Authors: Tamora Pierce
"As have Rosamma and I," said Countess Tomang.
"Lehart, I have never thought you overburdened with sense." Baron Engan looked dry and frail, but he did not sound it. "But even you must perceive that they dare not offend us—and there
are
far more of us in the outlying estates, who won't be meeting with Imajane. They need us if they mean to survive."
"If you please, my lord Obemaek," Aly said politely. "My palace sources say that His Majesty—"
"Faugh!" interrupted Nuritin.
Aly bowed to her. "His Majesty keeps Her Majesty under constant watch.
She
is the uncertain element. He has told his people they must bring her orders to him. He also understands that his power base is shaky. For the present he grips the reins. My sources tell me nothing sinister is planned for tomorrow morning."
"I find it hard to have faith in intelligence garnered by a young woman, and a foreigner at that," Genore Tomang announced with a sniff. Matters between her and the Balitangs were stiff, Sarai's insult still raw, but the Tomangs were still willing members of the conspiracy. They had been heavily taxed for the third year in a row as one of the wealthiest families in the Isles.
"I could make myself up as a raka man, if that will appease you, my lady," Aly offered. "I think it would be a waste of my time, but I live to serve in any small way that I can."
Even Duke Nomrus mouth twitched at that. "Stop it, Genore," he told the countess. "Have you forgotten this young foreigner brought about the fall of Topabaw?"
"So we are told," said the countess.
"So we
know,"
Ulasim said flatly.
"So I know," Dove added, soft-voiced.
Her comment brought silence. Many of the luarin conspirators still were not quite sure what to do about their future queen, though Nomru, Engan, and Qeshi addressed her as an equal, as did Winnamine and Nuritin.
Aly sat back as Quedanga began to pass on what her people had gathered. Aly did not want to tell the luarin conspirators that Imajane and Rubinyan had taken to walking in the gardens at night, out of earshot of her darkings and well away from any of the raka spies. It could be something as basic as Rubinyan wanting to calm his excitable wife and to reinforce their affection after the problem of Lady Edunata. They could also be deliberately discussing plans someplace where it would be hard for a spy to hide, and where it would mean death for the mage who put a listening spell there. Aly could not be sure.
In any case, Aly wanted their party to be ready for everything. The breakfast with Imajane was to be held in the Jade Pavilion. Breaking out of the main palace enclosure in an emergency would be easy enough. Some of Fesgao's people would enter the grounds in the morning, driving wagons of foodstuffs through the Gate of Carts. Dorilize and Pembery would remain at home, allowing warriors Jimarn and Junai to play at being ladies' maids. They had the crows to interfere if the rulers planned treachery. And Fesgao would come, disguised as a footman, bearing a small gift for the new queen from the Balitangs. He knew where the Haiming Tunnel was, the secret exit from the palace that had allowed Dove's forebears to escape with their lives. The rebels hoped those precautions would be enough to keep Dove safe.
The luarin conspirators left at last. Aly looked for signs of the darkings she had placed with them but found none. She didn't expect to. Some days they journeyed with their people to Balitang House, but they also spent much of the time exploring their new homes and reporting to Trick. They had understood when Aly told them to watch for spies in the conspirators' household as well as traitors among the nobles.
Dove waited in Aly's workroom, glancing at her maps. "I feel so useless," Dove complained. "It seems like all anyone will let me do is look promising. All this important work is being done, and you won't even let me visit Dockmarket anymore."
"I know, and I am sorry, but the risk is too great," Aly told her. "It's a bad idea to remind Their New Majesties how popular you are, particularly since they can no longer use a marriage to Dunevon as a leash on you. Though if anything happens to Imajane, Rubinyan might come to your door with a gift of flowers."
Dove grimaced. "I'd as soon sleep with a ribbon snake," she told Aly. "Not that I think I'll be offered the marriage. We're nearly ready to move, aren't we?"
"Nearly, yes. As ready as anyone can be in a fix like this,"
Aly said. "The night before the day of the solar eclipse. They might expect something the day of the eclipse, and certainly they expect trouble on their coronation day."
"And while everyone else does something real, I get to be protected," said Dove bitterly.
Aly put an arm around Dove's shoulders. "If all goes well, you'll have the hardest task," she said quietly. "Bringing a country together. Making sure your reign isn't marked by bloodletting, which should be an agreeable change around here. It's a scary task, but you have good people to advise you—Her Grace, Lady Nuritin, Ulasim, Fesgao, Ochobu—"
Dove looked up at her. "Will I have you?"
Aly blinked at her. You should have expected this, her brain clamored, seeking a quick answer. You should have had your story all prepared. Lie, idiot, lie! Tell her you'll be there! You've lied millions of times, so do it now!
Dove pulled away from Aly's arm. "That's what I thought," she said, and left the room.
Aly started to follow, and stopped. Catching up to Dove would only work if she were ready to lie, and she wasn't. She couldn't. Not about this. If she survived, and she wasn't entirely certain that she would, she had to go home. The daughter of Tortall's spymaster had no business so close to the Kyprin throne.
By late afternoon people were bringing news of the crows' latest rampage through the skies over Rajmuat. Aly listened to the reports with admiration and envy. Nawat and his friends had sprinkled Crown officials and soldiers with urine and dung. They attacked soldiers at the checkpoints as the men inspected carts and saddlebags, using their claws and beaks and, as a last insult, more dung. Any shop that carried the emblem of supplier to the Crown—something that was no longer a guarantee of more business—soon had a doorstep piled with crow dung, and no customers. The crows drove them away.
At supper she was picking at her food, thinking about information, when a very warm presence thumped onto the bench next to her. A man's hard thigh pressed hers. She looked up into Nawat's eyes.
"You forgot about me," he told her, shaking his head. "My heart is broken forevermore."
Startled, Aly pulled back, then recognized the twinkle in his deep-set eyes. "You're
teasing
me again," she said, outraged. "And I could hardly forget you, with all the ruckus you stirred up today."
"You are no longer the one who does all the tormenting," Nawat informed her, reaching across her for a bowl of rice. She forgot what she was about to say in the brush of his arm against her breasts. Warmth flooded her veins. Nawat looked into her face and smiled as he slowly brought the rice bowl over to his plate. "I have learned to torment, too."
You have indeed, she thought, tearing a piece of bread in half.
Others came to sit with them, applauding the latest behavior of the crows. Aly listened with a smile, shaking her head, without forgetting Nawat's warmth against her side.
She excused herself, her meal half-eaten, and clambered out from between Nawat and Junai. Nawat smiled up at her and continued his conversation with Chenaol.
Aly met with some of her spies and their recruits after supper, taking in the day's reports. The wider they spread their net, the more information she had to sift for nuggets of real worth. These nuggets were what she wrote out and handed to the other rebels in the house. Once the humans were gone, Trick and Secret passed on their most recent gleanings from the palace and the homes of the luarin conspirators.
This is why Da spends his days at a desk, Aly told herself as she worked. It's why he jumps at the chance to meet with an agent. Because sooner or later all you can do is review information and pass it on to those who will use it.
At least when I'm done for the day, I have Nawat, she thought. Suddenly the night ahead looked much brighter.
When they rose before dawn to train with the warriors, Nawat made sure to kiss Aly thoroughly once more before they left the Pavilion of Secrets. They had both agreed not to show too much affection for one another before their fellow conspirators. Neither wished to be accused of not paying attention, Nawat because he had discovered he enjoyed command over his human warriors as much as that over the crows, and Aly because so much depended on the rebels seeing her as reliable. "Another day," Nawat said, looking up at the pearl gray sky. The moon was veiled by the colorlessness of the sky. Only the Trickster sparks continued to show, winking on and off, never the same color or in the same position twice. Kyprioth continued to hold his own.
"My kin will be in the air to watch over you today," Nawat said as they walked toward the stable yard where everyone practiced. "And my warriors and I will be near, at the edge of the jungle."
Aly smiled up at him. "I love you," she replied. "If you get yourself killed, I will be very unhappy with you."
Nawat grinned. "I have loved you since I became a man, or even before that," he reminded her. "You must try to stay out of trouble, too."
Between breakfast and the summons to court, the house was bustling. Aly put on fresh clothes in the dressing room off Dove's chambers. Boulaj added the finishing touches on Dove's appearance as Aly emerged with her hair combed and tucked under a sober headcloth. Boulaj winked at her over Dove's head.
"Why do you always wear that same old bead necklace?" Dove wanted to know. "I have dozens that are prettier that I never wear."
Aly heard a muffled squeak from the double bead on her right shoulder. She stroked the darkings quiet with a smile. "They have sentimental value for me, my lady," she explained. "If you'll excuse me ..."
She trotted downstairs, ignoring the outraged squeaks from her necklace.
Outside she reviewed the guard chosen to escort the ladies. Fesgao had assembled twenty men-at-arms in livery. Half were armed with spears and short swords, half with swords and the shield-stick called a tonfa, a good weapon for trapping an enemy's blade by edge or point. Some members of Aly's pack and their recruits lounged near the gate. They would range out along the streets, watching for potential trouble as the Balitang ladies rode. The soldiers of the King's Watch would be vexed at so heavy a guard for an ordinary palace ride, but there had been unrest in the city, and the Balitangs were not about to tell them that they distrusted Crown troops more than Downwind rioters.
As their party moved out, Aly walked on the side of Dove's horse closer to the double ring of guards. Boulaj walked on the inside. Fesgao, in a footman's livery, walked just ahead of Nuritin's and Winnamine's mounts, the small wooden box that held their gift for Imajane under one arm. He stood just behind the corporal who was supposedly in command of the men-at-arms. When he gave the signal, their company moved out, the wagon with the ladies' court dresses bringing up the rear.
It was still early enough for traffic to be light. They soon joined other ladies on their way to the palace. Aly watched the crowds. It made her uneasy to see this many people outside, all paying attention to the noblewomen as they negotiated their way past the soldiers' checkpoints along Rittevon' s Lance. They were everywhere, in the windows and on the roofs that gave them a view of the ladies. Of Dove.
Go away! Aly thought. Go home, go to work! Stop drawing attention to us!
Shrieks sounded overhead. The crows had come to play with the Stormwings. They arrived in hordes, scattering the immortals as they darted among them. The Stormwings shot toward the relative safety of the distant palace, the crows in pursuit.
When they reached the green belt outside the palace, Aly gave an internal sigh of relief. She'd never thought she'd be so happy to see those streams full of meat-eating fish. Crossing a bridge, she looked off to the side, but the water was too murky to allow her a view of them. Was it possible they were still full from the feast of dead mages, families, and guards? Or had the poison that killed the humans also killed the fish? She didn't have time to see for certain as their party moved on.
As before, their men-at-arms parted from them inside the Gate of Victory while the ladies and their maids rode to the Robing Pavilion to change. When Aly bent to place the wooden box with their riding dresses against a wall, her darking necklace dropped from her neck onto its lid. Trick and Secret nodded to Aly, then dripped into the shadow. They were off to make contact with the other palace darkings.
Once the ladies set forth for the Jade Pavilion, Aly followed at a distance like any disinterested servant on a stroll, careful to step off the garden paths when other noblewomen passed. Aly turned at the edge of the Lily Water and wandered into the shelter of a familiar-looking willow. As she had suspected, Taybur Sibigat sat on the hidden bench. He put his finger to his lips for silence, then rose and walked off down a lesser path, back into the gardens. Aly waited for a party of ladies to go by, then followed him.
He led her to a semicircle of hedges that framed another bench, affording a view of the water and some black swans as they glided by. There were spells here, but not for listening. They would damp the sounds made around the bench, luarin version of the spells that guarded Balitang House from eavesdroppers.
"It's safe to speak here," he told her, digging his hands into his breeches pockets as his mail jingled. "Not that I've much to say. I have to swear my allegiance in blood on the day they are officially crowned, you know. All of the Guard must. Those who wish to stay."
Aly looked up at him. "You're certain the ship was tampered with?"
He nodded. "Plenty of good ships went down in that storm, but only after the winds and waves knocked them about for a while. The crew didn't even have time to furl all the sails before the
Rittevon
crumpled like rice paper."