Dragonfly (19 page)

"But she'll do very well now as she's fortunate enough to have the best doctor in Brigard to look after her."

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"And the most modest," Tashi slipped in, keeping her face straight.

"I'll carry her to this commander of yours," said Gordoc, cutting through the difficulties with his usual clear-sightedness. He wrapped Tashi in a blanket and picked her up. "Lead on."

Melletin guided them through the maze of wooden pathways connecting the camp. The ground was so wet it would soon turn into a quagmire without the boards, he explained. Professor Norling tagged along behind the party, still muttering about doctors never being listened to or respected in this uncivilized hole.

The commander resided in a tent double the size of the others, divided into several rooms. Melletin showed them into the first of these, the public area, and then disappeared through a flap to inform his leader of their arrival.

Ramil began to feel nervous. It was all very well persuading a patrol by force to take them in, but how would the commander look upon their presence? It surely wouldn't have escaped his attention that Fergox would be ripping Brigard apart to find the two fugitives.

A man of medium height and heavy build pushed the flap aside and strode into the room. Dressed smartly in the same green and brown colors of his patrol, he had curly dark-red hair and a hooked nose. No one could look into his face and make the mistake that here was a man to mess with. He gave a perfunctory bow.

"Prince Ramil ac Burinholt, Princess Taoshira, welcome to Brigard," he said, taking a chair behind a table. "Please be seated." Melletin came in with some

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camp stools and set them on the rugs in front of the commander's desk.

Professor Norling bustled forward. "Your Grace, my patient cannot perch on that thing. She needs a proper chair at the very least."

The man rose and picked up his own chair, bringing it round to Tashi.

"Will that do, Tadex?" he asked, taking a stool for himself.

Norling nodded and retired with his professional dignity intact to the pile of cushions at the side of the chamber. Gordoc placed Tashi in the chair, then stood behind her, arms folded.

"Thank you for your welcome, sir," said Ramil, taking his seat. "May we know who addresses us?"

"I am Nerul ac Mollinder, the Duke of Brigard, one of the last surviving members of the ruling family."

Ramil stood up and bowed. "Your Grace, I am honored to meet you. We thought your family had been wiped out by the Spearthrower."

Nerul spat at the mention of Fergox. "The last duke, my uncle, and his sons were killed in battle. My mother and father were hanged on the battlements of our castle in Mollinder when the occupier rode in to enjoy his triumph. The rest of my relatives are either dead or slaves. Only my brother and I slipped through the net like two of our fenland eels."

"I grieve for the old duke and your family. My father always spoke most highly of him," said Ramil.

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A slim red-haired man entered from the private quarters carrying a roll of parchment. From the strong resemblance between the two men, Ramil

guessed this was the younger brother, but whereas Nerul gave the

impression of authority and strength, this man was handsome and elegant, his movements graceful--the courtier to the commander.

"My brother, Merl ac Mollinder," Nerul said in a businesslike tone.

Merl bowed, inspecting the newcomers. He gave Ramil and Gordoc a brief glance, but his gaze lingered on the Princess. Tashi lowered her eyes, not liking his frank interest.

"So, against the odds, you escaped the Spearthrower and stole his and the she-wolf's warhorses," Nerul said, his fingers laced together on the desk.

"My spies carry all sorts of incredible tales about the pair of you-- and your giant." He nodded at Gordoc. "You will not be surprised to hear that Fergox and his sister are none too pleased. I understand that before you said your farewells to him, you were both destined in your different ways to join the Spearthrower dynasty."

Ramil nodded. "Therefore you will understand why we were so anxious to put some distance between us and our suitors."

"Quite. But what of the Princess here? You are very quiet, Your Highness."

"I have nothing to say, Your Grace," Tashi replied, still feeling Merl's gaze on her. Each time she glanced up, he was watching her with a strange look in 187

his eyes. Not fear, thank the Goddess, but speculation.

"My spies tell me you endured the ungentle persuasion of the priests of Holin and refused to convert. The townsfolk are convinced you have demonic powers and that the escape was down to your evil arts," Nerul said, examining her face for her reaction.

"Then the townsfolk are gullible fools." Tashi folded her hands together, taking the demure stance of the Fourth Crown Princess in the Hall of the Floating Lily.

"But it is useful to Fergox for them to believe this as it makes his lapse in security less glaring. He wants no hint of weakness about his rule. He argues that no one can protect themselves against a demon on horseback."

Nerul drummed his fingers on the table. The girl gave nothing away. "He has vowed to burn you at the stake in the town square when he catches you, you know, Princess."

"At least he no longer wishes to marry me. I should be thankful for small mercies."

Nerul frowned. "But what should I do with the pair of you, that is the question.

If Fergox gets wind of you being here, he will no longer ignore our presence in this damp corner of his world. He has written us off as too difficult, content to box us in and cut off our lines of communication when and where he can, but with you here, that all might change."

"There is a hundred thousand herald reward for your recapture, Princess,"

Merl added in his soft, smooth voice. "Only fifty thousand for you, Prince, I'm afraid."

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"I'm deeply offended," muttered Ramil, trying to catch Tashi's eye and make her smile. He was less worried now that he'd met Nerul as he felt certain that here was an honorable man. Whatever Nerul decided about them, it would not be to betray them to the enemy.

Nerul stopped drumming, having come to a decision. "Your arrival here is obviously a problem for us, but I would prefer to see it as an opportunity. I have before me representatives of the last two free nations-- the next targets on Fergox's list. Before you sits the head of a resistance movement that spreads far beyond this sorry-looking bog. I have relations with similar groups throughout the Empire, even in Fergox's capital, Tigral. Fergox thinks he is invincible. He keeps on expanding his rule but forgets about the people he has walked over. His slaves are so badly treated they have little to lose and much to gain if they were to rise. We will not remain crushed by his war machine, but we need arms and allies. Together we may be able to knock him from his throne once and for all."

Ramil had no hesitation. "I know I speak for my father when I say that any assistance we can offer your resistance will be yours for the asking. All I need is a method of communicating with him and I am sure he will fulfill my words with deeds."

Nerul turned to the Blue Crescent Islander. "Princess?"

"Your Grace, you will know that I share the rule of my lands with my sisters so am not empowered to undertake alliances without their agreement,"

Tashi said formally. "Also my current status is under question since 189

my abduction. I have no idea what steps have been taken either to restore me or to replace me."

"Perhaps I can help you there," Nerul said. "I have an excellent source in King Lagan's court who keeps me well informed. The Blue Crescent were going to declare war on Gerfal but were convinced by King Lagan that he was innocent in the matter of your abduction. The Princess Briony is guest on your ships as a pledge of good faith. But as to what is happening in your court at home, I have no idea, I'm afraid. I have insufficient funds to buy information from an Islander and I have never yet succeeded in placing one of my own spies on Rama, more's the pity."

"No, that would be difficult," Tashi said, allowing herself a small smile of satisfaction. It was very hard indeed to imagine an Easterner successfully infiltrating the court, not least because they would look like a duck among swans and be caught out at the first ritual. "If I am still recognized as the Fourth Crown Princess, I promise I will ask my sisters to look favorably on your request."

"We could use your help at sea. That has always been our weak point. No rebellion can survive starved of supplies. Speaking of which, I have been most deficient as a host. You have not eaten or drunk anything since your arrival and we must repair the oversight. Come with me. We were about to have supper and it's already laid in the room beyond."

As they relaxed after the meal with a glass of wine and a handful of hazelnuts, Nerul looked thoughtfully at Tashi.

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"I think, Princess, that we should best keep it a secret that you have joined us--secret from our own people, I mean. As you are no doubt all too aware, some of them entertain strange ideas about the Islanders and no one is above temptation. A hundred thousand heralds might test the loyalty of even my most faithful men." He looked over at Melletin, who with Professor Norling had joined them for supper. "Did you tell your men to keep their mouths shut?"

Melletin nodded. "I told them you would separate them from their manly pride if they squeaked so much as a word."

Nerul grinned. "That's the least I would do to them. And I trust everyone in this room knows how to keep a secret?"

Melletin and Norling murmured their assent.

"But won't they realize?" Tashi asked. "I don't exactly blend in." She gestured to her hair. No one in the East had such fair hair; the lightest color being a mousy brown.

"I'm afraid it will necessitate a disguise on your part, Princess. If you would consent to wear the clothes of one of our ladies, you could dye your hair.

Professor, do you have something the lady could use?"

"Yes, yes, that's very simple. What color do you fancy?" Norling rifled through his bag.

"I suggest red," said Merl with a lingering look at Tashi. "Then we can say she is a distant cousin who has returned from her education abroad. This will both

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explain the accent and account for her escaping Fergox's purge."

"Then red it is. It will wash out, of course. I brewed it myself for our spies."

Norling placed on the table a vial of dark liquid.

Merl snatched it up before Tashi could take it.

"As we cannot risk allowing a maid to see you as you are, perhaps you would allow me to assist you, Princess? We have a wash tent through here."

"I ... er ... I ... " Tashi tried to think of a polite way of refusing.

"It is no trouble and I'm sure you understand the necessity of not being seen about camp as you are," Merl continued smoothly.

Ramil fumed as he watched Tashi being led further into the family rooms of the tent. Nerul gazed after the pair, his expression thoughtful.

"It seems my brother has taken a shine to our guest," he said, stretching his muscular arms above his head and yawning.

"The Princess Taoshira is . . . was my betrothed," Ramil said hotly.

Nerul gave him a sharp look. "Is or was?"

Ramil rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. He no longer knew. "Our marriage plans were interrupted by our unexpected jaunt to Brigard."

"Oh? My sources tell me that she had called the alliance off just prior to her disappearance," Nerul said lightly. "It seems to me that the young lady is free to choose her own partner now."

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Merl ordered his servant to bring hot water and leave it outside the wash tent. Draping a towel over Tashi's shoulders, he poured a warm jugful over her hair, whisking it expertly from her neck and letting it drip into the basin.

She wondered where he had learned the skill of washing a woman's hair but did not dare ask. Neither of them spoke as he massaged in some perfumed soap, his fingers lingering as they brushed the nape of her neck. Tashi felt goosebumps all down her spine and prayed that he would not notice her response to his touch. Rinsing the suds from her hair, he then applied the dye. The water turned orange-red in the bowl.

"The professor is an expert in dreaming up these disguises. A very useful ally," Merl said, breaking the silence as he wrapped a towel around her damp hair. "I'm in charge of our spy network in Mollinder and, thanks to the professor, we are able to give our agents a new appearance when needed.

He even has a dye for skin to make you as dark as your friend, Prince Ramii, 193

though I would hate to see that on you. Your skin is beautiful--the color of milk."

Tashi knew that her cheeks were definitely not the color of milk--more the color of raspberries. No man spoke to a woman like this in the Islands.

Courting was done by the exchange of poetry and hints. Merl was about as subtle as a brass band.

"Too much flattery, sir," she replied, shifting to finger-dry her hair in front of the stove.

Merl took a comb and began to untangle her locks. "You cannot have too much flattery, Your Highness. I speak only the truth. I fear you have been neglected if you think my praise excessive. A beautiful woman should hear such words from all her admirers. There!" He stepped back. "Now all you need are some clothes. I have sent for some to be laid out for you in my chamber. Allow me to show you where that is."

He offered his arm and led her to his room. On the bed was a long green gown, scoop-necked in Eastern fashion.

"I'll leave you to change," he said, kissing her fingers.

Tashi slipped out of her shirt and pulled the gown over her head. It fell in a full skirt from her hips and was cinched by a belt embroidered with white lilies. She guessed it must have once belonged to one of the ladies of the ac Mollinder family. Pacing to the mirror, she presented herself for inspection, amazed and confused by the transformation. She was used to seeing herself in the many layers of the Blue Crescent robes; now she stood in a gown that clung to every curve of her body. Her