed him her glass.

When they could talk under the cover of the music, Mattan said, “I see now why I didn’t rate. Well, you were certainly tactful about it.”

“There is no easy way to tell a man that he doesn’t dance well enough,” she said.

A silent measure. He said, “You almost had me believing that was the reason. You’re very good.”

“No,” she said, considering it. She wanted to speak seriously to him. “It’s easy to fool people who don’t know you, and even easier when they are thinking about themselves. They don’t really listen. No one here actually cares very much what I say, so they take it for granted it’s true. I’m sorry, I don’t mean you, my lord.” She should just sew her lips together.

“And how, Tam—I may still call you Tam, mayn’t I—how does a woman as young and ladylike as you become acquainted with that very worldly knowledge? It is not part of making an accomplished woman that I ever heard of.”

“It is the most necessary part. If a woman said what she really thought or felt, men would scatter in all directions.”

“And what do women really think of men?”

Which was not what she had meant. But she would leave it there. “That they are vain, thoughtless, giddy creatures who need someone to take care of them.”

He laughed. “I take your point.”

“Will you believe me when I say I didn’t mean to deceive you?”

“I should have guessed,” he said. “When the most beautiful woman in the room is turning away even dukes and the prince is dancing with his sister, there are no other likely explanations. I hope I said nothing to offend you.”

“Nothing.”

“Thank goodness for that. But I think I will take no more chances and concentrate on dancing for a while.”

“It never hurts to improve,” she said.

He was in fact a good dancer, though he faltered once near the end, recovering before she lost the beat, and she enjoyed it. When the music stopped, they were far up the floor from where they had begun, and he walked her back to Corin’s side. Corin put his arm around her. It felt tender, not possessive. The publicness of it surprised her.

Mattan said simply, “Thank you.” He looked at Corin, hesitated, spoke in a quiet rushed voice. “Corin, ’ware Arnet. He was watching my lady.”

Corin’s arm tightened about her. “Is there more?” She could tell that he was forcing himself to be calm.

“No, my lord.” Mattan took Tam’s hand and kissed it, then made an almost formal bow. To Corin, not to her. Tam was abruptly aware of how much power Corin had.

Corin nodded tightly, a dismissal. He turned. “Come outside a moment with me, love,” he said. He was still strained.

She followed him through a room filled with food-laden tables and out a door onto a balcony. There were other people on it. They all moved away, leaving them one end. Below in the courtyard a couple was arguing. The word “again” came clearly up. The night air was cool. Moonlight silvered the wall opposite them.

He leaned his forehead against hers. In a more ordinary voice, he said, “I’ve been a fool. You were right this afternoon to remind me
that you don’t know who to trust. I should not have come with you. I have made you enemies. They will do everything they can to use you against me.”

It seemed absurd. She knew he meant it, but she could not imagine what could happen. She leaned into him. He kissed her hair, but it was absent. Plainly he was thinking about something else.

“What could they do?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Nothing direct. They’re all under watch.” He put his hands on the railing and looked upward. His hands were still but not clenched. He leaned closer to her and said, “Arnet likely killed Cade. We’ll never be able to prove it, though, not without someone else pointing a very convincing finger. But he’s quite dangerous. And if he’s watching you, he is planning something to Hadon’s benefit.”

“I think he’s the man I saw in the courtyard,” she said. “I couldn’t swear to it, though.” Even if she could, it would only prove Alina had dropped something.

“I doubt you’ll need to,” he said. “It’s the woman we need. Perhaps I’ll have her questioned.” His tone was unconvinced.

“She’s terrified of him,” Tam said, remembering Alina’s face that afternoon. “He hurts her. Can’t you arrest him as a spy?”

“For taking pay from my own liege lord?”

She felt naïve. For all that Corin had told her, she did not think as he did. Below them, the young man of the couple swore and walked away; the woman stood with her hands to her face, her shoulders shaking. Corin said, abruptly, “Tell me what my father said to you that night.”

It startled her. He was wanting a certainty she could not give him. “He said you were going to need me.”

“I do,” he said. “Tam, be careful. Please.”

“I promise,” she said.

He said nothing for a while. The ballroom was a roar of mingled noises behind them. She smelled honeysuckle. At last he spoke. “You mustn’t tell anyone this. I need your word. It’s the only thing you don’t know yet.”

What could it be? “I won’t.”

“Hadon holds Tai hostage. He took her six days ago.”

She felt sick. He had been carrying the weight of his sister’s captivity all this time. No wonder he was worried about her. She put her hand on his arm. It was rigid.

He said, the most despairing she had ever heard him, “I’m trapped here, Tam. Helpless. The dragons want me, but I can’t do anything while Hadon has my sister.”

There it was, the knot between his ordinary life and the world he had been thrust into. The rules had changed. She said, “Talk to the dragons. Tell them that delays you.”

“What can they do? If they could free Tai they would not be bound themselves.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t know what binds them. You don’t know what power they have. You don’t know what power you have. You need to learn what they gave you, and you need to find out what they still can give you. You’re going to kill yourself if you try to do this alone.” She did not know where the words came from, what part of her could have any insight about dragons. But she knew he had to hear them.