Aurelia (9 page)

robert laughed, moving quickly forward and climbing up on the painted white boards beside her. "He's not impressed with you, your Highness."

she bent her head toward robert and shook it, releasing a cloud of hay into his face. "That's only because he has yet to take the time to get to know me." As robert waved away the cloud, she glared at him. "And it's Aurelia, not your Highness, to him and to you."

"Aurelia." His voice softened as he reached to remove a final strand of green from behind her ear.

"Ahem." The sound of a man clearing his throat startled robert into almost toppling from his perch. drew Fielding, dressed entirely in shiny black satin, stood in the shadow of a tall beam. His black boots rested on the dusty floor and his head remained higher than the heads of both companions perched on the stall boards. White teeth gleamed in a wide grin. "glad to see you, lad. you're just who we've been waiting to talk with."

robert struggled to regain his composure. "Have you?"

"sure. I'm here to collect." drew stepped forward, holding out a hand to Horizon. "Tell us about this horse. He can't have been bred around here." The stallion sniffed the horseman's fingers and jerked away.

robert slid a hand over Horizon's cold nose and warm forehead. "No, but his mother was."

"Fantasia!" Aurelia exclaimed, referring to the bay's fine-boned mother. "Father gave her to the Vantauges upon the family's departure from the palace." pounding on the stall boards in triumph, she turned to drew. "I told you he was part ours. Look at his head. No wonder it's similar to bianca's. They both have the same dam."

"Bianca?" robert inquired, rubbing the smooth black hair on Horizon's forelock.

"my mare," Aurelia said. "she has the same slender head, but she isn't the rebel your fellow is."

"The rebelliousness comes from his father," robert explained. "my mother nursed a trapper through pneumonia, and he gave us a wild red horse in thanks. The trapper claimed the red was a pure geordian desert stallion, won in a gambling match. my father never believed the story. The horse didn't live long, tangled a leg in a barbed-wire fence after siring his only colt.

"Horizon has never been as reckless as his sire," robert continued, dropping his palm to the stallion's red-brown cheek, then snatching away his hand as the horse snapped sideways with large teeth, "but there are times when I believe he must be descended from desert horses."
The shrill whistle of a challenge when Horizon met another stallion, the ease with which he broke loose from the paddock during a brushfire, the way he ran in the fields without cramping or sweating.
"He's never been exactly tame."

directing his next words to drew, robert said, "I was hoping you could tell me more about him."

"you mean you were hoping I could prove that trapper's story somehow by looking at this horse." drew chuckled. "Truth is, I can't disprove it, which is saying something. Whoever the sire was, he wasn't bred around the capital. I've heard about the horses in the geordian, but I don't know what to believe. They're said to be swift, with terrific stamina as well as racing speed. desert tribesmen don't share their horsemanship outside the region. If this fellow is an example of one of those horses, I may have to plan a trip there myself. He's something. Have you run him on a course?"

robert shook his head. "I've never raced competitively, and I don't trust him with other riders. He goes well when I need him. I've never been beaten when I wanted to outrun someone."

"I'd like to see him on the palace racecourse," drew stated, running his hand in a smooth stroke down the stallion's graceful neck. "Just to time you on him at a dead run, no other horses around. Trained jockey or not, it would give us an idea if he's got real racing speed."

robert shrugged his shoulders. "I don't have time to spend riding around an arena right now."

"Oh, come on, robert," Aurelia teased. "If you've got time to waste watching a council meeting, you ought to give this fellow a real run." she stretched a hand toward the stallion, and Horizon snorted in her face.

"you only want me to do this because you're a stronger jockey, and you want to embarrass me on the racecourse," robert accused.

Aurelia plucked a rope halter off the wall and twirled the loose end. "What's the worst that could happen? He could throw you, but with that hard head of yours, you'd be no worse off."

robert stared her down. "I have other priorities right now. If and when those are resolved, I'll think about your suggestion." The twirling rope came to a halt, and he regretted using the word
if
.

"speaking of priorities," drew said, breaking the stillness, "if you'd still like to visit that scarred stallion, I've found a way for you to manage it."

"you have access to elise's stables?" Aurelia's face lit up. "How are we getting in?"

"Oh no," robert said, "you're not going. I don't want you near that horse. plus you'd hardly go unnoticed. A change of clothes won't be enough to keep your identity secret around that place."

she slapped the halter back on its hook and leaped onto the ground. Crossing her arms over her chest, she glared up at robert. "I suppose I could gain access through the front gate."

"No." He jumped down in front of her. "If you arrive with an entourage, that team of horses might disappear." Her chin jutted, and he could hear air rush into her nostrils; but she did not argue. robert turned to drew. "When do we go?"

Wrinkles creased the horseman's forehead, and his eyes ran back and forth between the two young people. "Tonight," he replied.

Chapter Eight

DEPTH

AURELIA MADE Her WAY TOWARD THE LIBRARY AT the back of the palace. she hoped to arm herself with a novel for the coming night's insomnia. It was not fair, she thought, that robert could go investigate tonight and she was left to battle the terrors of her own imagination. A cold draft gusted down the open hallway, and she wrapped her arms around her chest to stave off the chill. This original section of the palace with its barren walls and ceilings was impossible to keep warm. To her surprise, the library door stood open. No one except her father and her ever came here.

"Father?" Aurelia peered through the door into the dim corner of the library. The patterns of colored glass in the lone window kept out most of the afternoon light. A gray head turned toward the door, then turned back, bending low along an overflowing bookshelf. The figure's weary eyes and strained face muscles did indeed belong to her father.

"yes." The word came out in a muffled response as he shuffled through layers of sewn book covers.

"I . . . I'm surprised to see you here," she stuttered.

He sighed. "I admit I haven't come here in the last several months. I always know I am in trouble when I am too busy to read."

"I could return later if you would like to be left alone." she edged away, her reason for coming paling beside the memory of the morning's confrontation.

"No." He tugged a thick book from a shelf and straightened to face her. "We should discuss the council meeting."

she lifted her head and stepped forward. "I'm sorry for speaking out of turn, but my opinion is as valid as anyone's."

"Not when you disrespect your stepmother," he answered.

Arguing with him about elise's merits was fruitless. Aurelia groaned inwardly, sinking into a dark chair with a curved back. The scents of dust and leather clung to the furniture. A silver lamp with a hollow wick sat on the table at her side, and she stared into the glowing glass tube.

Lately she felt as though she could not reach her father, as if an invisible wall stood between them. perhaps now, without others in the background, she could bring down that wall. she took the opportunity to tell him about the protest in the market two days before. "The guards should be reprimanded," she finished.

"Their rush to action could have sparked injury or even death."

The king set his chosen book down beside the lamp and rubbed his forehead. "The guards may have acted too soon, but they acted on behalf of your welfare. Could you not try to avoid such explosive situations for a while?"

For the first time, Aurelia realized the cause for the guards' overprotective behavior. They had feared another assassination attempt. she blushed, ashamed of not connecting the events earlier. "do you still intend to enforce the market tax?" she asked. "Or does knowing it will harm the vendors change your mind?"

He sank down in a chair beside hers. "I did not make this choice without thinking it through. The kingdom cannot run without funds, and the sellers in the marketplace gain as much as anyone when people come to town for a royal function."

she had not thought of that. "but what about the people's argument for having a voice in the process? maybe you could invite a city leader to the palace council meetings."

"I have considered it, Aurelia, but unlike you, I am not anxious to discard years of tradition. such a change will have results neither you nor I can predict."

"The results might be positive." she stood up. "besides, Tyralt is changing. With the settling of the frontier and the growing number of schools, the people have more opportunities than in the past. They don't need a lord or a stone wall to protect them from danger. They can make their own decisions and own their own land. They can travel to other parts of the kingdom, and choose their own type of work."

she thought about robert's parents and how they had given up the ease of palace life to forge their own home. she thought about the hope she had seen on the faces of her former classmates as they scaled the front steps of the university. she thought about her own dreams. And pushed them aside. Her voice was firm. "The council should adapt to those changes."

The king lifted his hand. "When you are queen, you may see that it does."

she hated the idea of her future resting on his death.
How will I know what to do,
she thought,
if you never allow me to make decisions? What if I fail and cannot ask for advice because you are gone?
"I want to help people and effect change now. I'm tired of feeling powerless. before you became king, didn't it frustrate you to have to wait to have a say?"

"If you want to lead, then you must show the patience required, Aurelia. being a leader is more about compromise than making choices." He dropped his eyes down to his book.

"yes, Father." she struggled with what to say next. she wanted to talk to him about the plot on her life, to have him hold her and tell her things would be all right, that he would protect her. Her father--the man who had lost his son and his wife in less than a month; the man who had spent a year in grief, out of reach from even his three-year-old daughter; the man who had married again and started a new life and did not want anything or anyone to interfere with that life. she would find no safety and comfort there. His method of dealing with pain was to pretend it did not exist.

Her gaze drifted to a stack of books on the nearby table.
Relationships of Power, Royal Unions, Marriage Contracts.
In horror, her eyes flew to the leather cover in his hands:
Historical Alliances.
"you're researching my marriage!" she accused.

He looked up from the book, startled. "Would you rather I didn't?" he said. "Would you prefer I toss you out the door with the next man who comes calling, regardless of the impact the union will have? Honestly, Aurelia. you claim you want power, but you refuse to take any responsibility for finding yourself a husband."

she sputtered in anger. "responsibility? What responsibility? you're going to decide who I should marry."

"Of course. you can't make such a vital decision." His voice deepened. "The future welfare of the kingdom depends on the match you make. you know this, Aurelia. stop behaving like a child. you've been no help at all. In fact, you seem determined to disrupt the entire process."

"I'm not allowed to decide who I'm to marry, but you think I should support the process?" Her palms clenched into fists. she could feel the heat flaring in her cheeks and her blood pulsing through her veins.

He slammed the book shut. "yes. Already I've had to explain your behavior to the men you have turned down. perhaps they were not the best choices, but you might at least have made your refusals seem reluctant. every time you offend one, you make it harder for me to find a husband for you who can improve the political future of Tyralt."

"good," she snapped.

His eyes rolled, and he confronted her with the ultimate blow. "you are just like your mother." The statement clung to the air, and she felt the invisible wall spring back up between them.

The Tyralian wall faded in the background as robert headed west. drew rode at his side without speaking, leaving the sound of horse hooves to click away the final moments of the dusk. massive tree trunks lined the northern edge of the Western road. slanting branches with shiny green tips crowded the air with the strong scent of fir. On the left, cleared farmland with fields of tiny strawberry plants and thick berry hedges gave way to gentle slopes.

"remember, lad." drew broke the silence. "No one comes on midbury land without an invitation. We're going there at the word of a friend of mine, and far as he knows, we're there to see a colt. Nothing else." The horseman paused, perhaps waiting for robert to explain the real reason behind the long evening journey, but no such explanation was forthcoming. drew knew more than enough already.

After more than an hour's travel, the two riders turned north on to a dirt road cutting into the kryshan Forest. Inky blackness soaked the air, and robert guided his mount along the road's edge. He had no wish to fall into the path of a carriage along this route. "How far are we from the queen's estate?" he asked as he dodged the threat of a low-hanging branch.

"you're on it, lad. Have been since we turned off the main road. Coming up on the center of the place now." drew gestured forward.

A thick wall stood amid the trees, its height matching that of the palace's outer wall. This gate was closed, though, and the guard looked stern. robert was glad to let drew explain the purpose of their entry. The horseman did not mention the colt, only the name of a friend who was expecting him. The guard grunted and motioned for another man to slip loose the latch and swing open the heavy iron gates. drew and robert rode through.

buildings sprouting chimneys like horns loomed out of the night. gargoyles seemed to hiss from the eaves of an old manor house, and a new manor towered against clouds of darkness. ragged tree limbs guarded a tangle of crossing paths, and at the heart of the estate stood the famed midbury stables.

After dismounting, robert tied Horizon to a hitching post. Then he stepped through the wide stable doors and felt his jaw drop. row upon row of unending stalls stretched out before him, each corridor brilliantly lit despite the late hour. The dirt aisles had been swept clean, and the smell of fresh hay muffled even the scent of manure.

To his right, an open door revealed a tack room the size of a small barn. He drifted toward it, staring in awe at the perfect slanting rows of bridles and halters organized by size. blankets, cleaned and folded, covered two shelves, and on the remaining shelves sat no fewer than two dozen saddles: every type, every size, every shade. He felt his stomach fall out from under him.

drew gripped robert's shirt and tugged, then headed down a long aisle flanked by stalls on either side. "No need to make it obvious you've never been here before," drew stated. "stick close. The queen's first husband turned this place into a cursed labyrinth."

"He built it?"

"designed it. The man was a famous architect, designed projects everywhere, including newer sections of the palace. made the stables his project after melony was born. Wanted to stay close to his daughter. didn't work out, though. Came down with a fever and died only a few months later. The queen watched over the final construction."

A small man sitting on an overturned bucket blocked one side of the aisle. Aged fingers brushed a bridle with a dark cloth. "Hey, Harvey." drew pulled robert to a halt beside the man. "Thanks for letting us in to see your new colt."

Harvey looked up from his work, wrinkles splitting into a wide smile. "What I'd like to know is how you knew that colt was bein' brought in tonight. you're the only bloke I know would travel two hours to get here and two hours back in pitch dark to see a horse."

"I wouldn't bet on that." drew clapped the older man's shoulder. "I reckon you've done a few crazy things in your life for the love of a horse."

Harvey chuckled. "more than a few, but, seriously, how did you find out about this colt? edward of Anthone went through a lot of trouble to get him here, and he had us pretty cowed into keepin' mum."

"I was lucky." drew lifted his hand. "The lad has been pestering me with questions about desert horses. I started doing research, and a fellow down by the docks let slip you lot were collecting a real desert colt this very night. I couldn't turn down the opportunity, and I'm real pleased you allowed robert to come."

"What edward don't know won't hurt him." Harvey grinned.

"speaking of edward," robert said, "why is he stabling this colt here instead of at the palace?"

"I suspect it's because desert horses aren't supposed to be bred outside the geordian," Harvey replied. "Horse breeders been fightin' for years to get rights to geordian horses, but treaty granted tribes all resources within their territory. Tribes in the Anthone portion give their reignin' monarchs each a horse, but only if all offsprin' are returned to the tribe. I reckon edward didn't want it whispered about he's broken treaty."

Harvey lowered his voice. "I try to keep my nose out of the politics. We've got horses from every country in the region. A geordian desert colt, though, that's somethin' I never thought I'd see in my lifetime."

"Listen, Harvey, I didn't mean to disrupt your work." drew looked over at robert. "seeing as we've got a minute before the colt arrives, I'd like to show the lad around. It's not every day a horseman gets to see a setup the scale of midbury."

Harvey chuckled. "show him around. Just act like you belong, and nobody will give you a hard time."

robert followed drew past dozens of nickering horses until Harvey's form faded in the background. Then, after turning down a corridor as vast as the first but in this case stabling teams, drew continued another twenty-five yards and pointed to his left.

Six black horses.
robert picked out the lead stallion right away, and it picked him out as well. None of the other horses in the stables had responded to his presence with more than an outstretched neck; but this stallion snorted, shook his head, and raced to the back of his stall.

"Not too fond of visitors, that one," drew said.

A chill tingled robert's jaw. Wild eyes rolled in his direction. The black head lifted; neck muscles strained. The stallion rushed the boards, lifting his deep chest and pounding the rattling wood with the same powerful forelegs that had haunted robert's dreams. dust billowed from the stall door, and thudding echoed down the walkway, drawing the attention of stable hands.

robert backed away, pulling drew with him clear around the corner.

"myself, now," teased drew, "I'd pick about any other horse in this stable for laying down my money." robert ignored the comment. In the back of his mind, he had not really believed the horses would be here, not the same team from Carnival night, not that scarred stallion. "That was him?" prompted the horseman.

robert nodded, reality sinking in. "Is there a way to find out who drove him two nights ago?"