Wolf's Head, Wolf's Heart (86 page)

"More amazing," Allister said, drawing her back inside and to the fire, "than Lady Blysse and her wolf?"

"More," Pearl said, "for these came of their own will with no human guidance. Their behavior makes me wonder how much we have been overlooking. Have they been here all along?"

Allister found that the idea made him uneasy, but as there was nothing he could do about it—short of trying to drive every bird from the castle, and that was manifestly insane—he put both idea and discomfort from him.

He and Pearl spent several minutes discussing matters she might need to deal with in his absence; then Calico knocked at the library door.

"The
Waveslicer
can sail at dawn," he said, "winds permitting."

"We always sail 'winds permitting,' " Allister said with a smile. "Very good. Tell the captain I will be with her an hour before we sail. I will bring two guards with me, but otherwise trust her vessel to supply my other needs."

"Very good, Sire."

Calico paused and, when nothing further was forthcoming, asked diffidently:

"May I know the reason for your departure, Sire? I wish to be of aid and already rumors are spreading."

"Already?" Allister was astonished.

"Your private craft readied at such short notice, Sire," Calico replied. "It could not go without comment."

"I suppose not."

Allister gave Calico an edited version of the truth that included pirate action with possible political overtones but left out Citrine's situation—he and Pearl had decided that Ruby and Opal would be better off not knowing. That he had received his news from an apparently intelligent hawk he also left out. Let Calico assume he had a skilled spy network that even the clerk didn't know about. Such would only add to most of his subjects' respect for him.

"Queen Pearl will take over matters of business in my absence," the king concluded. "With your support, I trust there will be no difficulties that cannot be met."

Calico straightened with pride.

"I will give the queen every assistance."

"I never doubted that for a moment."

K
ing Allister was preparing to depart before first light the next morning when a rap came upon his dressing-room door.

"The king," his valet called out sharply, "is not receiving. He must catch the tide."

"I bear an urgent message for His Majesty," came the reply, its tone as uncompromising as the valet's, "from the crown prince."

King Allister waved a hand and the valet reluctantly opened the door. One of the guards stood without.

"Delivered just this moment," he said, passing the king a packet wrapped in oiled cloth. "The messenger had spent himself and nearly broke his horse's wind getting it here, so I took it upon myself to spare him the stairs."

"Good thinking. Thank you and give him my thanks. If I'm to catch my ship, I may not have time to speak with him myself, but Queen Pearl will give him audience if needed."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Allister didn't need to instruct that the messenger be given food and a bed. He could trust his servants to do that as a matter of course. The guard withdrew and Allister opened the packet. Within were several sheets of paper, closely written in what Allister recognized as his son Shad's neat, angular hand.

Knowing the tide would not wait upon his leisurely perusal of the contents, Allister permitted the valet to continue dressing him—a thing he normally deplored as the ultimate expression of laziness.

Dear Father,

By now you may have received a note from Sir Jared Surcliffe. If you were in doubt as to whether or not to do as he requests therein, I herein request you to do so at the request of your fellow monarch, King Tedric of Hawk Haven.

That being said, I should say that I have no doubt that you will have done so without prompting.

There was a blot here, as if the writer had been interrupted.

Sapphire, reading this over my shoulder, tells me that I am being unnecessarily cryptic, that I must tell you what you are to do in case Sir Jared's letter did not reach you. Very well. We request that you direct any vessels you have operating in the vicinity of Hawk Haven
—
as you requested permission to do this autumn in light of then just completed events
—
to proceed to the vicinity of the former lighthouse known as Smuggler's Light
.

Once there, your captains should be instructed to keep any and all vessels, no matter the registry, from departing without being searched. The cargo they are searching for is a girl of some eight years, one Citrine Shield. They should be informed that she may be disguised, drugged, or otherwise unable or unwilling to identify herself.

Allister lifted his foot so that his valet might slide his boot onto it. A small smile twisted the corner of his lips. He could imagine Sapphire dictating those orders to Shad. They certainly didn't sound like his son.

The king feared Sapphire would be disappointed in her father-in-law. He had given no such detailed orders—only that ships were to be held against departing. To say more would be to stir up rumors with which he did not care to deal, especially if the matter could be resolved more quietly. He continued reading:

Although we ourselves were only informed of matters this morning, we are departing within an hour or so, riding with all haste to the swamps north of Port Haven. If you wonder at our decisiveness, know this.

For some time now, Sapphire has been worried about her sister Citrine. More lonesome for her sisters than she would have believed possible, she had inquired after the possibility of Citrine paying a winter's visit. At first her brother, Jet, put her off with vague excuses. This did not do for long.

Not long ago, Jet was forced to admit that not only did he not know where Citrine was
—
except that she was in Lady Melina's keeping
—
he did not know where Lady Melina was either. She has apparently been out of touch with her son and heir since mid-Boar Moon. With any other person, this might be excusable. With Lady Melina, who has delighted in dominating her family
…

There was a thick crossing out several words in length, then the text continued.

…
this is a matter for speculation if not outright concern. Therefore, Sapphire was already worried when Sir Jared's news arrived
.

This missive will be sent to you by a series of fast riders, these riders directed to press night and day so that you might hear of our actions and be encouraged to have your fleet join us in resolving this matter.

I must go. My horse is ready, my wife champing at the bit.

Allister smiled at this last despite the serious nature of the correspondence. Folding the letter and returning it to its sleeve, he found himself dressed.

"Thank you," he said to the valet. "Take a few days' leave in my absence. You deserve it."

"My thanks, Your Majesty."

Pearl was waiting for him without. Allister embraced her and slid the letter into her hand.

"Read at your leisure, my dear. It is mostly Shad's personal views on the matter that sends me to sea. I don't think they need be shared with the court."

Pearl gave him a wan smile and tucked her fingers into the crook of his arm.

"Tavis and the twins are up and ready to see you off," she said.

The next several minutes were occupied with purely domestic matters—indeed, with some of the most intimate moments the family had shared since the coronation.

Then King Allister departed through the sea gate and from there directly on board the
Waveslicer
. One of the virtues of Revelation Point Castle was that it possessed a deep enough harbor that all but the largest ships could come directly to the dock.

He stood on deck waving for a moment; then, at the urging of Perce Potterford, the guard Whyte had placed in command of the pair who were to accompany the king, Allister went into his cabin. He heard the creak of the lines and the slap of the canvas as the sails caught the wind.

An urgency that hadn't been with Allister while he still had tasks to perform seized him now. Had he thought it would have helped matters, King Allister of the Pledge would have pulled a line or helped haul up the anchor himself.

He knew, however, that his appearance would only make the crew nervous. Sighing, he pulled out a stack of documents that Calico had thrust upon him, and composed himself to wait.

W
inter sunlight, bright and clear but without much heat, peered through the foliage as if seeking to spy upon Firekeeper and Blind Seer. For the last several days, woman and wolf had been acquainting themselves with the unfamiliar terrain surrounding Smuggler's Light.

Until she had seen Smuggler's Light for herself, Firekeeper had not wanted to wait to rescue Citrine—diplomatic considerations or not. Her first sight of the structure, some two days before her companions arrived, had quite quelled her enthusiasm for taking on the pirates alone.

The uncertain footing and sinkholes that made the swamp a death trap for those humans who dared venture beyond the damp meadows into the swamp proper provided minimal risk to the wolf-woman. She had the good sense to trust Blind Seer to pick out a path for her. He did this with greater ease than even he might have anticipated, because—although they did everything possible to eliminate their trail—humans
did
use the swamp.

In summer, the general wetness might have eliminated even a scent trail. In winter, with much of the surface water frost-bound, those who used the trails were more easily followed. In summer, the fecund greenery would have provided further barriers, masking trails with vines and opportunistic grasses. In winter, though the evergreens kept their needles, the bay-berry, ash, and oak that had adapted to thrive in the brackish conditions had shed their leaves. The grasses had died back or had been devoured by foraging deer and rabbits.

Canebrakes still blocked lines of sight, however, as did tall stands of cattails. These slim reeds with their heavy tails on top swayed in the wind, fascinating Firekeeper, who had never seen them in such quantity, nor of such size.

But though she delighted in the swamp much as she had the marsh near Revelation Point Castle, the wolf-woman's main purpose for investigating the terrain so carefully was so that she might rescue Citrine. She treasured a private vision of herself going to meet Derian and the rest upon their arrival, holding Citrine by one hand.

Wolf-like, she thrived on the praise of her pack mates; human-like, she imagined that praise before it was earned, carefully building images until the event seemed merely a formality. Her first sight of Smuggler's Light shocked those imaginings from her forever.

Smuggler's Light so dominated the surrounding area that Firekeeper had trouble believing that many of the people in the area had forgotten it had ever been built. As tall as many of the tallest structures she had seen in Dragon's Breath, the lighthouse was a deceptively slender cylinder of smoothly dressed stone capped with a windowed room at the very top. Vines dense enough to cover the stone, but not thick enough to bear weight, gave the stone a diaphanous cloak.

As had Thendulla Lypella in New Kelvin, Smuggler's Light also had structures around its base. These were also made of smoothly dressed stone and were connected to the lighthouse like spokes onto the hub of a wheel. In the spaces between these spokes were fenced yards. From some of these Firekeeper could smell chickens, ducks, goats, pigs, and rabbits. Others showed some evidence of having been gardens—fallow now but for cabbages, kale, and, probably, root vegetables.

There was no scent of either horses or cows. Doubtless the occupants trusted their comings and goings either to boats or to any one of the numerous foot trails Blind Seer had found threaded through the swamp.

Firekeeper—more sophisticated now in fashions of human building—doubted that the original lighthouse outbuildings had possessed such solid iron-sheathed doors, nor that the windows had been made with shutters that—once drawn closed—defied any to open them while at the same time providing those within with ample slits from which to fire arrows.

She wondered some at finding these shutters drawn, but decided that those within could be seeking any possible insulation from the winter cold. Smuggler's Light—whatever its merits—was not overly generously supplied with chimneys. Doubtless it was rather chilly within.

The entire complex was built upon an island of solid, rocky ground that emerged from the surrounding swamp into a perceptible hill. The channel surrounding the hill had been dug out, providing the lighthouse with a moat wider than Derian was tall. A deep channel to the east assured both that water from the ocean would keep that moat filled even during a severe drought and that boats could get directly to the lighthouse.

When Firekeeper first saw this moat, she found no bridges across it. A later, more careful, inspection revealed the makings for bridges concealed on the island near where each of the trails through the swamp ended. These bridge makings, however, were not only concealed—they were stored far enough from the moat's edge that they could not be "borrowed" from the wrong side.

A cleared zone on either side of the bank meant that no one could sneak up unobserved—at least no normal person could. Firekeeper and Blind Seer came that first time by night and if any watcher had glimpsed them, he would have thought them merely two of the wild creatures that the swamp drew into itself each winter when foraging without became sparse.

Seeing the place, Firekeeper gave up any hope of stealing Citrine away without help. Indeed, she wondered if anyone, even Sapphire with an army to aid her, could breach these defenses. She no longer questioned that Princess Lovella had died trying to take the place. Indeed, she felt considerable respect that the princess had even dared try.