‘Why don’t I just take your word for it? And why don’t you go back to bed?’
‘Because you haven’t kissed me yet.’
‘Oh. Sorry. I had my mind on something else.’
‘Of course not.’
‘Then give me a kiss.’ He did that. As always she
smelled of grass and trees. ‘Wash your feet,’ he told her.
‘Oh bother,’ she said.
‘Do you want to spend a week explaining those grassstains to your mother?’
‘That’s all I get?’ she protested. ‘One meager little kiss
and bathing instructions?’ He laughed, picked her up and kissed her again
– several times. Then he put her down. ‘Now scoot.’ She pouted a little
and then sighed. She started back toward her bedroom, negligently carrying
Rollo by one hind leg. ‘Don’t keep mother up all night,’ she said back
over her shoulder, ‘and please try to be quiet. Why do you two always have
to make so much noise?’ She looked impishly back over her shoulder. ‘Why
are you blushing, father?’ she asked innocently. Then she
laughed and went on into her own room and closed the
door.
He could never be sure if his daughter really understood
the implications of such remarks, although he was
certain that one level at least of her strangely layered
personality understood quite well. He made sure that
her door was latched and then went into the bedroom
he shared with his wife. He closed and bolted the door
behind him.
The fire had burned down to embers, but there was
still sufficient light for him to be able to see the young
woman who was the focus of his entire life. Her wealth
of pale blonde hair covered her pillow, and in sleep she
looked very young and vulnerable. He stood at the foot
of the bed looking at her. There were still traces of the
little girl he had trained and moulded in her face.
He sighed. That train of thought always made him
melancholy, because it brought home the fact that he
was really too old for her. Ehlana should have a young
husband – someone less battered, certainly someone
handsome. He idly wondered where he had made the
mistake that had so welded her affection to him that she
had not even considered any other possible choice. It
had probably been something minor – insignificant
even. Who could ever know what kind of effect even
the tiniest gesture might have on another?
“I know you’re there, Sparhawk,’ she said without
even opening her eyes. There was a slight edge to her
voice.
“I was admiring the view.’ A light tone might head off
the incipient unpleasantness; though he didn’t really
have much hope of that.
She opened her grey eyes. ‘Come over here,’ she
commanded, holding her arms out to him.
“I was ever your Majesty’s most obedient servant.’ He
grinned at her, going to the side of the bed.
‘Oh, really?’ she replied, wrapping her arms about his
neck and kissing him. He kissed her back, and that went
on for quite some time.
‘Do you suppose we could save the scolding until
tomorrow morning, love?’ he asked. ‘i’m a little tired
tonight. Why don’t we do the kissing and making up
now, and you can scold me later.’
‘And lose my edge? Don’t be)silly. I’ve been saving
up all sorts of things to say to you.’
“I can imagine. Dolmant sent me to Lamorkand to
look into something. It took me a little longer than I
expected.’
‘That’s not fair, Sparhawk,’ she accused.
“I didn’t follow that.’
‘You weren’t supposed to say that yet. You’re supposed
to wait until after I’ve demanded an explanation
before you give me one. Now you’ve gone and spoiled
it.’
‘Can you ever forgive me?’ He assumed an expression
of exaggerated contrition and kissed her on the neck.
His wife, he had discovered, loved these little games.
She laughed. ‘I’ll think about it.’ She kissed him back.
The women of his family were a very demonstrative
little group, he decided. ‘All right then,’ she said.
‘You’ve gone and spoiled it anyway, so you might as
well tell me what you were doing, and why you didn’t
send word that you’d be delayed.’
‘Politics, love. You know Dolmant. Lamorkand is right on the verge of
exploding. Sarathi wanted a professional assessment, but he didn’t want
it generally known that I was going there at his instruction. He didn’t
want any messages explaining things floating around.’
“I think it’s time
for me to have a little talk with our revered Archprelate,’ Ehlana said.
‘He seems to have a little trouble remembering just who I am.’ “I don’t
recommend it, Ehlana.’ ‘i’m not going to start a fight with him, my love.
I’m just going to point out to him that he’s ignoring the customary
courtesies. He’s supposed to ask before he commandeers my husband. I’m
getting just a little weary of his imperial Archprelacy, so I’m going to
teach him some manners.’ ‘Can I watch? That might just be a very
interesting conversation. ‘ ‘Sparhawk,’ she said, giving him a
smouldering look, “if you want to avoid an official reprimand, you’re
going
to have to start taking some significant steps to soften
my displeasure.’
“I was just getting to that,’ he told her, enfolding’her
in a tighter embrace.
‘What took you so long?’ she breathed.
It was quite a bit later, and the displeasure of the Queen
of Elenia seemed to be definitely softening. ‘What did
you ‘ find out in Lamorkand, Sparhawk?’ she asked,
stretching languorously. Politics were never really very
far from the queen’s mind.
‘Western Lamorkand’s in turmoil right now. There’s
a count up there – Gerich, his name is. We ran across
him when we were searching for Bhelliom. He was
involved with Martel in one of those elaborate schemes
devised to keep the Militant Orders out of Chyrellos
during the election.’
‘That speaks volumes about this count’s character.’
‘Perhaps, but Martel was very good at manipulating
people. He stirred up a small war between Gerrich and
Patriarch Ortzel’s brother. Anyway, the campaign
appears to have broadened the count’s horizons a bit.
He’s begun to have some thoughts about the throne.’
‘Poor Freddie,’ Ehlana sighed. King Friedahl of
Lamorkand was her distant cousin. ‘You couldn’t give
‘me that throne of his. Why should the Church be concerned,
though? Freddie’s got a large enough army to
deal with one ambitious count.’
“It’s not quite so simple, love. Gerrich has been
concluding alliances with other nobles in western
Lamorkand. He’s amassed an army nearly as big as the
king’s, and he’s been talking with the Pelosian barons
around Lake Venue.’
‘Those bandits,’ she said with a certain contempt.
‘Anybody can buy them.’
‘You’re well-versed in the politics of the region,
Ehlana.’
“I almost have to be, Sparhawk. Pelosia fronts my
northeastern border. Does this current disturbance
threaten us in any way?’
‘Not at the moment. Gerrich has his eyes turned eastward toward
the capital.’
‘Maybe I should offer Freddie an alliance,’ she mused.
‘if general war breaks out in the region, I could snip off
a nice piece of southwestern Pelosia.’
‘Are we developing territorial ambitions, your
Majesty?’
‘Not tonight, Sparhawk,’ she replied. ‘I’ve got other
things on my mind tonight.’ And she reached out to
him again.
It was quite a bit later, almost dawn. Ehlana’s regular
breathing told Sparhawk that she was asleep. He
slipped from the bed and went to the window. His years
of military training made it automatic for him to take a
look at the weather just before daybreak.
The rain had abated, but the wind had picked up. It
was early spring now, and there was little hope for
decent weather for weeks. He was glad that he had
reached home when he had, since the approaching day
looked unpromising. He stared out at the torches flaring
and tossing in the windy courtyard.
As they always did when the weather was bad,
Sparhawk’s thoughts drifted back to the years he had
spent in the sun-blasted city of Jiroch on the arid north
coast of Render where the women, all veiled and robed
in black, went to the well in the steely first light of day
and where the woman named lillias had consumed his
nights with what she chose to call love. He did not,
however, remember that night in Cippria when Martel’s
assassins had quite nearly spilled out his life. He had
settled that score with Martel in the Temple of Azash in
Zemoch, so there was no real purpose in remembering
the stockyard of’ Cippria nor the sound of the monastery
beLs which had called to him out of the darkness.
That momentary sense of being watched, the sense
that had come over him in the narrow street while he
had been on his way to the palace still nagged’ at him.
Something he did not understand was going on, and
he fervently wished that he could talk with Sephrenia