Trickster's Choice (36 page)

When they got back to Tanair, Aly had a quick talk with the duchess about the morning’s events. “So you’re saying we have a mage now,” Winnamine said when Aly was done. “And we need to make her part of the household, without raising a fuss.”

Aly bowed. “Exactly, my lady.”

Winnamine stared into the distance for a moment, her lips moving as she thought. At last she looked at Aly. “Rihani’s never been comfortable as our sole healer. She is a wonderful herbwife, but has little experience with serious ailments. I think she’ll be relieved if this Ochobu takes over, and she can be of use in making medicines. I also know my woman, Pembery, is less than delighted with looking after Elsren and Petranne during the day. Rihani may take her place, and Pembery shall wait on Sarai and me. And you, my dear, are being promoted again. It is time Dove had her own maid.”

Aly grinned. “I serve at Your Grace’s command,” she replied, thinking that the duchess would have made a fine general, with her delicate way of rearranging her troops. From what Aly knew of the household, everyone whose job had just changed would like the new arrangement. The change for Aly herself meant that she was now free to ride anywhere that Dove might choose to go.

Once the duchess met Ochobu and explained things to Rihani and Pembery, Rihani took Ochobu to the keep’s infirmary. Aly helped the footmen to move the duke’s and duchess’s things back to their old rooms, now that Bronau was gone. After the adult Balitangs were resettled and the older girls’ rooms restored for their use, Sarai took charge of Aly’s wardrobe. Dove ordered a hot bath for her new maid. “Because you should look nice, and not shed goat hair on my things,” she said primly, her eyes dancing with mischief.

Aly stuck her tongue out at her young mistress and happily climbed into the tub. The main thing she had missed about home, after her family, was the luxury of a real bath. After weeks of washing in ponds or from a basin full of water, a hot bath was bliss.

Aly soaked until the water began to cool. She washed her scant inches of red-gold hair twice, scrubbed until she was crimson with cleanliness, then dried herself with a proper cloth. She noticed that she had put on some weight with the Balitangs, but the meals of leftovers, bread, and cheese had still not brought her to the weight she had at home.

“Try these,” Sarai ordered, opening the dressing room door and tossing in gowns and shifts. “Can you sew?”

“I can sew,” she told Sarai, thinking, Da made sure of
that
. “Of course, I require the usual tools for it.”

“Use my box,” Sarai offered. “Dove replaced her sewing things with ink and pens and paper. You’ll need to take these clothes in—you’re too big for Dove’s hand-me-downs, and too bony for mine.” She grinned at Aly and closed the door.

Aly spent the rest of the afternoon stitching Sarai’s castoffs to fit her thinner frame. Once she had a complete outfit—a cotton shift and an amber-colored gown—she dressed and hurried downstairs in time to pour the supper wine. Afterward she joined the family in the duke and duchess’s chambers, Sarai’s sewing box balanced on her hip. There she sat and sewed, a perfectly natural evening’s occupation for a lady’s maid. Once Rihani took Elsren and Petranne up to bed, the family shifted in their seats to look at Aly.

“I thought you objected to promotion,” remarked the duke. “You told us that people would notice a servant being somewhere that she shouldn’t.”

“I’ve kept my goatherd’s things just in case,” Aly said. “For now, acting as Lady Dove’s maid will take me to the places I need to go as long as I continue to wear my collar.”

There was a rap on the door. Without waiting, Ochobu came in and closed the door behind her, sealing it with a line of magical fire visible only to Aly. “To foil eavesdroppers,” the old woman explained gruffly. She nodded abruptly to the Balitangs, then took a seat uninvited.

Aly sighed internally at the old woman’s pride, then told the duke, “Your Grace, this is Ochobu Dodeka of Pohon village. She is the mother of Ulasim, and a true mage. Ochobu, I present His Grace Duke Mequen Balitang.” Aly glared at the old woman until she bowed to the duke from her seat. “Her Grace has already made Ochobu’s acquaintance,” Aly continued. “Ochobu, may I also present Lady Saraiyu, and Lady Dovasary.”

The old woman looked the girls over with sharp eyes. Then she bowed, but to that she added the raka gesture of respect, her arms crossed over her breasts, palms on the opposite shoulders. The girls, startled, responded with the same gesture.

To the duke Aly said, “Ochobu is sent by the god to help to protect you.” She crossed her fingers behind her back, praying that no one here would mention which god was involved. She had forgotten to tell Ochobu that the Balitangs believed it was Mithros who had taken an interest in their fate.

“When Aly said she’d found a true healer and herbwife, I nearly collapsed with relief,” the duchess told the duke with a smile. “Rihani is good with herbs and lesser ailments, but I’ve been living in fear that someone would break a leg or some great sickness would reach us. We would be in real trouble.” To Ochobu she said, “You are thrice welcome among us.”

“I could do no less, lady,” Ochobu replied stiffly. “I served the family of the first duchess, and it is my honor to serve her daughters.”

“I would like to learn from you, if it’s agreeable,” Winnamine said. “Unless you prefer not to have someone underfoot? I know many healers don’t. Rihani will assist you, of course, but I think the more I can learn, the more useful I will be.”

Aly couldn’t decipher the look that Ochobu gave Winnamine. Finally the old woman said, “Most luarin do not ask. They order.”

“We are not of that sort,” Mequen replied, his deep voice quiet. “In this house the raka are respected, as my first wife was respected. Winnamine was also Sarugani’s friend.”

“We can gather herbs when we go out riding, like we did for Rihani,” Sarai told Ochobu. “If we know what to look for, we will.”

“Riding?” asked the duke, raising his brows. “Are you not needed here? Lessons, getting our house in order for winter … ?”

“We have summer chores well covered,” said the duchess. “The girls feel they didn’t really get to know the local people on their rides with Bronau. Everything was formal, and country matters bore him. I’d like to stay home with the little ones. I feel I’ve been neglecting them.” When Mequen still frowned, the duchess touched his arm. “My dear, the girls will have plenty of time for lessons once winter starts. The villagers say we may be confined to the castle for days at a time. Let them ride now, while they can.”

Mequen took Winnamine’s hand within his. “Very well.” He looked at the girls. “Behave and obey your guards, or you will be confined to the castle grounds until spring, do you understand? We are not in Rajmuat any longer. Trouble can find us here easily.”

“Yes, Papa,” said Dove meekly.

“Yes, Papa,” echoed Sarai.

Aly glanced at Ochobu. The old mage watched the duke, her eyes and face unreadable. Still, thought Aly, she isn’t cursing or spitting on the floor because he and the duchess are luarin. It’s a start.

In a time of fear, the One Who I Promised will come to the raka, bearing glory in her train and justice in her hand. She will restore the god to his proper temple and his children to her right hand. She will be twice royal, wise and beloved, a living emblem of truth to her people. She will be attended by a wise one, the cunning one, the strong one, the warrior, and the crows. She will give a home to all, and the kudarung will fly in her honor.

—From the Kyprish Prophecy, written in the year 200 H.E.,
discovered in Duke Mequen’s books by Aly

T
he next morning, after Pembery and Aly helped them to dress and make up their room, Sarai and Dove took Aly to breakfast, then to the stable. They passed Nawat, seated in the sun as was his habit, carefully gluing feathers to shafts. Aly stopped for a moment, fascinated with Nawat’s fine touch as he set the fletchings in glue. Sarai returned and dragged her away.

Lokeij’s stable boys had already saddled Sarai’s gelding, Dove’s mare, and Aly’s mare Cinnamon. Fesgao, two of the other men-at-arms, and Junai were already mounted, waiting for them. Aly clambered as awkwardly as she could into the saddle and made a small business of wriggling to settle herself. Their party rode through Tanair at a walk. Many of the people who were out wanted to greet the two Balitang girls personally. Aly was careful to sit her mount like a sack of flour, keeping up the pretense that she rode badly.

Once they were clear of Tanair’s gate, Sarai cried, “Let’s go!” and kicked her gelding into a gallop. Fesgao and one of the men-at-arms followed her, catching up before she was too far ahead. Dove did not even twitch her mare’s rein for a faster gait. Aly, Junai, and the other man-at-arms stayed with her.

“I thought she just did that to show off for Bronau,” Aly commented.

“No,” Dove told her, and sighed heavily. “Every summer, when we go to our mountain estates on Tongkang, she gallops everywhere. She loves to ride. I think she’d do anything in the saddle if she could, including sleep.”

“That talent could be useful,” Aly pointed out.

“Wait till your behind starts to hurt,
then
tell me if it’s useful,” advised the younger girl. “I really admire Winna. All those rides with Bronau, and never once did she let on she’s got saddle sores.”

“She wants Sarai to like her
that
much?” Aly was surprised. She knew that the duchess wanted her stepdaughters’ affection, but she hadn’t guessed how far the lady might go for it.

“Well, a little,” Dove admitted. “They get on well enough anymore. Mostly Winna came for Bronau.” She frowned, her small dark face intent on her thoughts. “Winna likes him well enough. I mean, you could tell, she laughed at his jokes, and they talked all the time, but—Aly, she doesn’t trust him. I don’t think she even knows how little she trusts him. She never let them escape their bodyguards on our rides.”

“Interesting,” Aly said thoughtfully, sharpening her magical Sight so that she could keep an eye on Sarai and her escorts, still galloping down the road. “She doesn’t think he’d dishonor Sarai, does she?”

“I don’t know,” Dove replied. “What I know is that Winna understands the prince as well as anybody, even better than Papa. Her not trusting him to behave honorably, that worries me. Doesn’t it worry you? Because I don’t think we’ve seen the last of His Highness, not at all.”

Aly looked at the twelve-year-old. “You’re very observant,” she remarked.

“And cold,” Dove said, her mouth pulled down in distaste. “You didn’t say cold. Everyone does.”

“But you’re not cold,” Aly replied. “You’ve learned to hide yourself. To hide in plain sight.”

“Like you,” Dove pointed out.

Aly grinned. “You have to admit, it’s very useful.”

Dove chuckled. When she did, her face lit with a powerful light. “Do you play chess?”

“A little,” replied Aly, who could almost beat her grandfather, one of the finest players in Tortall.

“Good,” Dove said cheerfully. “It’s getting harder to lose so Papa doesn’t realize what I’m doing. I can tell him I’m teaching you.”

After their return to the castle, Aly laid out clean clothes for Dove, then went in search of their new mage. She found Ochobu in the rooms set aside for the healer and any patients at the back of the kitchen wing. The old woman was hanging up bunches of dry herbs next to those Rihani had already prepared. Shelves along one side of the infirmary, once empty but for Rihani’s collection of salves, liquids, and tools, now bore a collection of medical and magical tools, substances, and books.

“What do you want?” Ochobu demanded, stretching to hang a bunch of dried mint from a beam overhead.

Aly leaned against the door frame and smiled. “I wanted to see how you were settling in. I confess, I thought you’d prefer to live in a hut behind the stable than here within luarin walls.”

Ochobu glared at her. “If I say I will do a thing, I do it,” she informed Aly stiffly. “I have come to safeguard the lady Sarai, and to help you win your wager. If the Balitang children survive the summer, there will be one less luarin in the Isles at least, and you are a particularly annoying one.”

Aly raised her brows. “So the god told you of our bet. Does Ulasim know?”

Ochobu shook her head. “The god spoke to me in the night. He says you are only a temporary irritation. He thinks that with the summer over, the luarin rulers will have sorted out the kingship. The lady who may or may not be our promised one shall be safe for the winter.” She poured juniper berries from a bowl into a mortar and began to mash them, releasing their piney scent.

The mention of the end of the wager itched Aly. Being called “a temporary irritation” was also quite annoying. “There are too many of us to kill, you know,” she pointed out, thinking she was starting to talk like her father. “Too many who have been here three centuries.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” demanded Ochobu, pausing in her work to scowl at Aly. “I’ll have to get used to luarin, even if they aren’t you.”

“You will if you don’t want a massacre,” Aly said, holding the old woman’s eyes with hers. “If you don’t want to mark your return to power with killing. How much luarin blood will you discard? Half-bloods? You’d murder your own lady, then. She’d object to the murder of her luarin father and stepmother in any case. Quarter-bloods, eighth-bloods? How much do you count as being too much?”

“Stop it,” growled the old woman. “The raka people are not like the first three Rittevon kings, slaughtering those who would not bend the knee to them. We are not murderers.”

“That’s not what I learned at my da’s knee,” Aly retorted. Her mental image of people executed by righteous natives was too awful for her to let Ochobu’s prejudices stand without argument. “The raka used to kill all the time. Your nobles and your rather temporary queens in the years before the luarin came were so busy battling each other that you didn’t have the strength to fight off an invasion. By the time you banded together, it was too late.”