Текст книги "Dragonfly"

Автор книги: Julia Golding

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

Chapter 11

Merl ordered his servant to bring hot water and leave it outside the wash tent. Draping a towel

over Tashi's shoulders, he poured a warm jugful over her hair, whisking it expertly from her neck

and letting it drip into the basin.

She wondered where he had learned the skill of washing a woman's hair but did not dare ask.

Neither of them spoke as he massaged in some perfumed soap, his fingers lingering as they

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brushed the nape of her neck. Tashi felt goosebumps all down her spine and prayed that he

would not notice her response to his touch. Rinsing the suds from her hair, he then applied the

dye. The water turned orange-red in the bowl.

"The professor is an expert in dreaming up these disguises. A very useful ally," Merl said,

breaking the silence as he wrapped a towel around her damp hair. "I'm in charge of our spy

network in Mollinder and, thanks to the professor, we are able to give our agents a new

appearance when needed.

He even has a dye for skin to make you as dark as your friend, Prince Ramii, 193

though I would hate to see that on you. Your skin is beautiful–the color of milk."

Tashi knew that her cheeks were definitely not the color of milk–more the color of raspberries.

No man spoke to a woman like this in the Islands.

Courting was done by the exchange of poetry and hints. Merl was about as subtle as a brass

band.

"Too much flattery, sir," she replied, shifting to finger-dry her hair in front of the stove.

Merl took a comb and began to untangle her locks. "You cannot have too much flattery, Your

Highness. I speak only the truth. I fear you have been neglected if you think my praise excessive.

A beautiful woman should hear such words from all her admirers. There!" He stepped back.

"Now all you need are some clothes. I have sent for some to be laid out for you in my chamber.

Allow me to show you where that is."

He offered his arm and led her to his room. On the bed was a long green gown, scoop-necked in

Eastern fashion.

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"I'll leave you to change," he said, kissing her fingers.

Tashi slipped out of her shirt and pulled the gown over her head. It fell in a full skirt from her

hips and was cinched by a belt embroidered with white lilies. She guessed it must have once

belonged to one of the ladies of the ac Mollinder family. Pacing to the mirror, she presented

herself for inspection, amazed and confused by the transformation. She was used to seeing

herself in the many layers of the Blue Crescent robes; now she stood in a gown that clung to

every curve of her body. Her

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neck felt exposed. She knew from Fergox's court that this was normal for a lady in these lands,

but it made her self-conscious. And her hair: it now rippled over her shoulders, shining with a

copper flame.

Merl coughed outside the door. "May I enter?"

"Yes, I'm ready," Tashi replied, though she felt far from prepared to meet anyone just yet.

Merl stood in the doorway and paused dramatically, holding out his hands.

"You are a vision of loveliness, Princess. You were beautiful in your rags; you are radiant in your riches. My little cousin indeed."

"I'm not sure," Tashi said, putting her hands to her cheeks. "It's not how an Islander would dress."

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"Exactly. You're an honorary Brigardian now. Trust me, you will do very well."

He escorted her back to where the others were waiting.

"May I present her ladyship, the copper lily of the ac Mollinder family."

The men rose on her entrance, Ramil wide-eyed, Gordoc beaming proudly, but Nerul looked sad.

"It was my mother's dress," he said softly, leading her to a cushion beside him. "But I think she would be pleased to see you wearing it, cousin, as it becomes you so well."

Ramil was not pleased when Merl made the suggestion that the Princess, as suited her role as

family member, be provided with quarters in the commander's tent.

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"Surely you see, Prince, that it will be easier to hide your presence among us if we separate

you?" Merl said smoothly. "We can say you are a mercenary soldier come from the southern

desert. Our giant here is Brigardian so no one will wonder that he joined us."

As much as Ramil hated the idea of leaving Tashi to be sweet-talked by a man he had decided

was an unbearable flirt, he could think of no sensible protest to raise against what was a sound

plan.

"Will you be all right, Tashi?" Ramil asked, which was his way of enquiring if she minded being abandoned to Merl's assiduous attentions.

"I'll manage," she replied, amused by Ramil's sullen expression. She knew that Ramil had never 202

desired her as a woman–he'd been quick enough to make his distaste plain back in Gerfal–so

she thought he was being merely protective of her. That he might be jealous did not cross her

mind.

"You clearly have ways of getting news from Gerfal, Your Grace," Tashi said, turning to her host.

"Is it possible to pass a message to my people and to King Lagan to tell them we are safe?"

"There are Brigardian exiles in Falburg who keep me informed of court gossip," Nerul explained.

"We have a number of ways of communicating but in winter most news comes via the fishing

fleet as the mountain passes are closed. You can certainly send a message that way."

"And could we return by sea?" Ramil asked eagerly.

Nerul shook his head. "Your chances of success are slight. The Pirate Fleet searches every vessel and is being

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very thorough since your escape. Coded messages may pass where people cannot."

"Pehaps Prince Ramil might be able to hide himself amongst a crew?"

suggested Merl. "But I'm afraid the Princess would stand out–there are no women on board

those boats."

Ramil was not going to let the Brigardian noble separate him from Tashi so easily.

"I gave my word to the Princess that we would escape together so I will not abandon her in

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Brigard. If I did this, her people would probably declare war–

and rightly so–as Gerfal is to blame for allowing her to be abducted in the first place. No, if we

travel to Gerfal, we go together. But not by sea, it would seem."

"Not by sea," echoed Nerul. "But there is still much that can be done as we wait for word from your father. Fergox will not sit still while the snow falls.

This is the time of preparation before he unleashes his forces. We should make that interval as

difficult for him as possible."

"Upset Fergox?" Ramil lay back on his cushion and grinned. "I like the sound of that. Count me in."

Tashi felt at ease in the tent room that had been given over to her. For the first time in Brigard

she was in a space both comfortable and simple. Her bed was a canvas stretched over poles,

warm and soft with ample cushions and sweet-smelling blankets. Hangings woven with golden

flax and marsh flowers decorated

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the walls, making the chamber feel as if it belonged to this landscape, a hidden corner of the

Fens. More dresses had been found for her and a fur-lined cloak, but best of all a pair of snug-

fitting leather shoes.

Left alone to perform her rituals in the privacy of her room, she found new peace in saying the

prayers. In prison, the rituals had become a distressing process which she forced herself to

complete out of duty. Then had come the dark days of doubt, when every word felt like a curse

upon her. Now trusting, as Ramil had suggested, that the Goddess's way still lay before her even

if it was leading her down strange paths, she relaxed and lingered in the beauty and tranquillity

of the ancient liturgy. She began to see new depths to the movements, understanding that the

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gestures were not just punctuations to the speech but prayers themselves, like a symbolic

dance.

Sitting back after having completed the morning ritual, Tashi dwelt upon the lessons she was

learning. Her experience of faith had not been so pure or simple since her hillside prayers as a

child.

This must be good, she thought, this must be what the Goddess is teaching me. Remembering

how she had fretted in the palace on Rama, burdened with the demands of her office, she could

see herself far more clearly now that it had been taken away from her. She had tried so hard,

too hard, to be what others expected her to be, that she had forgotten that the only one she had

to please was the Goddess. And one thing Tashi now knew was that the Goddess did not care for

the ritual

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but what was inside the heart of the believer who performed it.

"Thank you for the lesson, Mother," Tashi murmured, "but did you have to go to such extremes to teach me?"

No answer–but it was not an empty, angry silence like before in Fergox's prison. Nature

continued calmly on its business outside, the reeds rustling, the wind whispering, and children

laughing in the distance.

"I suppose that means that you had your reasons, Mother." Tashi concluded her prayer time by putting her palms together, then pushing them out and dropping her hands to her knees. She

bowed low so that her forehead touched the rug. Opening her eyes, she found that she had not

been so private as she thought. During her meditation, someone had placed a sprig of winter

greenery on her pillow. Threaded through it was a thin gold chain with a tiny key on the end.

Having seen this around the camp on flags and uniforms, Tashi guessed this was the ac

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Mollinder family symbol.

So was it a gift, or part of her disguise–perhaps both? Tashi stood before her mirror and

fastened it around her neck. The chain was long, the charm disappearing down the front of her

dress, resting on her breastbone.

Leaving her chamber in search of breakfast, Tashi found Merl waiting for her at the table. His

eyes fell on the necklace and he gave a smile, making no comment.

"Now, fair cousin," Meri said when she had finished eating, "wouid you like me to show you the delights of our camp? That should occupy, oh, half an hour of your time."

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"Thank you. I would like that. But I would also like to make myself useful. Is there any task I can do?"

Merl gave her his most brilliant smile. "I would like nothing better than to have you beside me

as a helpmate. Indeed, I have much tedious work for the pen and you would free up a man for

fighting if you would do this."

"Then that is settled. I wil help you with your intelligence work."

"And now, for your tour of our little dukedom."

Merl proved to be an entertaining and informative guide. He showed her the armory and the

forge where the smiths were hard at work, bare-chested in the freezing weather, hammering

new blades and shoeing the resistance's horses. They stopped in the communal kitchens–tables

under a pavilion and open-air stoves– to taste the bread offered by an apple-cheeked cook. At

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the school for the camp children, Professor Norling stood at the blackboard in front of the oldest

pupils. Their math lesson was most unconventional as he had them working out the amount of

explosive required to take out the supports of a local bridge.

"An interesting topic," Tashi remarked in a low voice.

"You should see the practical," Merl commented dryly as he led her away.

The last area he took her to was the stables. Outside, the fighters were honing their skills in

armed and unarmed combat. Again Tashi was

impressed to see women among the fighters. Her own army comprised half men

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and half women, but she had thought the Easterners did not allow their females into battle. She

expressed this view to Merl.

He laughed. "That is true in normal times, but we are not a conventional army. Our women

number among our best and most effective agents, getting into the houses of some of our key

targets."

"You use them as assassins?" Tashi watched enviously as one dark-haired girl not much older

than she was floored a man twice her size.

"Yes. They can also cause havoc in markets and barrack cookhouses, places where it is harder for

a man to go unnoticed. And as messengers they are invaluable."

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Tashi spotted Ramil among the men practicing with swords. He glanced once in their direction

but then ignored them, redoubling his attack on the unfortunate man who had volunteered to

be his partner.

"Ramil knows how to wield his blade," remarked Merl, watching him critically.

"Yes, he bested the Inkar in the practice courts. She thought him a match for Fergox," said Tashi, admiring the Prince's elegant pattern of strikes.

"He should perhaps ease up a little though," said Nerul, striding up behind them. "I do not want one of my best men in the infirmary." He bowed to Tashi. "Good morning, cousin."

"Good morning, Your Grace."

"I have a messenger leaving for the coast today if you would like to send word to your people.

Merl here will show you our codes."

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"Thank you."

Merl held out his arm. "Let us return to our desk, cousin, and I will induct you into the delights of the codebook."

The following days, Tashi spent much of her time with Merl, reading correspondence,

summarizing reports for Nerul, and generally managing the information coming into the

resistance headquarters from all over Brigard and beyond. Merl made sure she saw all

communications concerning the search for her and Ramil. Fergox had despatched hunters over

the

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surrounding areas, concentrating on the paths to the mountains and to the coast. He was

reported to be increasingly frustrated by the lack of information or sign of his fugitives. The

soldiers who had been on duty and survived the escape attempt were the least fortunate for

they had been executed the following day and their bodies now hung on the battlements as a

warning to others. Spies said that the Inkar Yellowtooth had killed a man on the practice courts

in her fury at the loss of her favorite horse.

Tashi said a prayer for the soul of all those who died, even though they were her enemies. She

hoped the Inkar's victim had not been her trainer who, though stern, had always been fair to her

under the rules of his faith.

Sifting through the papers, Tashi began to enjoy her work, finding she had an aptitude for

translating codes

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back into Common. Concentrating hard on a defined task like this took her mind off her

precarious position and made her feel useful–a pleasant change from the last few months. She

also expanded her knowledge of parts of the Empire to the south of Brigard: the warmer climes

of the forested Kandar, the Inkar's domain given to her by her brother after his first conquest;

the slave plantations of the lands around the Inland Sea and the heart of the Empire, the capital

Tigral. She even read despatches from those who had travelled all the way to the edges of the

Southern Desert, an ungovernable land inhabited by a nomadic people cal ed the Horse Fol

owers, the tribe from which Ramil's mother had come. They were no friends to Fergox, but kept

themselves hidden in their desert, beyond the march of any army foolish enough to attempt to

cross that waterless expanse. As yet, they stood apart from the resistance, wishing it well but

considering it none of their business.

The only shadow over her days in Nerul's tent was the continuing campaign by Merl to win her

favor. He was witty, kind, complimentary and Tashi was not impervious to the charm of being

gently wooed by a handsome man. Yet she found it all very confusing, not certain of her own

part in this game. In the Islands, his behavior would have been an affront; here it seemed that

gifts and sweet-talking were an accepted part of life between men and women, not even

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necessarily meaning courtship. He presented her with a ribbon for her hair and tied it on

himself; he caressed her fingers

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on handing her papers, leant over her as she worked so that his breath tickled her neck. He'd

even once kissed her playfully to congratulate her on her first mistake-free translation. She had

been stunned at the familiarity, wondering if she should protest, but he had moved on quickly to

another subject as if it had all meant nothing. It was most perplexing.

After seven days of this treatment, she decided to go to her friends for advice. As Easterners,

Ramil and Gordoc should be able to tell her how to respond to these approaches. She sought

them out in Melletin's tent after dark one evening, taking care not to be seen by anyone as she

crossed the camp. Her luck was in: they were alone, tending their weapons, checking straps and

sharpening blades.

"May I come in?" she asked shyly, leaning on a walking stick.

Gordoc jumped up. "Princess, of course you may join Old Gordoc and Ram.

We've been wondering what had become of you." He guided her to the cushions. "We thought

you'd quite forgotten us."

She shook her head. "Of course I hadn't but it would look strange for a cousin of Nerul to spend

too much time with mercenaries. I have my family's reputation to think of."

"How's the leg?" Ramil asked tersely, not looking at her.

Tashi thought his manner cold but put it down to their being affronted by her failure to call on

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them earlier. "Much better, thank you. The stitches have 204

been taken out. I think I'm fit again, though Professor Norling still wants to cosset me a while

longer."

"So what have you been doing closeted with Merl all week?" Ramil enquired, polishing his blade vigorously.

She raised an eyebrow. "How did you know about that?"

"The camp gossip. They're talking of how he's hardly left your side."

She rubbed her ankles, pulling her knees to her chest. "Actually, that is what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh, yes?" Ramil's tone was stil hostile.

Tashi turned to Gordoc's more friendly face. "I'm a stranger to your ways and I wondered if you

could tell me about . . . well, you know . . . how men and women treat each other here."

Ramil dropped his sword with a clatter. He grabbed it up again swiftly.

"What do you want to know, my pretty?" Gordoc asked, his expression one of puzzlement. "Do you want me to scare Merl off–thump him for you? Just tell him your Uncle Gordoc will have

words with him if he offends you."

"No, no, I don't mean that." Tashi smiled. "He's not insulted me–at least, not by Eastern 211

standards, I suppose." She wrinkled her nose.

"What's he done?" growled Ramil.

"Well, first there's the gifts–flowers and jewelry, mainly. What should I say when he gives me

things?"

"Thank you' usually does the trick," said Gordoc

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bluntly. "That's what the girls I know do. They put them away for a rainy day."

"So it doesn't mean anything if I accept them?"

"It means you are encouraging his attentions. Do you want to encourage him?" Ramil asked,

mustering all his self-control. She was free to be romanced by whoever she liked, he reminded

himself, though he really wanted to tell her to throw the gifts back at the red-haired, fox-faced

flirt.

Tashi shrugged. Ramil now noticed she had a new chain around her neck–a costly one by the

looks of it.

"I don't know." She sighed. "I want to be nice to him. I'm grateful for all that he's done for me."

"And what else has he done?" Ramil couldn't keep the suspicion from his voice, but Tashi did not seem to notice.

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"Well, he pays me extravagant compliments all the time–"

"That usually means nothing," Ramil advised. "Not that they aren't deserved," he added hastily.

"Don't you start!" Tashi laughed. "But the thing that worries me most are his kisses."

"Kisses!" Ramil jumped up and strode to the other side of the room.

Tashi frowned. "Is that very shocking? I thought it might be but I wasn't sure."

"What kind of kisses?" Ramil sounded as if someone was strangling him.

"Oh, just light ones on my hands and neck a couple of times, once on my lips."

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"And did you kiss him back?"

"Ram! Of course I didn't! What do you take me for? I just wasn't sure what was allowed and

what wasn't. He always does it in a very respectful way."

"It's never respectful to kiss a girl on the lips, Tashi," Ramil warned her.

"He's taking advantage of your ignorance."

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Tashi bit her lip. "Oh."

"But if you like him, my pretty, it is not wrong to kiss," Gordoc said fairly, stretching out on the cushions with a reminiscent smile.

"It would be very wrong back at home. We never touch our admirers and only accept poems and

paper flowers," Tashi told him.

"Kissing is nice. It's fun," Gordoc continued. "But you must not let him do any more unless you want to bed him."

"Gordoc!" Tashi was now blushing bright red, as was Ramil. "I didn't come here for that kind of advice."

Gordoc looked confused. He propped himself up on his elbow. "Where I come from, Tashi, men

and women bed each other first, then wed when they have children. No one wants a barren

wife. Merl may wish to find this out."

Tashi got up. "I'm not. . . that wasn't what I meant." She got up, fastening her cloak with clumsy fingers. "Forget I asked."

She limped out quickly. Gordoc raised an eyebrow at Ramil who was still standing on the other

side of the tent.

"Did I say something wrong?" he asked.

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