Wolf's Head, Wolf's Heart (23 page)

He said as much to Pearl during the relative privacy of a pair dance during the informal ball that followed the banquet.

"I think," Pearl said a touch sharply, "you may do Lady Zorana an unkindness. There is nothing wrong with a mother wanting the best for her children, and what is more useless than a surplus child of noble heritage but possessed of no title or lands? Lady Zorana's brother, Ivon, will inherit the barony their father won; her husband is, like herself, a younger child with minimal prospects."

Allister nodded, twirled his queen away from him, exchanged her for another partner. When the movements of the dance brought her back into his arms again, he had his reply ready.

"All the more her duty then to see that her children have training for later life," he said. "My father did so for me and there could have been no more useless noble-born child than myself."

"Zorana did her best for her eldest," Pearl reminded him, strong disapproval in her softly spoken words, though her expression remained tranquil. "And now Purcel—a boy our Tavis's age, remember—lies dead beneath the ground outside of Hope, dead fighting a war in which he hoped to serve his king and win honor for his family."

Allister used an intricate series of hand changes to mask an apologetic kiss.

"I will remember that sacrifice, and that many others paid the price for our dancing here in what was once the stronghold of our enemies."

Pearl softened. "And I will remember that many here will see our unmarried three—young as they are—as prizes to be won."

Sometime later King Allister noted that Sir Jared Surcliffe, who had been dancing with Lady Elise Archer, now stood near one of the refreshment tables, a glass of wine held loosely between his long surgeon's fingers, a dreamy expression on his face.

Remembering his promise to Shad and Sapphire that he would accord Sir Jared at least the recognition of his evident favor, if not the position the princess thought he deserved, the king made his way to the younger man's side.

Sir Jared came out of his reverie with a start, dipped a bow that was sincere if not polished, and asked how he might serve the king.

"I thought I'd request your professional opinion as to how Shad and Sapphire look," Allister said, gesturing for Sir Jared to be at ease. "They insisted on riding most of the way here from Silver Whale Cove, even when the weather got ugly and wiser heads sought a space in the carriages."

"I don't think their exertions did them any harm," Sir Jared replied promptly. "They're young and possess the resilience of youth. Mind, I wouldn't recommend a continuation of the punishment they've been giving themselves. Both were wounded during the war and Sapphire was injured shortly before that as well."

The healer's voice dropped so that among the eddying tide of those who hovered hoping for the king's notice—or even among the closer circle that assured him a measure of breathing space—only Whyte Steel might have overheard his words.

"Yet, Your Majesty, I would advise you to find someone who shares my talent and make some excuse for keeping him or her close to the heirs. They would not have healed so swiftly—and thus so cleanly—without the aid I was pleased to give them. If they continue to insist on leading by example there will be other injuries and I cannot always be near to hasten their mending."

King Allister replied without thinking, "Would you like a post as their physician?"

Only as Sir Jared's eyes widened in surprise did Allister realize that he had forgotten his new power. He had spoken as he would as master of his own former estate, one man offering another employment—not as a king bestowing honors and likely to be offended if the other refused. He hastened to add:

"Feel free to decline if you so desire, Sir Jared. I realize you have other commitments."

Sir Jared bowed. "My commitments are mostly to my cousin, Earl Kestrel, and I believe he would release me. Certainly your offer is tempting."

His gaze flickered for the briefest instant to where Lady Elise now danced with a scion of Duke Kite—a youth several years her junior and clearly enchanted with his lovely partner.

Allister Seagleam was no fool. He had noted the rapport between Elise and Jared, had realized, too, that such a match was probably impossible. Earl Kestrel called Sir Jared "cousin," but the relationship was one of several removes—an indication of the earl's regard for the younger man rather than close kinship.

Baron Archer, like his sister Zorana, was only too aware of the tenuous nature of his family's power. He would wish his only daughter's marriage to serve future generations of Archers.

Suddenly, Allister thought he might understand why Sapphire had pressed both him and Uncle Tedric to grant Sir Jared some greater degree of recognition and he liked his new daughter-in-law all the more for this indication of her compassion for the impossible romance.

"Think on my offer," King Allister pressed the knight, "but know that you will be welcome in my court whatever your answer may be."

Too many others had claims on his time for the king to extend the audience. He accepted Sir Jared's thanks and turned to smile upon Duchess Trueheart.

"Grace," he said, claiming her as a friend, since she had served under his command during the recent war. "I heard that you had not yet arrived."

The young duchess—a mere twenty-four and new to her title—smiled. She kept her composure at the king's friendly address, but from the way her eyes sparkled, she appreciated his including her among his intimates—and how the inclusion would raise her in the eyes of her doubters.

"We hit bad weather on the way in, Your Majesty," she said. "May I have the honor of presenting my husband, Alin, and our son, Baxter?"

King Allister turned to do so, accepting the man's bow, and kissing the infant's cheek.

And so we go
, he thought wryly.
Passing on the aura of kingship, playing the game, cementing alliances
.

Just beyond him, the dancers swirled and eddied. Lady Elise went by, this time looking less than happy in the arms of Jet Shield, the crown princess's brother, and once Elise's betrothed.

So we all dance
, Allister thought,
whether to music or to other, more subtle, less pleasant tunes
.

B
aron Endbrook hadn't thought he'd be nervous. After all, he was an important man on Thunder Island and an internationally known shipping magnate—not to mention a baron, and a chosen member of the diplomatic contingent from the Isles. He decided that the last factor must be why he was nervous. Hawk Haven and Bright Bay had intertwined fingers and heirs and so made peace—a peace that looked as if it stood a chance of lasting, not like previous truces that merely had been intermissions in an ongoing conflict.

This time there was a new and important reason for both Bright Bay and Hawk Haven to keep the peace. They had made enemies in common and he, Baron Endbrook, was a representative of one of those enemies. An undeclared enemy, true, but one nonetheless.

They'd have done better to kill Queen Valora
, Waln thought dispassionately, remembering the suppressed fury in his queen's deep blue eyes.
But then others would have taken up her cause
.

Baron Endbrook wasn't politically sophisticated enough to frame the thought that a dead martyr—especially a martyr who was a young and lovely woman—could be far more dangerous than most living foes, but the idea lurked around the edges of his mind, trying to take form.

It had almost done so when a subtle shift in the murmur of conversation caught Waln's attention. The orchestra continued to play, the dancers to face off and form their elaborate patterns, but somehow the dynamics in the crowded hall had shifted.

Taking his cue from those around him, Waln glanced toward the high arched doorway into the hall. When he perceived who it was whose entry had caused the shift in mood his heart skipped a beat. There
she
was, the woman he had come so far to see: Lady Melina Shield.

Waln had glimpsed her earlier, an honored guest at the banquet King Tedric had laid on to welcome the visitors, but at that event, as was only appropriate for a close relative of the bride, Lady Melina had been seated at one of the head tables. The delegation from the Isles, though accorded every courtesy, had not been overly close to those august seats.

Then, as now, Lady Melina had been escorted by her son and heir apparent, Jet Shield. Jet was a young man in his early twenties, so impressively handsome that Baron Endbrook did not doubt that he had but to smile and the girls would fling themselves at his feet. Despite Jet's elegant appearance—midnight black hair, glittering onyx eyes, a sensuous yet somehow brooding mouth—there was nothing effete about Jet Shield. From the thickness of his dark brows to the firmness of his tread, Jet was as male as a tomcat, though far more polished.

Baron Endbrook moved to where he could get his first close look at Lady Melina. Pride suffused the lady's bearing, pride and an alertness that said she knew that people talked about her—and that sometimes, out of fear, they whispered.

Lady Melina's skin was pale and somewhat translucent. There were circles under her eyes, yet these caused her to appear tragic rather than haggard, as they might have a lesser woman. Otherwise, Lady Melina was so smothered under veils and black velvet that nothing could be guessed of her figure or even her age.

Mother and son were clad entirely in black: gleaming rooks amid the brilliant rainbow that surrounded them. From what Baron Endbrook had heard, Jet always dressed in black, thus keeping theme—as all of Lady Melina's children did—with his given name. Proof of this rumor was the diadem he wore even now, a thick band of gold set in the center with an intricately carved piece of jet.

Lady Melina's reasons for choosing to wear black were more obscure. Some said her choice was out of grief for her late husband or—this last was usually whispered—for her brother, Newell, the traitor. However, black was not universally recognized as symbolizing mourning. White would have done as well if that was her desire.

I'd bet half the cargo from any ship in my fleet
, Waln thought sardonically,
that the lady's real reason for choosing that color was that she knew it would make her the center of all eyes, even with two monarchs and their spouses for competition
.

He sought a glimpse of the famous necklace of enchanted gemstones Lady Melina was reported to wear at all times. Rumor said that the necklace held five stones—one stone each to bind the souls of each of her five children. Some said that now the necklace held only four—that the blue stone that had represented Sapphire was gone, vanished even as its mate had vanished from the diadem about the princess's brow.

Tonight, however, Lady Melina's necklace was not in sight, though Waln fancied that something did bulk beneath the neckline of her gown.

From his studying of the packet he had found waiting for him in his ship's cabin, Waln knew that Lady Melina Shield was the youngest child and only daughter of the late Pola, Duchess Gyrfalcon. As a much petted and long-awaited daughter, she had been given a large dowry on the occasion of her marriage to Rolfston Redbriar, a fact that—if Queen Valora's spies were to be believed—had not set too well with those three brothers who stood no more chance than she of inheriting the duchy.

Whether or not (he marriage that had occasioned such generosity had been a good one remained a matter of debate. Some said that the marriage had been happy, that Lord Rolfston had been content to be ruled by his wife. Others said that he chafed, maintained a series of common-born mistresses, and longed for personal recognition, but that he feared his wife too much to openly challenge her authority.

Happy or not, the marriage had produced five children, each named for a gemstone: Sapphire, Jet, Opal, Ruby, and Citrine. Jet had been the only son and—most agreed—his mother's favorite. Sapphire had been too headstrong, too aware of her own power as heir apparent to the family's generous holdings.

Now, however
, Waln mused,
Sapphire is King Tedric's daughter by law and Melina's favorite will take over—that is, he'll haul the load but she'll touch the reins or the whip. Nor, if her forbidding their attending Sapphire's Bright Bay wedding is any indication, has the lady given up plans to run her younger daughters' lives
.

Speaking to Lady Melina here would be too public for his purposes, but there were ways he could contact her, even in this press, without being any the wiser.

Waln waited until Lady Melina condescended to join one of the long pattern dances. Then he hastened to find a partner of his own, pleased that the nearest available was a pretty enough fair-haired minx.

When Lady Melina had marched her own partner to the head of the line, Waln guided his partner to a space farther down, carefully counting so that—if the form of the dance was the same here as in the Isles—before the dance ended he would tread a measure or two with Lady Melina.

Then, making as if to tighten the buckle on his shoe, he transferred into his shirt cuff the short note he had written earlier in the privacy of his room.

"
Lady Melina
," it said, "
I have a proposition that should interest you greatly, but we must speak of it only in the greatest possible privacy. Suggest where we may meet
."

Baron Endbrook left the note unsigned. After all, Lady Melina would surely discover the sender's identity.

Quivering with equal parts anticipation and apprehension, Waln concentrated on the dance. The steps were not too different from what he had learned on the Isles, though he rapidly discovered that his more boisterous execution of some of the moves was considered a bit "country."

A kind young fellow muttered a few hints to him as they passed in one set and by the time Waln's segment of the line had intersected with Lady Melina's, Waln fancied that he was dancing as well as any—and better than many. Wine and sweet hard cider had been freely available and some of the dancers had not sweated their indulgence from their systems.