Behind her the door opened and closed; boots sounded on the threadbare rugs.
“His majesty,” Eigaze murmured. She took Maya’s hand. “Jump down, dear, and we’ll go and look for some more chocolate.”
“You got some in that bag!” Maya protested, but she went off with her new honorary aunt.
Shandie moved close. Eshiala smiled, and he embraced her awkwardly. He was not accustomed to displaying affection in public—or at almost any other time, for that matter.
“There it is, my dear. Safe haven for you and our daughter. What you wanted.” His face was giving away nothing. It never did.
She had hurt him that morning. She had not meant to. She hurt him far too often, always without meaning to. She did not know how not to hurt, somehow. Nor did he. They were both well meaning, and both clumsy.
“It would be a happier haven if you could stay and share it with us.”
“Of course it would, but that is not possible. You know that: Time is not on our side. We must act quickly.”
She nodded. The Impire came before the impress, of course. “I understand.” She didn’t, though—not properly. She never would.
“I don’t know how long it will be. Months, I am sure.”
“Will you tell me where you are going?”
“I haven’t even decided yet. And even if . . . But we have not discussed it yet. We need to get you settled first. That has priority.”
He wouldn’t have told her, anyway. Perhaps that made good sense, because if the Covin discovered her, then it would force her to tell. But the refusal still hurt.
“I understand.”
“And the sooner we can split up, the better, too. The Covin will be hunting for a group of a dozen or so. We must separate.” Again she repeated her mantra. “I understand.”
“We all serve the Impire as we can. And yours is the most important job of all—to preserve the line of succession.” When she looked at her child she saw a little girl, not a line of succession.
“If I am caught,” Shandie said harshly, “then of course I shall be perverted to serving the dwarf. I expect I shall send for you then. I just hope it never comes to that.”
And the dwarf would enslave Eshiala, also. Perhaps she would be happier then, playing her role under sorcerous compulsion. Her loyalty to the sorcerer would override all her other loyalties—to Maya, to her husband, to the Impire. Then she might be free of her doubts and sense of failure. Did a puppet feel stage fright? “We must pray,” she muttered.
“Of course. The old couple will be good company for you. We couldn’t have found better. The warlock has supplied money—I wish the Imperial Treasury could turn out gold the way he can! You can hire a few servants, live quietly. Discourage visitors, of course, but the houses around here are usually deserted in winter. And Ylo will be a good defender.”
Eshiala drew a deep breath and steeled herself to make a protest. Shandie must have felt her move, and misunderstood. Naturally.
“Not that I anticipate danger!” he said hurriedly. “But you need a strong young man to keep order among the servants and so on. So that they know there can be no nonsense. He will have to walk into Faintown tomorrow and buy horses and food and hire people . . .”
It had all been carefully planned. The trouble was that no one had asked her to share in the planning. That was part of what was bothering her. The realization made her feel petty for being annoyed, but perhaps it also steeled her to voice a complaint about the bigger problem.
“Ylo?” she said.
“It has to be him or Hardgraa,” Shandie said with a trace of impatience. “The old fellow would be heartbroken if I. left him behind now, after all these years.”
“Of course. Your safety is the most important thing, of course. You will be in far greater danger than we will.”
Shandie himself had warned her of Ylo’s reputation. She must not confess her own self-doubts, her terror that she would not be able to resist his glib tongue and roguish smile, even when she knew that he was only philandering. She must not inflate her own misgivings into a major quarrel between the two men.
“Actually Ylo’s by far the better horseman,” Shandie said. “In that way I suppose it would make more sense . . .” Suddenly he realized. His face did not change, except for his eyes, but he knew. “What has he said?”
Danger! There was death in that imperial glare. “Nothing!”
“One word! If he has spoken one word of disrespect, I will have his head!”
“No! Nothing! He has said nothing!” Now she had started lying to her husband.
Fury seeped into his expression then, as if he had been holding it back by an effort of will and was relaxing. “Then what! What is bothering you? You will have the count and countess to support you!”
He did not understand! How could she possibly explain? Had Shandie ever been afraid of anything? Did he know what fear was? “Darling, listen! A man like Ylo doesn’t need to say anything! Not a word. He can convey everything he wants just by raising an eyebrow. Oh . . . a woman knows, always. It’s like the caliph.”
“The caliph?” Shandie echoed, bewildered. “What’s he got to do with it?”
“He’s a threat, isn’t he? Even if he does nothing, just because he’s there the Impire has to keep its defenses up, doesn’t it?”
“Er. Yes.”
“Well, when men like Ylo are around, a woman has to keep her defenses up. That’s all. He doesn’t say anything or do anything. All he needs to do is smile!” She smiled, then, and put her arms around him. “Don’t worry! I can handle Ylo.” Liar, liar!
“Where in the world did you learn that about the caliph?”
“From Marshal Ithy, at dinner the other night.”
“Amazing. Yes, I see what you mean, then. Ylo won’t take ‘no’ for an answer?”
“Not for long. But don’t worry about it. It will always be ‘no.’ I promise!” Ylo at mealtimes. Ylo escorting her wherever she went. Ylo smiling, joking, flirting. He was always so convincing, so sure of himself. She was always so uncertain.
Shandie nodded a few times. “I should have asked you, of course. Fool that I am! Why didn’t I think to ask you? Well, if you would rather have Hardgraa, then so you shall. Excuse me.” He turned and stamped to the door.
Heart pounding, Eshiala stared out the window. She had made Shandie change his mind! She knew how rarely that happened. She had won! How many times did that make? In the last two days, she had asserted herself more often than she had done in all the years since he had first walked into her father’s store, back in Thumble. How she wished she had asserted herself then, instead of letting her parents bully her into accepting him! She would have been much happier had she married a plowman or the miller’s apprentice.
Still, now she felt a surge of triumph, mixed with a huge relief. Shandie trusted her—it had probably never occurred to him not to. She did not trust herself, that was the real trouble! She did not believe she could have resisted Ylo. He would have smiled and talked, flattered and joked, teased and sworn oathsand eventually he would have won. Sooner or later he would have found a way around her defenses.
Probably sooner.
3
Shandie emerged from the deckhouse and announced loudly that he had changed his mind—Signifer Ylo would accompany him, and Hardgraa would remain to guard the impress. Scrambling back over the rail, Rap watched the reactions with some amusement. Although he made a point of never prying into other people’s thoughts, in this case he could read them quite clearly on the two faces.
Hardgraa was driven by a fierce personal loyalty, and Shandie was heading off into danger without his bodyguard—that was folly! The old warrior’s urge to protest struggled with lifelong obedience, but before either gained a clear advantage, he .felt a stab of alarm that he was being discarded because of his age; then came insight into the probable reasons for the change, which brought a surge of satisfaction and pride, and finally a quick rationalization that the baby princess was even more valuable now than Shandie, and not least to Shandie himself. Therefore the new posting was the greater honor. It was all over before he completed his salute.
Young Ylo’s emotions traveled a different road, but just as quickly. His first reaction was disbelief:
It is prophesied!
Then came anger and chagrin—the promiscuous rascal was totally besotted with Eshiala at the moment. They were followed by cold calculation: If he believed the prophecy, he must now assume that he was destined to return to her before daffodil time and would therefore survive any dangers he might encounter in the next few months. Finally he, too, resorted to rationalization—an adventurous journey with the imperor would be much more interesting than baby-sitting a group of civilians in a lonely country house. So Ylo also smiled. The young rake took life very much as it came, Rap concluded, but self-interest was always uppermost. He never considered other people.