Текст книги "Dragonfly"
Автор книги: Julia Golding
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own rides with Ramil's mother, Zarai, when he was that age. The forest had been magical,
allowing them intimacy and informality away from the rigors of court life. It was a place where
two young royals could remember that they were also girl and boy. There had been a
particularly comfortable bank of moss near the stream. He rather hoped Ramil had found it.
As evening approached, the chamberlain sought an audience with the King.
"Your Majesty, the Blue Crescent delegation is concerned that the Princess has not yet
returned."
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Lagan looked up from his pile of state papers. "Can they allow the child no privacy?"
The chamberlain decided not to answer that question.
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"It appears she has to fulfill an important religious ceremony every evening and her absence is
regarded as most inauspicious."
Lagan threw aside his pen. "Inauspicious, eh? Well, perhaps we'd better send out the guard with
some torches to search for them. Tell the delegation not to worry. I expect they got a little lost
or forgot the time. Let me know when they get back." Lagan rather liked the idea of challenging
the little Princess about her tardiness to see if he could raise a blush under all that silly white
paint.
The guard returned at midnight, having found no trace of either Ramil or the Crown Princess.
Lagan was forced to revise his opinion that their absence was innocent. He had a creeping
conviction that his son had done
something extremely stupid. First time out of the castle: had Ramil bolted?
But then what of the Princess? Surely he would have returned her safely. It was common
courtesy to do so. Ramil may have many faults, but Lagan did not think lack of chivalry to a lady
in his charge was one of them.
He summoned the Blue Crescent delegation to the White Stone Council Chamber so it could
witness and participate in the efforts to discover the young people. The Islanders sat ranged on
the far side of the table from his ministers, their hostility and suspicion like a blistering heat in
the room.
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Lagan realized that they put the fault for whatever had happened squarely on the Prince's
shoulders. He could hardly blame them; his son had done nothing to inspire their confidence,
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quite the contrary. Whatever the truth, it was the responsibility of Gerfal to sort it out.
The Chief Warden of the Forest was also present. He reported that the young Prince and
Princess had been seen galloping into the forest that morning but his wardens had kept aloof as
ordered. No one had noticed them after that.
"Why did no guard accompany the Princess?" snapped the senior priest in the Blue Crescent
delegation.
Lagan wondered if he could explain to this hard-boiled old man the idea of a romantic ride for
two under the greenwood boughs. He decided not to attempt it.
"Prince Ramil does not habitually take a guard when riding in the forest." Not least because no guard could keep up with him when he was in the saddle.
"He was following usual practice. The perimeter of the forest is patrolled by wardens and my
own soldiers. It has always been regarded as safe
anywhere within five miles of Falburg."
" 'Usual practice'–'always regarded'–it appears to us that Your Majesty's judgment has been
proved in error, "cut in the Etiquette Mistress, snapping her fan shut.
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Lagan ignored the slight to his wisdom. "Such are our customs, madam.
However, this is getting us nowhere. We must send out all available men. I want the Royal
Forest searched all the way to the mountain passes. Every village, every traveller, every cave,
den or hiding place is to be examined."
He turned to the delegation. "Would you like to send your own men to participate?"
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The chief priest nodded. "I have five hundred sailors awaiting my orders."
"Good. Send them to the chief warden here and he will distribute them among the teams."
The council meeting broke up. Lagan retired to his private room and filled a wine glass with a
shaking hand. He was hoping that his son had proved honorable and that none of this was his
fault. Desertion now, coupled with losing the Princess, would mean war with Taoshira's people–
there was no doubt about it. Twenty Crescent ships were in possession of his main harbor, in a
prime position to bombard the city and destroy the capital. But if his hope proved to be correct,
then that meant Ramil was detained against his will. His son was in danger.
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Chapter 4
Many hours after nightfall, the door of the cage was opened and a tiny man appeared with a
lantern. "You're to get out now if you want food and a wash," he announced in a squeaky voice.
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With a glance at each other, Tashi and Ramil got up. The Prince jumped down first, then offered
his hand to help Tashi to the ground. She let go quickly, wrapping his cloak more securely
around her shoulders as she surveyed the scene before them.
An odd collection of some twenty people were eating a late supper around the campfire. A giant
of a man with a big bushy beard was playing cards with three wiry-looking individuals; acrobats,
Tashi guessed. An old woman sat by the pot, her hair in long grey ringlets. She had a scarlet scarf
tied around her middle and gold rings in her ears. Her clothes were ancient and patched but she
was in possession of a fine pair of new boots. Tashi's boots.
Sensing the Princess's scrutiny, the old woman gave her an implacable stare. She then tapped
her pipe
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on the heel of her left boot and chuckled. Tashi dropped her gaze to her own bare feet.
A handsome man with long dark sideburns strode forward. He had a fur cape thrown carelessly
over one shoulder, brilliant red tunic, and knee-length brown boots that had seen better days.
Tashi glanced resentfully at Prince Ramil's footwear and wondered why he was still in ownership
of them when hers had been taken.
"Prince Ramil, it is an honor to welcome you to our fireside," declared the man with a flourishing bow, ignoring Tashi. "I apologize for the abruptness of our invitation but my master said we
were to bring you with all speed."
Ramil tapped his hands angrily by his sides. The man had a Brigardian accent and had already
revealed that he knew full well who his prisoner was. Any hope that this was a mistake was
extinguished.
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"You will be hanged for your actions unless you release the Princess and myself immediately,"
Ramil said curtly.
The man put his hand to his brow. "It pains me to refuse a royal command but I am acting under
orders from my superior. For the moment, I suggest you make the best of it and join me by the
fire. You must be hungry–thirsty too, I expect. Come. It will be necessary to return you to your
less than luxurious quarters in a short while, so make the most of this brief reprieve."
Seeing the sense of this, Ramil turned to allow the Princess to precede him to the fire. In the
light, he saw
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for the first time that she had the most striking mane of long fair hair.
"Oh no, not her," the man said, taking a step to separate them. "I do not allow Western demons to sit with my people. She can eat on her own."
"Then I eat with her," announced Ramil, roused to anger on the Princess's behalf.
"No, you dine with me." The man produced a knife and felt its edge, drawing blood on his
thumb. "A Gerfalian prince is a worthy companion but a Blue Crescent woman is hardly human.
They feel nothing, have you not noticed?"
He waved at Tashi. "See, she says nothing–does nothing. We took her robes and she did not
complain. We threw her in with Kosind and she did not scream. It's unnatural. Leave her."
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The man hooked the Prince's arm in his and began to drag him away.
"I will stay with the Princess!" Ramil struggled to free himself.
Tashi turned her back on the fire, feeling so weary of these Easterners. She hardly cared for the
man's insults. How could such a one understand her?
There was no need for the Prince to risk injury on her behalf. In any case, she preferred to eat
alone.
"Go with him, Prince Ramil. I am content."
Tashi sat cross-legged on the ground, too far from the campfire to benefit from its warmth.
Looking up at the stars, she realized how late it was and she had not yet said the evening
service. The Mother would understand but Tashi knew she should delay no longer.
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Preparing herself, she rose to her knees and began quietly to say the words, miming the action
of the ringing bell as none was available. At first, no one noticed her humble ceremony, but then
the little man who had fetched them from their prison came over with a bowl of food. He put it
down but she continued without a pause, her hands sketching circles in the air before her.
This amused him so he fetched some of his friends from the fireside: the strong man, Gordoc,
and the tiger tamer, Pashvin. The tamer prodded Tashi with his whip but she did not break off
her prayer.
"See, it's as Orboyd says, less than human." Pashvin chuckled, sitting down to watch.
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The big man leant forward and fingered a strand of Tashi's long blonde hair.
"Pretty color," he murmured.
"See if you can make her squeal," suggested Tighe, the dwarf.
Gordoc grinned and put his mouth to the Princess's ear. "Boo!" he whispered.
Tashi closed her eyes. These men were no more than flies buzzing in a room, beneath her
regard. She had to complete the last prayer or her people would suffer.
Pashvin lifted the heavy hank of hair from her back and blew on her neck.
Getting no response, he let go and shrugged.
"She's no flesh and blood woman," he concluded.
Tashi came to the final blessing, giving the response that usually fell to her attendants. "As the Goddess wills."
It was at that moment that Gordoc decided to stroke
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her hair. Tashi emerged from her prayer to feel a large hand on the back of her head. Without
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thinking, she swung round and slapped the big man hard on the side of his face, then jumped up
and stalked away. Pashvin rolled around on the floor, howling with laughter.
"Maybe she's . . . half human," he said through gasps.
Gordoc set off in pursuit. "Aw, come back, my pretty one, I meant no harm."
The altercation caught the attention of Ramil, Orboyd, and the others by the fireside. Seeing
Tashi pursued by the giant man, the Prince leapt up. Swiftly, Orboyd kicked Ramil's feet from
under him and shifted the grip on his knife to prick him in the ribs.
"Settle down. He won't harm her. Let him have his fun," Orboyd ordered.
Ramil tried to get up a second time but the circus leader kicked him back again with an
exasperated sigh.
"Anyway, why should you care? It was no secret that you didn't want her.
You've no liking for these Blue Crescent women any more than I have. I wager neither of us
would say no to a handsome Eastern girl, but these fair-haired witches don't please a man."
Ramil rolled onto his knees.
"But I can't let you treat her like that. She's my guest. Any insult to her is an insult to the ac Burinholt royal family!"
"I'm sorry you feel like that, Prince, because it's no use getting all hot and bothered about her.
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She's no longer your problem. Lads, sit on our guest here."
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The three acrobats moved so quickly that Ramil had no chance to escape.
He found himself pinned to the ground by their combined weight.
"I was going to have to tie you up anyway. We're expecting company and unfortunately we need
to gag you." Orboyd produced a silk handkerchief and knotted it around Ramil's mouth. Next he
roped his hands and feet. "Put him back in with Kosind and cover him up," he ordered the
acrobats.
Carried like a rolled carpet, Ramil was put in the cage. His ropes were fixed tightly hand and foot
to rings on the floor, and finally he was buried under a layer of straw. Uncomfortable though he
was, he was tormented by fears for the Princess. If they treated him like this–a person they
considered an equal–what would they do to someone they considered a witch?
Gordoc cornered Tashi by the magician's wagon. She knew it was no good screaming. Who
would help her? Ramil was useless–she expected nothing from him. She gripped the sides of the
wagon behind her and closed her eyes tight, wishing the man away. She felt a big hand touch
the side of her face, just where she had struck him, then move to stroke her hair. She
shuddered.
"See, I just wanted to touch your hair. Like gold, it is. Please don't run away.
You can trust me to protect you. Come back and eat your supper. I'll tell the others not to tease
you." He took her hand and towed her after him. A few of the campers looked up in interest as
they returned to the fire.
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"Catch the witch, did you?" called out Orboyd.
Gordoc grunted. "You're not a witch, are you, Princess?"
Tashi shook her head.
"She's just scared of us."
Orboyd laughed. "Scared of you, more like."
Gordoc smiled proudly at his princess. "Oh no, I've given my word I'll not let you lot harm her.
She knows she can trust me." The big man picked up her bowl and thrust it at her. "Here, eat.
You have to go back in with the other one in a moment so you'd better get that down you."
Tashi ate quickly, trying to hide her movements by letting her veil of hair flop forwards, but
Gordoc brushed it back, out of her way. He then led her to a tent so she could wash and use the
privy, then guided her back to the wagon. Orboyd was waiting, holding a rope and scarf.
"I'll do that," said Gordoc. "There now, that's not too tight?" Once Tashi was bound and gagged, he scooped her up in his arms, climbed the steps back into the cage, and placed her gently on
the floor next to Ramil. "Make not a sound now and I'll let you out of here as soon as we've got
to safety." He scattered the straw over her like a blessing.
The night seemed endless to Tashi. Lying on the wooden floor, pricked and near suffocated by
straw, she tried to come to terms with what she was experiencing. None of her training had
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prepared her for this. No one here saw any of the things in her that her own
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people believed; she was not respected, listened to, or loved. So what did that make her? A
demon, according to Orboyd. But she knew she was loved by the Mother; she couldn't be evil,
even if other people fixed such labels to her. A pretty pet to the big man who had sensed her
fear? But Tashi, raised in a land of matriarchs, revolted at the idea.
I suppose I'm left with me, whoever that is these days, she thought bleakly.
Ramil could hear the Princess breathing next to him but was tortured by the fact that he could
not speak to her, not even to ask if she was unharmed. He owed it to her at least to think of
some way of escaping. They were still in Gerfal, heading down to the mountains that formed the
border with Brigard.
The alarm must have been raised by now and his people would be combing the land for them. It
was inconceivable that a caravan such as this would be missed before it reached the border.
At dawn he heard the sound he had been expecting all night: the approach of horsemen.
"Ho there, travellers!" called a Gerfalian soldier. "We have orders from the King to search all vehicles on the roads this day."
"But of course," said Orboyd at his most generous. "We are a peaceful group with nothing to hide. Conduct your search and welcome."
Ramil writhed in his bonds but he was so tightly bound and gagged he could do nothing to alert
them to
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his presence. He heard the tramp of feet and good natured banter as the soldiers passed the
time with the circus people.
"Found anything?" asked Orboyd casually from outside the wagon.
"No," replied the soldier. "What's in there?" He thumped the side of the wagon.
"Our tiger, Kosind. You're welcome to go in." Orboyd lifted the canvas on the front of the wagon, letting in the daylight. The tiger rose on its haunches, stretched and yawned.
The soldier peered into the cage. "It stinks in there!"
"That's wild animals for you. Shall I fetch the key?"
The soldier shook his head. "No, that wil do."
Orboyd dropped the canvas back down.
Ramil cursed the soldier. Sweat was running off him as he pulled on his ropes. This was their last
chance!
Then he heard a thud. Tied less tightly, the girl beside him had enough freedom of movement to
hit her head and heels on the floor in a regular beat– Thud-thud-thud! Thud-thud-thud!
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"What's that?" asked the soldier suspiciously.
"Tiger's tail thumping. Means he's hungry," replied Orboyd coolly.
The girl changed the rhythm– Thud-thud! Thud-thud!
"I think perhaps we had better take another look at that hungry cat of yours."
The soldier took a firm grip on the canvas.
"That is a shame." There was a hiss of breath and the
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sound of a body falling to the ground. "I do so hate shedding blood this early in the day," said Orboyd.
Further away, another man shouted but his scream broke off abruptly.
A short while later, the door to the wagon flew open. Ramil's bindings were yanked free and he
was dragged, still half-covered in straw, down the steps and out into the clearing. Tashi was
dumped beside him. In front of them lay the bodies of a Gerfalian forest warden and a Crescent
sailor.
"Look what you made us do!" raged Orboyd, his hands still red with the warden's blood. "We were trying to do this the kind way–no one getting hurt, just a quick dash for the border and
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goodbye. We are peaceful people and you made us kill these men!"
Ramil now noticed that the dwarf, Tighe, was wiping a bloodied knife on a rag. It seemed that he
had been responsible for despatching the sailor.
"I cannot have this. You must play by my rules or there'll have to be more killing." Orboyd seized the whip from the tiger tamer. "Which one of you made that noise? I've got to punish you or
you'll force me to kill again and I don't like it!" He ripped the gag off Tashi, then Ramil. "I hope, Your Highness, it was the witch. I don't want to lay a finger on you if I can help it."
"It was me!" Ramil said quickly.
"He lies. It was me," Tashi said, appealing with a look to Gordoc.
The big man strode forward. "You're not harming
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the girl!" He snatched the whip from Orboyd's hand and threw it back to Pashvin.
"You forget yourself, Gordoc. I say who gets punished and who doesn't!"
thundered Orboyd, going eye to eye with the giant.
The old woman strode over, still wearing Tashi's boots, and spat at the ground in front of her.
"You're wasting time, Orboyd. Now you've killed these men, others will be after us. We've got to
get to the border by nightfall.
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There's time enough for punishment when we get to Brigard."
Orboyd broke away from Gordoc. "All right, Minka, all right, we'll settle this later. Hide the
bodies. Set the horses loose. Gordoc, put our guests back in the cage and tie them up properly
this time."
The bodies of the warden and the sailor were not found until the evening.
Ramil's and Tashi's riderless horses were discovered not long after, trotting back towards the
castle. King Lagan heard the news with dismay. It seemed clear that Ramil and the young
Princess were victims of some terrible crime.
He regretted now that he had doubted his son even for a moment. Were their bodies waiting to
be found too? Fearing the worst, he ordered the search to be intensified. Every wagon was
unpacked, every traveller questioned; all that is except for the cage belonging to one very
hungry-looking tiger. The border guard had peered inside and decided that no one could be in
there and live. Besides, the circus people were friendly folk, free with their food 78
and wine, in no rush to pass over the border to Brigard. They did not act like fugitives with
something to hide.
Once in Brigard, the neighboring country recently conquered by Fergox Spearthrower, Ramil and
Tashi were untied and taken out of the cage. The mood of the circus people lightened now that
the immediate danger of discovery had passed. They were travelling through spectacular
mountain scenery: soaring peaks, snow-covered slopes, and thick forests of pine trees. They had
to climb high to cross the range. The air was icy but the weather fine. Gordoc insisted that Tashi
ride beside him for protection, snugly wrapped up in his fur rug. Ramil could see her now in the
wagon ahead of him, her long fair hair streaming down her back in a ripple of gold.
He'd had no opportunity to talk to her–not that they had anything to say to each other–for he
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was now the travelling companion of Orboyd. The circus leader had taken the precaution of
chaining his guest to the wagon, but then proceeded to treat him like a favored friend, chatting
about Brigard, the fluctuating fortunes of his little band, his plans for the future. He regarded
Gerfalians as natural friends to the Brigardians, lamented the political circumstances that
temporarily put them at odds, looked forward to the day when those differences would be
settled by Gerfal bowing to the inevitable and submitting to Fergox. He referred often to his
master and hinted that Ramil would be seeing him soon.
"Who is your master?" Ramil asked frequently. "A Brigardian noble with a grudge against Gerfal?"
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Orboyd refused to be drawn. "I'm under orders not to say. But I assure you he will treat you as
befits a royal prince of noblest lineage. And one day, when you are King, I will be able to point to
you and say 'that man rode on my wagon.'"
Ramil thought it best not to mention that if he lived to be King he'd make sure that Orboyd was
caught and tried for his crime against the royal person, so he was unlikely to live to enjoy his
association.
"And the Princess? What does your master want with her?"
Orboyd shrugged, not very interested in that question. "Don't know. Hostage perhaps? He
doesn't like the Blue Crescent Islanders, but then who does, except perhaps their mothers?"
"Gordoc appears to like the Princess," Ramil suggested quietly. He was sick of hearing such
derogatory remarks about the Islanders from Orboyd, not least because they were
uncomfortably like his own comments made back in the palace.
"Oh, Gordoc." Orboyd snorted. "He's soft-hearted. Nursed an abandoned leveret this spring only 81
to cry buckets when he stood on it. I wouldn't pay much attention to him."
Tashi, meanwhile, sat beside the giant, letting his friendly talk wash over her. He let her mumble
her prayers at the appointed time, did not mock or try to startle her. He just occasionally stroked
her hair as if he could not believe its color and had to test that it was real.
She spent the time meditating on her anger. The
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murder of those two men in the forest had shocked her deeply. She was angry with her
abductors, but most of her rage was directed at all Gerfalians, and one in particular. No one
need have died if they had done their job of guarding her properly. How like Prince Ramil's
people to let the caravan over the border without even a proper search! The prince had been
useless as she anticipated and now seemed quite content to sit fraternizing with Orboyd when
he should be doing something before they got too far from Gerfal. What it was exactly she
expected him to do, she didn't know, but something, anything!
"Gordoc, do you know where we are going?" she asked hours later.
The giant almost dropped his reins, so surprised was he to hear his little travelling companion
speak. She had a nice voice too–soft and gentle.
"We're going to meet him," he replied. "That's all I know."
"Who's him?"
"The master."
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"Do you know his name?"
"Aw, little one, I can't tell you that." Gordoc passed her an apple.
Tashi twisted it in her fingers. "Can you tell me if he is a big master, like King Lagan, or a little master, like Orboyd?"
Gordoc chuckled. "You're trying to catch me out, aren't you? Well, he's nothing like Orboyd.
Much, much bigger. But never you mind, you'll meet him soon enough."
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Ramil persuaded Orboyd to let him join the Princess for a short time that evening as they made
camp. When he approached her spot by the tiger wagon, he found she no longer ate alone.
Tighe, Pashvin, and Gordoc sat around her with their bowls, watching her like an audience, even
exchanging critical observations about her performance of the ritual.
"She did that one beautifully," remarked Tighe as Tashi made a sinuous gesture with her hands.
"I thought yesterday's was a little more pronounced," Pashvin noted with the air of an expert.
"Today's is more subtle."
"She does everything beautifully," breathed an enraptured Gordoc.
Ramil sat down quietly and waited for her to finish. He admired her concentration with all these
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onlookers. Finally, he recognized the Crescent words of completion, having heard them often
enough from the delegation.
"As the Goddess wills," he muttered in Common.
Tashi folded her hands in her lap.
"Do you mock me for praying, Prince Ramil?" she asked.
"No, I thought I was being polite." Did she have to be so hostile? he wondered.
"I was told by your prime minister that you say 'God willing.'"
"We do, but I was trying to . . . oh, does it matter?"
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Ramil felt exasperated: he'd extended the olive branch only to have it snapped.
"Actually, it does matter," Tashi said simply. She was feeling more at peace with the world now that she had done her prayers. "My beliefs are important to me and if you are treating them
with respect that . . . well, that's an improvement."
Was it possible? Had a glimmer of a smile just appeared on her lips? Ramil thought.
"Now, you're laughing at me, Princess," said Ramil. "You think me an ignorant boor."
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"You are an ignorant boor, Prince Ramil."
Gordoc's mouth was hanging open. "She speaks so well, doesn't she, Pashvin?"
The tiger tamer nodded, fascinated by the exchange.
"Was that a joke at my expense, Your Highness?" Ramil asked.
"I thought you were the expert on jokes. You tell me." Tashi picked up her bowl and began
eating.
"When you put it like that, then I suppose, no, it wasn't really a joke because it's true." Ramil stretched out on the grass. "I'm a disgrace to my name. Been drunk half the time ever since I
was told I was to marry you. Managed to insult you and all your countrymen from the moment
of our first meeting–if not before. Add all that up and I suppose it does equal ignorant boor."
His honesty pulled on a thread in the knot of anger inside her, loosening it a little. She hadn't
expected him to see himself so clearly.
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"I'm sorry you hated the idea of marrying me, Your Highness. I wasn't that keen on marrying you
either," she admitted.
"I can imagine," Ramil said dryly.
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Their eyes met for the first time in understanding.
"It seems as though that will no longer be a problem for either of us.
Someone has other plans," she said.
"So it would appear." Ramil rose. "Princess." He bowed and returned to the fire.
Through her eyelashes, Tashi watched him go. Perhaps he was not all bad.
She remembered that he had tried to take the punishment for her yesterday and given her his
cloak. He did appear to be attempting, as far as it was in his nature, to be polite to her. Added to
that, he was the closest thing she had to an ally in the camp if they were to get free.
Escape? Was it possible? She thought about the road they had come down today: a harsh road
through the mountains. Even if she did slip away, she'd not get very far on foot before she was
caught. Still, she'd have to try as soon as an opportunity offered. Whatever lay at the end of this
journey was unlikely to be good news for her or her people.
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