Rap was watching her intently. “He rules in Kalkor’s name, so who dares oppose him? No one can leave. Some tried, and the goblins sent back their eyes in bags. The imps wouldn’t let anyone on the ships, because no one had money.”
She shivered, and not from the cold. “I think I understand. And what can you do to help?”
For a moment the cold, ironic mask slipped, and he looked puzzled. “Me? Anything you want. Court sorcerer. I’ll melt down the castle if you tell me to.”
“That seems a little extreme.”
“You decide what you want. Load your coach when you’re ready to leave.”
“Rap!” she said hastily, frightened that he was about to vanish. ”Give me a clue?”
He frowned. “If you give someone something for nothing, that’s how he’ll value it.”
“I do value—”
“I didn’t mean you. That’s your clue. Go talk to your Gods about it!” His stare became icy. “And one more thing—forget about us, Inos! There’s no you-and-me in your future! If you want a man to share your throne and warm your bed, you’ll have to pick some other strong lad. Not me!” Muscles clenched at the corner of his jaw. His neck was corded.
“But, Rap, why—”
“No why!” he shouted. “I’m just telling you a fact. That’s a prophecy, if you like, a real prophecy.”
“I love you, Rap.”
He shrugged. “And I love you! That’s the problem !” He was fading, the brown of his clothes becoming gray, and fainter. She thought she could see love and pain and longing in his eyes, but he was leaving.
“Rap, wait!”
He shook his head, and spoke in a faint, distant voice. “Another clue: When do Nordlanders celebrate Winterfest?”
He had gone. She was alone in the cloister, and the yard was bare and naked under the frost of the winter morning. She began to move to the church door and then changed her mind. Shivering, she tugged her cloak tight about her and headed back to the palace.
6
Two days after Winterfest, the farewells began. The first to go was Shandie, heading off to stay with his aunt until spring came. His mother was rarely seen and he never spoke of her, but he was a much healthier, happier little boy than he had been during the regency. The Leesofts departed in a caravan of coaches. Others followed.
Kade and Inos began their own good-byes. There were many good-byes. A dozen young men swore they would come to Krasnegar on the first ship of spring. It would be heavy laden, Inos thought, and just as burdened when it returned.
Eigaze wept and ate chocolates. Her father was more restrained, but his political standing had not suffered by befriending Inos. He was heavily favored for the next consulship, and she was glad of that. Tiffy swore his heart was broken and he would resign from the hussars to become a priest. Inos made him promise to wait at least a week, confident that by then soft arms would have cushioned his fall.
Kadolan had a strange farewell with Sagorn and his companions. Inos skipped that one, as she knew neither the sage nor Jalon well. She had met Thinal not at all, and retained unhappy memories of the other two.
The imperor was gracious, and he had not presented a bill. What he had offered instead was a treaty between Krasnegar and the Impire, a pact of nonaggression. Inos found the idea amusing, but she also saw what the sly old man had seen sooner—however meaningless it might be in practice, such a document would give her authority if any of her subjects wanted to argue her claim. The text was brief and seemed harmless. Sagorn approved it for her; Emshandar chuckled and claimed that it was the only honest treaty he had ever signed.
Nor would he even accept thanks. “I am far more deeply in your debt than you are in mine, Queen Inos,” he said. “Had it not been for you, Master Rap would not have come to Hub. I owe you my life and my Impire.”
“You owe them to Rap’s folly, Sire, if I may say so.”
“Blessed are fools, for they have no doubts. But most of all, I owe my grandson to him, and to you.”
“You will miss him greatly.”
The foxy old eyes misted. “That is what grandchildren are for—so that the old may also dream, a promise of a future in return for the lost past. Did I tell you what Master Rap told me?”
“No, Sire.” Of course he knew that.
“Greatness! He said he foresaw greatness in Shandie!” Then the ruthless old rogue sniffled quietly and changed the subject.
Clutching her cloak tight about her, Inos came down the steps with Kade, and the coach was waiting. Tiny snowflakes drifted down from a pewter sky. She was not at all surprised that the solitary footman grinned at her with teeth that could have graced a cart horse, nor that his face had a faintly greenish tinge. The cold would not bother him.
She walked over to the coachman, who was petting the lead right horse and whispering in its ear. “Nordlanders celebrate Winterfest at the time of the nearest full moon,” she said softly. It had taken her much trouble to discover that simple fact in Hub. He nodded and granted her a small smile. ”Logical that they would, isn’t it? Three nights from now.”
“They will be feasting?”
“And drinking.”
“Rap . . . I am so grateful. If there is anything—” He lost the smile. Business was all right, apparently, but personal affairs were not. ”Think hard, Inos!” he said grimly. “This is the start of a lifetime. A kingdom will suck you in and bind you forever. You may never hear a word of thanks.”
“Will the people accept me?”
He eyed her for a moment. “After what they have been through? And I can add a few tricks. But is it what you want?”
“Yes. It is my second greatest wish.”
He scowled and turned his back on her to speak to the horse.
There were four of them in the big coach as it rumbled off along the Avenue Agraine in search of the Great West Way. Bundled in fur robes, with hot bricks at their feet, they were an oddly assorted bunch.
Duke Angilki was indifferent, smiling faintly at nothing. He did that for hours at a time, rarely speaking except when he asked for food or bathroom in a childish monotone. Sagorn’s skills had achieved nothing for him, and he would live out his days as one more monument to the evil known as Kalkor. .
Kade was engrossed. From her capacious purse she had produced a lengthy scroll entirely covered in a crabbed, spidery writing. She began studying it intently. Last summer she could not have read a word of it, and certainly not in a bouncing coach.
Locked in a strange medley of emotions, Inos gazed out the windows at the great buildings gliding past. She had come to Hub and conquered; she would never return. The strange adventure was drawing to its close—Kinvale, and Zark, and Thume, and Ilrane, and Hub, and ultimately Krasnegar again. The butterfly would return to its cocoon. Now she must create a new life there for herself, heal wounds, forge new friendships or recast old ones, learn the lonely life of a ruler. With the overland road closed, perhaps for years to come, Krasnegar’s lot would be harder than ever, and all the problems of that tiny make-believe kingdom would come to roost on her thin shoulders. She would not even have Kade to lean on.
With a sorcerer it would be possible. Nothing might be possible without him.
She could not bear to live with Rap around and not love him.
She could not bear to think of living without him around.
And yet, ultimately, her royal duty included producing an heir.
“Some other strong lad,” he had said, but he was the only strong lad she wanted.
Trust in love? Was that a divine admonition as she had believed for so long, or was it, as Rap had said, merely mockery?
The fourth passenger was Master Odlepare, the duke’s secretary. He was a balding, angular man of sour disposition, prematurely middle aged. He had an infuriatingly condescending manner.
Shortly after the coach passed by the sinister Red Palace on its hill, and long before the interesting architecture stopped, he had become bored with silence.
“I brought some thali tiles, ladies,” he remarked. “If either of you cares to play?”
“It is not one of my favorite games,” Inos said, thinking of the Oasis of Tall Cranes with inexplicable nostalgia.
He sighed odiously. “Well, perhaps some other day. We have many days to pass. Many weeks.”
“Weeks?” Kade said, looking up innocently. “Days? Oh, I hardly think so. Master Rap,” she continued without raising her voice, “it is a trifle chilly in here. Would you be so kind as to provide a little warmth?” There was no reply, but the windows silently misted over.