Daughter of the Flames (25 page)

I looked round to see his impassive mask firmly in place. “Yes,” I said as the lights and the music came closer. “The question is, what for?”

“We’ll find out soon enough.” His hand touched mine, and then fell away.

Then the carriage was on the pier, the wheels thundering hollowly across the planks. We came to a stop before the first walkway, and two Sedorne serving men sprang forward immediately and opened the door. One raised an eyebrow as he saw me, but his fellow was blank-faced as I spurned his hand and jumped down unassisted. Sorin did the same, rather more cautiously, behind me.

“If my lady would care to…” The blank-faced one trailed off as he indicated the step to the walkway. He had the same hesitant manner of speaking as the master of ceremonies, and the same slightly effeminate gestures. Were all royal servants taught to be like that? I stared at him with a faint feeling of insult. He wasn’t even carrying a dress sword.

I looked back at Sorin, and saw the faint glint of amusement in his face as he read my expression.

“This is an honour,” he murmured. “He’s indicating that we’re of high enough rank not to need overt restraint. I doubt he knows Rua tradition well enough to realize that he’s offering you insult by implying that you’re no threat.”

“You know it’s an insult,” I pointed out.

“I make it my business to know the traditions of my people,” he said. “Abheron and I are not much alike.”

“No,” I said, feeling a little jolt of fear for him. “You’re not.”

“My lady, my lord, if you would…” The second servant had composed his face and was wafting his fingers elaborately at the silk-rope bridge.

“Oh, very well,” I said peevishly. “Stop waving your hands, will you?”

I swept past him and up onto the bridge. Sorin followed me without comment, the glint of amusement still in his eye.

The walkway allowed us to walk comfortably abreast and I was grateful for Sorin’s reassuring bulk next to me. I didn’t like the sensation of having nothing but air under my feet. As the arrangement of ropes and canes swayed, I almost grabbed Sorin’s arm, but I saw that he was having to use his cane to help him balance, and didn’t want to distract him. I clutched at the rope rail instead, and was surprised to find it slightly tacky under my fingers. The fibres must have been soaked with something to make them waterproof.

I could see more clearly now the craft we were coming to. It was the largest one, at the middle of the arrangement. The centre of the boat was empty, obviously reserved for dancing. The edges of the area were teeming with beautifully dressed people, and both Rua and Sedorne servants offering wine and food. It was here that I saw the first signs of a respectably large armed presence. Gourdin – high ranking, to judge by the elaborate patterns of enamel on their armour – stood to attention at the corners of the vessel, each holding one of those heavy pikes. One wore the crested helmet of a captain. As I approached he shifted, switching his pike from one side to the other. I thought he favoured his right shoulder slightly, and made a mental note.

We reached the end of the wobbling walkway and stepped down onto the craft. As my feet settled on the herb-strewn deck, there was a sudden loud burst of music from the musicians. This must have been a prearranged signal, because everyone on board instantly turned and applauded our entrance, while they stared at us in curiosity and amazement.

In the midst of the noise and confusion, Abheron appeared.

He stalked across the deserted area in the middle of the boat like a creature of the shadows, his black doublet shimmering with an abstract pattern worked in hundreds of tiny moonstones. His hair shone golden red, braided with more moonstones and the odd glitter of diamonds. A long tear-shaped diamond hung from his left ear. He looked magnificent. The crowd around him fell silent instantly, as did the musicians.

“Welcome!” he cried, spreading his hands wide. I saw the black glove on his left hand and shivered. That was the one thing I hadn’t been able to bring myself to tell Sorin about. Somehow it made Abheron and me too alike, as if we were linked for ever by the same pain, marked by the same tragedy. I didn’t like that feeling.

“Welcome, welcome!” He came to a stop before us, and looked at us expectantly. We looked back at him.

“If you’re waiting for us to bow, you’ll wait a long time,” Sorin said quietly.

Abheron arched a brow, conveying amused patience, then laughed loudly for the benefit of the watchers.

“Zahira and Sorin, my dear niece and cousin. Now that you’re here, the true entertainment can begin.” He clapped his hands and the musicians struck up a new tune. It was slow and rather beautiful, and horribly familiar. I could remember my mother humming it.

“My guests of honour must open this ball with a dance. If you will consent to accompany me, my dear, I will provide a delightful partner for your husband.”

As he spoke, a woman detached herself from the crowd and came forward. She was clad in a grey dress decorated with mother-of-pearl discs, her pale hair shining through a smoky gemmed veil, and elaborate jet and pearl beads dangling at her ears. The dark, exaggerated lines painted around her eyes and the bright red of her lips changed her features so much that I did not recognize her until I felt Sorin stiffen beside me.

“Hello, Anca,” he said expressionlessly. “I see you’ve come up in the world.”

Anca
.

I stared at her in disbelief. The woman who had taught me my wedding vows; the woman who had giggled and argued over my dress; the woman who had served me all this time…

“And you have fallen somewhat, my lord,” she said primly as she executed a flawless curtsy. “Luckily some of us still have loyalty to our own people.”

“Anca is a dear friend of mine,” Abheron said. “She will suit your husband admirably, I think.”

In the shock of dawning comprehension I let him take my arm and lead me unresistingly out into the centre of the craft. The crowd watched us in silence, the lap of water and the low, sad music filling the air.
Anca…

I came to myself with a start when Abheron turned to face me and placed one gloved hand on my hip, clasping my fingers with the other. I pulled back instinctively, but he tightened his grip on my hand, halting the movement.

“Stay with me, Zahira,” he said. “You wouldn’t want to make a scene in front of all these people, would you?”

I heard the subtle threat and reluctantly complied, allowing him to pull me into motion.

One day you’ll dance, your hair all braided with pearls and jewels, and all the lords and casadors will fight to be your partner.

Oh, Indira. You didn’t know what you were saying…

“No wonder you found out about our plans,” I said bitterly. “You had a traitor in our inner circle.”

“Traitor?” He tutted, a picture of injured innocence. “Harsh words against your faithful servant. She was only there to take care of you, which she did superbly, judging by your appearance at the wedding. I only wish I had been able to spare her this evening. What on earth have you done to your hair?”

He lifted his gloved hand from my waist to touch one of the wild curls. I jerked my head away and saw, for an instant, that pulse of darkness at the back of his eyes. Then it was gone, and he replaced his hand at my waist. I could feel the weight of the metal framework inside the glove pressing into my skin.

“You should have worn the dress I sent you,” he said, as if nothing had happened. “I can’t imagine what you intended with this bizarre raiment. You look like a savage.”

“I look like what I am,” I said. “Rua.”

“Half Rua,” he corrected. “Never forget that, Zahira. Like those lovely blue eyes you inherited, your Sedorne blood is dominant.”

“What do you hope to achieve by all this?” I demanded, sick of his verbal fencing.

“Why, nothing. I only wish to give you a glimpse of the life you will enjoy once you become my heir.”

I treated that with the contempt it deserved. “Whatever you’ve got planned, it won’t work, Abheron. I won’t give you what you want.”

He tugged on my arm and guided me into a whirling movement. “Do you like this dance?” he said inconsequentially. “I find it quite refreshing.”

“You’re a monster!”

“Yes. I am. But I am still your uncle, Zahira. Flesh of your flesh, blood of your blood. Your only family. And you will do what I want, in the end.”

I heard feminine laughter behind me, and tore my gaze from Abheron. Sorin was dancing with the still laughing Anca, his movements completely lacking their normal grace as he allowed her to steer him across the floor. Where was his cane? How much of that jerkiness was due to his struggle with his legs, and how much to emotion? As they turned, I saw that his face was set in the blank Sedorne mask. What had Anca said?

I looked back at my uncle. “If you hurt him—” I began.

He patted my hip, intending to soothe. Instead I flinched as the sharp edge of one of his metal fingers pinched my flesh. “Nothing will be done without your knowledge,” he said. “I’ve already told you that. You can trust me.”

I looked at his earnest expression. He meant it. He really thought he was being reasonable and kind. He would keep his word – for now.

But what would happen when he realized he’d never get what he wanted from me?

The sad music ended. Abheron and I came to a stop in the moment of quiet. Then the musicians began playing again, this time a quick, lively tune. The guests on the sidelines surged forward onto the dance floor, flowing around us like a multicoloured river. Abheron released me at once, stepping back into the crowd and, with that unexpected speed that had unnerved me so much earlier, disappeared.

I made my way off the dance floor to an unoccupied corner of the flat boat and scanned the crowd for Sorin. I spotted him attempting to remove Anca’s fingers from his cane as she leaned towards him, speaking persuasively. He yanked the piece of black wood away and turned his back on her without answering and, catching sight of me, began to struggle through the crowd. Behind him, Anca met my eyes. Her smug expression wavered and she gave a helpless gesture with her shoulders and turned away.

“What was she saying?” I asked as Sorin reached me.

“She was trying to persuade me to divorce you,” he said rather breathlessly, leaning on his cane. “It seems Abheron told her that we’re only a threat to him if we’re together – and that she’d be a strong candidate for a replacement wife. She doesn’t know about his plan to get rid of me completely.”

“How did she manage to get into the fort?” I asked, trying to keep my voice free of reproach. “I thought you said you knew everyone there.”

“Anca came with letters of recommendation from a very old and trusted friend of mine.”

“Forgeries?”

“No. The letters were real. Unfortunately they were stolen from the real Anca en route to Mesgao. The poor girl was disposed of and this one sent in her place. Apparently there’s enough of a resemblance that Vittoria, who knew the real Anca when they were children, was convinced, and vouched for her too.”

“So carefully planned,” I whispered. “He must have been desperate to get someone into the fort.”

“Yes.” Sorin looked at me. “He wants you very badly, doesn’t he?”

I nodded, managing a smile that felt horribly twisted on my face. “He thinks I can save his soul.”

We looked at each other hopelessly, in our bubble of quiet. Then I glanced away, searching for something to distract myself.

“Is it normal to be ignored like this?” I asked. Despite the fact that this was supposed to be a ball in our honour, not one person had attempted to approach us. People weren’t even looking in our direction. It was as if we weren’t there.

Sorin made a sound that was half sigh, half laugh. “They can feel a storm coming, and they’re taking shelter as best they can. Ten years with Abheron for a king has made people very sensitive.”

I sighed, then tensed at a noise by my elbow. I turned to see a Rua servant waiting humbly at my side. The man bowed deeply and wordlessly – the bow of a subject to his reia – and then held out a tall golden goblet. I accepted it with some surprise and watched him disappear into the crowd again.

“I hope no one saw,” I said. “It could get him into trouble.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t think of that,” Sorin said thoughtfully. He took the goblet from me and stared into it, then pulled something white from the cup. “I think this is for you.”

I took it from his hand. It was a white canthus blossom, freshly picked, its tiny petals just opening into their starburst pattern. White canthus was the sign of the royal house of Elfenesh, symbolizing peace.

And hope.

“A message?” I whispered. “From whom?”

“I don’t know; maybe it means we’re not as alone here as we thought.” He took the flower from me and tucked it into the hair over my ear.

There was another loud blare of music and I jumped. The guests, obviously better informed than me, immediately began filing away from the food and the dancing area, forming orderly lines as they streamed onto the walkways away from the central vessel.

“What’s happening now?” I muttered.

Before Sorin could answer, I sensed a presence behind me and turned to see the gourdin captain I had noticed earlier, and another, lower-ranking gourdin, waiting on the deck. They nodded respectfully at us.

“His Majesty is going to make his announcement now,” the captain said. “He wishes you to join him.”

I glanced quickly at Sorin, and saw the sudden tension that he was fighting to hide. What was Abheron going to announce? He gave both of the soldiers a long look, and then nodded.

“Very well. Lead on.”

The captain, blank-faced, stepped back and indicated that we were to precede him and his silent colleague.

We went where the gourdin wanted, moving deeper into the drifting pattern of boats as we crossed walkways and smaller, empty craft. Finally we stepped onto the vessel where everyone else had gathered. It was the furthest boat in the arrangement, at the peak of the outer half-circle. Beyond it, the water, trees and mountains blended into solid darkness. The craft was rectangular in shape and almost as large as the central one where we had danced, with a double-peaked gold canopy from which dozens of lanterns hung. The guests parted for us without protest as we came to a halt in the middle, the guards still at our back.