Текст книги " The White Gryphon"

Автор книги: Mercedes Lackey

Соавторы: Ларри Диксон
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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

I'm just as glad he's not. He's more than a bit too direct for a situation like this one.

"In any event, if we do this in public, and everything came out well, we still must have Makke's part of the story—and that makes her a conspicuous target for anger," Amberdrake said, as Makke nodded and turned even grayer. "I can't have that. And we have to remember something else—there is someoneout there who wants all of us dead or gotten rid of, and if we take care of this in public, he'll only try again to do just that. The next time he might be still more clever about it. As long as we don't know who our enemy is, we can't guard against him without just going home."

Winterhart clasped her hands together in her lap, around the cup of tea, and Amberdrake pretended not to notice that her knuckles were white.

"You are saying that we can't do anything, then?" she asked tightly. "But—"

"No, what I'm saying is that this can't be public. I spoke at length with Silver Veil, and she gave me another piece of advice—'That which is unthinkable in public is often conducted in private.' Is there a way, do you think, that we could get Shalaman alone, without any witnesses to what we say to him?"

"I don't see how," Winterhart began. "He always has bodyguards with him, even when he gave me the Necklace and the Lilies—"

Makke cleared her throat, interrupting Winterhart, and all eyes turned toward her.

"A bride-to-be accepts her betrothed's proposal in her own house," she said carefully. "She does so in private. This is an old custom, and one that dates back to the days when the Haighlei were barbarians, and occasionally kidnapped women they wished to wed. By making the groom come to her, alone, she prevents being coerced into acceptance."

"So—if I sent a message to Shalaman saying I wished to see him here, alone—" Winterhart began.

Makke nodded. "He would assume that you were going to accept the Necklace, and he would send away his guards, arriving at your door unaccompanied. He would, of course, expect that youwould be alone as well." She coughed delicately. "It is often said that there are many children whose births come at intervals that are easily calculated back nine months to the date of the bride's acceptance...."

"Would now be too soon?" Winterhart said, blushing furiously. "I—I wouldn't want to seem too forward."

"I suspect," Makke replied, with a hint of her old spirit, "that our King is pacing the floor, hoping that youwill find it impossible to sleep until you have answered him."

Winterhart smiled, but it was a tight, thin smile. "So I shall," she said. "So I shall...."

Skandranon, predictably, arrived just at the moment when they were about to send that carefully worded message to the King.

"I was on the roof," he said, looking at all of their tense faces with puzzlement. "I was waiting for Kechara to contact me. I was concerned that there might be an off chance that there was someone capable of sensing mind-magic at work within the Palace."

"Why go on the roof?" Amberdrake asked.

He shrugged. "If that was the case, I didn't want anyone to associate the messages passing between myself and our little gryphon with me. It wasn't our roof, you see."

They had to explain it all over again to him, which took a bit more time. Amberdrake was a little worried that Skan might come up with another one of his wild plans instead of falling in with theirs. To his relief, Skan was in complete agreement with all of them.

"I must admit I didn't expect you to go along with this without an argument," Amberdrake finally said, as Skan settled himself into a corner with Zhaneel tucked under a wing.

The gryphon looked up at him thoughtfully. "Not an argument, exactly," he replied. "More of an addition. It's unethical, of course—but you've had a game played on you that was worse than unethical, and I think this would just even the scales between you and Shalaman."

Amberdrake winced; whenever the gryphon suggested something "unethical," or something to "even the scales," there was no predicting what he was going to say. Gryphons were carnivores, and they showed it in their ideas of justice and fair play. "Well—what was your suggestion?"

"Two things, really," Skan said, preening a talon. "The first is the unethical one. You've got a rather formidable Gift in that Empathy of yours. Use it. You know very well you can make people feel things as well as feeling them yourself—so use that. Make Shalaman feel veryguilty and in your debt for not exposing him. Shove your sincerity and good-will down his throat until he chokes on them. Make him eat kindness until he has to do us major favors or burst."

Amberdrake gritted his teeth over that one, but he had to admit that Skan had a good idea. He hatedusing his powers that way, but—

But if I'm going to ensure the success of this, I have to use every weapon I have. He's right.

"And the other?" he asked.

"Tell him you're lifebonded." Skan finished preening the talon, and regarded him with that direct gryphonic gaze. "From what I've learned, it's unusual here and it's important to these people. Leyuet can probably confirm that to him. I think telling him might just tip the scales in our favor."

Amberdrake considered that for a moment. "Well, I can't see why it should, but I also can't see how it can hurt. All right, Gesten—are you ready to play messenger?"

The hertasi nodded tightly. "This is going to need a lot of fancy footwork, Drake, I hope you know that."

"Believe me," Amberdrake replied grimly. "No one knows it better than I do." He handed the hertasi the carefully worded messages, one to the Emperor and one to Leyuet. "We'll be waiting."

Gesten slipped off, and the five of them arranged themselves very carefully. Makke was off to one side, out of the way. Zhaneel and Skan placed themselves on either side of the door, ready to interpose their bodies if the King should decide to storm out. He would not get past them; they could simply block the door with their bodies, or an extended wing, using no force and no violence. Amberdrake stood beside Winterhart, who was seated on the floor, with the Necklace gleaming on a pillow, arranged in a pattern that Makke said signified "polite refusal." It seemed there were customs for the arrangement of the necklace, which included "angered refusal," "fearful refusal," "wistful refusal," "unexplainable refusal," and so on. There was a ritual for everything.

"What did Judeth have to say?" Amberdrake asked Skan, to fill in the time. "How much did you tell her?"

"Oh, as relayed through the little one, she was apoplectic about the murder accusations, of course," Skan said casually. "She wanted us to come home. I pointed out how stupid that would be, and how it might only get us in deeper trouble. Then she was going to cancel the next lot of diplomats; which wasn't a bad idea, but I had a better one. I told her to send us some of the human Silvers instead, ones that can at least go through diplomatic motions and leave the real work to us. She thought that was a pretty good notion, giving us our own little private guards. She wanted to send mages, but I told her that would be a very bad idea and why. She agreed, and started working out the details so things can move quickly and the Silvers can sail with the tide. That's pretty much where things stand."

Amberdrake had a shrewd notion that wasn't allSkan had told Judeth to do, but it hardly mattered. At the moment, more strategy was required than diplomacy—the kind of leadership of a field commander rather than that of an administrator. Those were, and had always been, Skan's strengths. He was never better or more skillful than when he was alone, making decisions that only a single person could implement.

He hates being a leader. Now he's in his element. As dreadful as this situation is, it's good for him. And– is he losing weight?

At least this meant that there would be some skilled fighters showing up shortly, and if worse came to worst, as Skan said, they would have their own little guard contingent. If everything went wrong and they really did have to flee to save their lives—provided they could all escape the city—with the help of several skilled fighters, they couldprobably make their way across the jungle and back to White Gryphon.

It occurred to him that they ought to start making emergency escape plans, just in case. But before he could say anything, the sound of footsteps out in the hallway, coming through the slightly-open door, put all of them on alert.

Shalaman pushed the door open and took three eager steps into the room before he saw that there was a group waiting for him rather than Winterhart alone. His expression was so eager, and so happy, that Amberdrake's heart went out to him—despite the fact that Shalaman wanted him out of the way. Perhaps that was only a sign of how much a kestra'chern he was, that he could always see someone else's side.

Oh, gods, if only everyone could have everything they wanted out of this situation—But he knew very well that there were never such things as unadulterated happy endings, and that the very best that anyone could hope for here was that hearts would not be broken too badly....

Shalaman was clearly taken aback when he saw Amberdrake; he stopped dead, and his face lost all expression. In the next heartbeat, his eyes dropped to Winterhart, then to the necklace on the pillow in front of her.

His eyes went back to Amberdrake, and turned cold. His face assumed an expression of anger. But his words surprised the kestra'chern. "Lady," he said softly, "if this man has threatened you—if—"

Winterhart raised her eyes to his, as Skan and Zhaneel closed the door very softly and put themselves between Shalaman and the exit. He did not appear to notice anything except Winterhart and Amberdrake.

"This is myanswer, Serenity," she said steadily. No one who knew anything about her would ever have doubted the firm resolution in her voice. "If you think that anyone could threaten me to perform any action against my will, you are very much mistaken. Amberdrake is here because I wish him here, I asked him here, and because I wish to show you that we are of one heart in this and in all else."

Shalaman's face fell—but before he could react any further, Amberdrake spoke.

"You desired my lady," he said very gently, without even a hint of threat. "And you did not advise me that I had a right to a Truthsayer when accused of murder. I cannot think but that the two are connected."

He tried to keep the words neutral, tried to make his statement very casual, but the accusation was still there, and there was no real way to soften it.

Shalaman went absolutely rigid, as if struck with a sudden paralysis. His face froze except for a tic beside his right eye; he opened his mouth slightly, as if to speak, but nothing emerged.

Amberdrake sensed a turmoil of emotions—chief of which was panic. And overlaying that, real guilt. And beneath it all a terrible shame. All of his own doubts were resolved; consciously or not, Shalaman had tried to rid himself of his rival by underhanded means and had just been forced to acknowledge that.

Caught you. Now to soothe you.

"Serenity," he said swiftly, using his Gift just as Skan had advised, to emphasize his words and gently prod the Emperor's emotions in the direction hechose. "Winterhart is a beautiful woman, full of wit and wisdom and grace. She is a fit consort for any King, and I cannot fault you for desiring her. We are private in our emotions, and you could not know that this was not a marriage of convenience between us."

"You are generous," Shalaman growled.

Amberdrake noted the dangerous anger behind that simple statement. Time to turn that anger in the proper direction.

"I also cannot fault you for falling into a trap that was laid for all of us," he continued with a little anger of his own. "A trap contrived by someone—or a conspiracy of someones—who must be the most clever and fiendish I have ever had the misfortune to encounter. The party behind it—whoever he or she is—saw your interest and did not scruple to use it against all of us."

Shalaman knitted his brows slightly in puzzlement. "I do not understand," he told the kestra'chern. "What are you trying to say? That these murders are serving another purpose?"

Amberdrake nodded. "There is someonein this land who wishes to be rid of the folk of White Gryphon. I dare say he or she would not be averse to seeing youcome to grief as well, and this person contrived to put you in a situation where you might not see the threat to your honor." There. No accusation, only point out the existence of the threat."That is why—or so we believe—these dreadful murders have occurred, all of them of people who objected to our presence but were completely loyal to you. That is why—so we conjecture—this person arranged a situation that youwould also be entrapped by."

"So—I have a traitor in my own ranks?" the King asked, his expression darkening to anger, seizing gratefully on the suggestion that his actions had been manipulated by someone else—just as Amberdrake had known he would. It was an easier answer, one that was more palatable.

Better that than be thought dishonorable, even by barbarians.Interesting. Amberdrake had the feeling that he was finally beginning to understand these people.

"We believe so. The problem is that we will never find this person unless we lull him into carelessness," Amberdrake told him earnestly as Skan and Zhaneel moved quietly away from the door. "So, before we go any further, that I may clear my name and honor before you, at least, I should like the services of Truthsayer Leyuet—but only in private."

Again, the King was taken aback. "Why in private? Do you not wish your name to be made clean?"

Amberdrake shrugged. "We are gambling with more than just my personal honor here," he said philosophically. "To ask for the Truthsayer before the Court would reveal that we are aware of some of what is going on, and I am willing for others to continue to suspect me if it will help us to catch the true villain. Thatis more important, and I can abide suspicious glares and the anger of your courtiers to achieve justice for the murders."

Sincerity, honesty, graciousness... do believe me, Shalaman. It all happens to be true.

Shalaman nodded cautiously; too much the diplomat himself to take even this at face value.

"I also request Leyuet's services on behalf of the servant Makke," he continued persuasively. "The reason will become clear when you hear what she has to say."

Shalaman frowned but nodded again. Gesten—who had left his message with Shalaman only to go fetch Leyuet—knocked in his familiar pattern at that precise moment, and Skan moved to open the door to let the hertasi and the Truthsayer in.

They almost lost their advantage at that moment as Shalaman realized how theyhad manipulated him. But his own good sense overcame his temper, and he managed to do no more than frown at his Advisor as Leyuet came in.

Leyuet made a formal obeisance to his leader which appeared to mollify the King somewhat. Shalaman gestured to the rest of them to take seats, then appropriated the best chair in the room and sat down in it with ill grace.

"I see you have all this planned," he growled, waving his hand at Leyuet. "Continue, then, before I lose my patience. Truthsayer, examine the man Amberdrake."

Good. He's angry. Now to turn that anger away from us and toward whoever is conspiring against us.

"There is only one thing more that I need to tell you, Serenity," he said, very carefully. "But I needed the Truthsayer here to confirm it so that you will believe it. If you would, please, Leyuet?"

The Truthsayer nodded and then knelt upon the floor at Amberdrake's feet, closing his eyes and assuming an expression of intense concentration. As Silver Veil had explained it, Leyuet would notactually read Amberdrake's thoughts as a Mindspeaker might, nor his emotions as an Empath would. She could only describe it as "soul-touching, perhaps, or heart-reading"—that Leyuet would take in what Amberdrake was, with no emotions or surface thoughts intruding, and relate that to the truth or falsehood of what he was saying. As she described it, the act would be far more intimate on Leyuet's part (for Amberdrake would sense nothing) than any Empathic sensing of emotion. It was impossible to lie to a Truthsayer, she claimed. If that was the case, Amberdrake did not envy Leyuet his Gift—

There are more than a few slimy souls I would never have wanted to touch in that way. Ma'ar, for instance, or Shaiknam. The very idea makes me shudder.

"I wish to prove to you why my lady and I are more than we appear. Winterhart and I have a very unusual bond," he said, choosing his words with care. "In our tongue, it is called 'lifebonding.' I have not been able to find the equivalent in yours, but it is a binding of soul to soul—a partnership that completes both of us. What one feels, the other feels as well—"

He continued, trying to describe their relationship in terms that Shalaman might understand, groping through the unfamiliar Haighlei words, until suddenly Leyuet's eyes flew open and the Truthsayer exclaimed with dismay—

"Serenity! These two are loriganalea! Oh, dearest gods—what did you think you were doing?"

The look of horror on Leyuet's face was mirrored in Shalaman's.

What on earth? Why—

Amberdrake had no time for any other thoughts, for suddenly, the Emperor himself, the great Shalaman, was on hisknees, clutching the hems of Amberdrake's garment and Winterhart's in turn, begging their forgiveness. Amberdrake had not seen anyone so terrified in ten years. What had Leyuet said?

Amberdrake was taken so aback he didn't know what to say or do next. Leyuet seemed to be completely paralyzed.

Finally it was Skan who broke the impasse.

"Well," he said, in a completely casual tone, as if he saw all-powerful Emperors groveling in front of his friends every day, "I always said you and Winterhart were something special."

Things were very confusing for several long moments. When a greatly-shaken Shalaman—who had by this time lost every aspect of Emperor and seemed to have decided that he would be, for now, only Shalaman the man—was calmed down and assured of both their forgiveness, they finally learned from him and from Leyuet why their reaction had been so violent. In fact, Leyuet was still looking a bit gray about the lips.

"This is a sacred bond," Leyuet said, carefully, so that there could be no mistake. "This is a marriage, made not for lust or for power or the sake of convenience, but made by the gods.The holy books are very plain; interfering in such a bond will bring the curses of the ages upon anyone who tries to break it, anyone who helpsto break it and anyone who does not aid the bonded ones. If he who tried to interfere in the bonding is a ruler, the curses would fall even upon the people as a whole. You have done a good thing, Amberdrake, by recognizing this bond and telling us of it. You have not only saved the Emperor's honor, you have prevented the curses of all of our gods and yours as well from falling upon this land."

"You were well within your rights to withhold this knowledge from me," Shalaman said miserably, shaken to his bones. "If I had not the opportunity to obtain your forgiveness, it is possible that the curses would stillhave come, and you would have had your revenge upon me threefold. It would only have been justice—your withholding of information in exchange for my omission."

The Emperor shuddered, his lips pale with strain. "There is nothing I can give you in my entire Empire that can compensate you—"

This was too much. Amberdrake cast a glance of entreaty at the Truthsayer for help, since nothing he had said seemed to penetrate the Emperor's reaction. Leyuet placed a hand upon Shalaman's, keeping him from saying anything more. "It is enough. It did not happen. Amberdrake and Winterhart understand and forgive. They both know—well, enough."

'That is the truth," Amberdrake said hastily. "Remember, we were allcaught in a web of deception. The blame should rightly fall on the spider who spun it; let the curses fall upon him."

That was evidently exactly the right thing to say; the Emperor closed his eyes and nodded, relaxing a little.

But Leyuet was not finished. "And youknow, my Emperor, that even if Amberdrake were to perish in the next instant, Winterhart would stillnot be for you, nor for any other man. You may wish to consult Palisar on the matter, but I would say this proves that the gods regard those of White Gryphon as they would the Haighlei, in matters of the soul and love."

That last was said with a certain stern relish that made Amberdrake wonder if the pointed little reminder were not Leyuet's tiny act of revenge for his own mental and emotional strain over this situation. Poor Leyuet. He walked a thread above a chasm, and he survived. I should not be surprised if he garnered more white hairs from this.

Shalaman nodded weakly. "I know. And I swear that I will think of her from this moment as I would my own sister, my own mother, my own daughter—and with no other thoughts in my heart." He shook himself a little, then looked up at Amberdrake. "Now, you will assert your innocence in this matter, and Leyuet will verify it, and I will make this public if there is no other way to prove that you are blameless. Will that suit your plan to trap this plot-spinning spider?"

"It does. But do not reveal my innocence unless there is no other way to save my life," Amberdrake reminded him. "We must make our enemy think that he has us trapped, all of us. He will never make any mistakes unless he becomes overconfident."

We have to think of other things that will make it look as if I am still the chief suspect....

Leyuet assumed his Truthsaying "trance" again, and Amberdrake carefully stated his innocence in allthe murders. There was no point in doing this if Shalaman would still be wondering if Amberdrake had anything to do with the other three deaths. "Nor would I harm any other member of your court," he added, "except to bring this killer to justice."

There. I think that covers everything.Shalaman hardly looked at Leyuet, who confirmed everything Amberdrake said in a dreamy, detached voice. Odd; he looked so strained before, but now he actually seems to be experiencing something pleasant! I wonder why?

"Now, for Makke—" Amberdrake brought the trembling woman to sit in front of Leyuet. She seemed to be on the verge of tears, but bravely held them back, looking only at Amberdrake. She seemed to take comfort and heart from his presence, and he put a steadying hand on hers as he knelt beside her chair, out of Leyuet's way.

"Makke, you are the servant and cleaning woman for myself, Winterhart, Zhaneel, and Skandranon, are you not?" he asked in a gentle voice.

She nodded mutely, and Leyuet echoed the gesture. "One of your tasks is to see that our clothing is taken to the laundresses and returned, is that not so?" he continued; she nodded, and Leyuet confirmed the truth of the statement.

"Now—today, this morning, when you fetched the clean clothing, some of it was missing, correct? Whose was it?"

Makke's voice trembled with suppressed tears. "Yours, great lord."

"And that was before the afternoon recess, when all the Court takes a rest, was it not?"

"Yes, great lord," she replied, a single tear seeping out of the corner of her eye and escaping into the wrinkles of her cheeks.

"When you took it away yesterday, did it everleave your hands from the moment you received it to the moment you delivered it to the laundresses?" he asked. She shook her head mutely.

"And when did you discover that there was a piece missing?" he asked her.

"When I opened the bundle as it came from the laundresses, in these rooms, great lord," she said and sobbed as she lost her tenuous control of herself. "I am—"

"No," he said quickly, putting a hand on her shoulder to stop her from saying anything more. "Describe the missing piece, if you can."

As he had hoped, she remembered it in minute detail, and it was obvious to anyone who had seen the bloody fragments that the robe she described and the pieces found with the last victim were the same.

"Good," he said. "Now, simply answer this. Did you leave the bundle anywhere, after you received it from their hands? Did you even leave it alone in our rooms?"

She shook her head.

"So during the entire time when the clothing was in yourcontrol, you did not leave it anywhere but in the hands of those who were to clean it?" It was a rhetorical question, but she nodded.

"The woman speaks the truth," Leyuet said tonelessly.

"So– first, the clothing that turned up with the last murder victim was missing from my possession this morning, so I could not have been wearing it," Amberdrake said triumphantly. "And second, it cannot possibly have been Makke's fault that it came into the possession of someone else. She was not careless, she didn't lose anything—it was stolen, and she can hardly be held responsible for the acts of someone who is a murderer, a traitor, and a thief."

Shalaman sighed wearily, and Makke suddenly looked up, her expression changing in an instant from one of despair to one of joy.

"That is so, Emperor," Leyuet said slowly as he shook himself out of his trance. "Though I fail to see why it was so important—"

He stopped himself, flushing with shame. "Forgive me, woman," he said to Makke, with stiff humility. "It was important to you, of course. Not all troubles involve the curses of gods and the fate of empires—but sometimes the fate of empires can devolve upon the small troubles."

Makke obviously didn't understand what Leyuet was trying to say, but she nodded timidly, shrinking back into the chair.

'The question is," Leyuet said, "what do we do with her? I do not know that she should continue as your cleaning woman. Perhaps a retirement?"

Makke shrank back further still.

"If I may make a request?" Zhaneel put in. "Makke is the only one who knows that the clothing was missing. This puts her in danger, if the murderer thinks of it. Could she not be protected if she were here, in our personal train? If she were to be made—oh—" Zhaneel's expression became crafty "—the nurse of my little ones? She would then be in our suite all the time, and under our guarding eyes and talons!"

Leyuet looked dubious. "Is this permitted?" he asked Shalaman. "She is of the caste of the Lower Servants, is not a nursemaid of the caste of Upper Servants?" He seemed far more concerned over the possible breach in caste than by the threat to Makke's life. Shalaman's brow creased with a similar concern.

Hang these people and their ranks and castes!

Skandranon snorted with derision before anyone else could say anything. "At the moment, the servants watching the little ones are from whatever caste takes care of pet dogs and parrots!" he said with thinly-veiled contempt. "This is, I believe, on the judgment of whoever it is that decides who should serve where. I hardly think that they can be of any higher caste than Makke. They are certainlyof less intelligence!"

Leyuet looked a little happier. "It is true, Emperor, that there is no description or caste for one who would be a nursemaid to—to—" He groped for a tactful description, and Skan supplied him with an untactful one.

"Nursemaid to the offspring of intelligent animals," he said shortly. "And I don't see any reason why Shalaman can't declare it to be in Makke's caste and give her the job here and now."

"Nor do I," Shalaman said hastily, obviously wanting to get what seemed to him to be nonsense over with. "I declare it. Leyuet, have a secretary issue the orders."

Leyuet emerged from his trance feeling more like himself than he had since the foreigners arrived. His stomach was settled, his headache gone, his energy completely restored.

And it was– it was a pleasure to touch the soul of Amberdrake,he realized with wonder. As noble a soul as Silver Veil– and how ever could I have doubted that? Was he not her pupil? Is he not still her friend? Why should I have forgotten these things?

He did not even express impatience with the amount of time spent on the servant woman, where a few days ago he would have been offended at this waste of his gifts, and insisted that a lesser Truthsayer attend to her.

It would, of course, have been a great pity if anything happened to her, so the female gryphon's suggestion about how to keep her safe was a good one. But it was an insignificant detail in the greater work of this evening. He and Amberdrake between them had managed to engineer all of it without ever having Shalaman's honor publicly called into question.

And Amberdrake saved us all from the curses of the gods– and on the eve of the Eclipse, too!His relief at thatwas enough to make him weak in the knees. The disaster that would be– the curses could have persisted for the next twenty years, or worse!

But of course Amberdrake's forgiveness came quickly and readily; that was the kind of soul that Leyuet had touched.

He simply rested from his labor as Skandranon, Shalaman, and the rest worked out what the next moves would be.

"I think perhaps that we should do more than continue to foster the illusion that I am the chief suspect," Amberdrake said gravely. "In fact—Winterhart, if you have no objections, perhaps we should also foster the illusion that you and I have quarreled over this, and that you have accepted the King's proposal."

Leyuet woke up at that. It was a bold move—and a frightening one. He would have been more concerned, except that he had violated custom and Read the King, and he knew that Shalaman had been truly frightened by his narrow escape, and that he would, indeed, regard Winterhart as purely and without lust as if she was his daughter from this moment on.

In the face of so great a threat, the violation of custom is a small matter. Shalaman could not have been permitted Winterhart's company if his heart had not changed.