Atre grinned at his reflection in the mirror. “Why should it be? We’ve fallen into a nice bit of luck here, cousin. I plan to take full advantage. You’re not going to oppose me, are you?”
The big man shrugged. “You’re the master of the company. But your ambition and vanity have led us-”
“My ambition and vanity have kept us alive and prospering. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m tired and we have a full rehearsal tomorrow. You should get some sleep, too, cousin. You’re looking a bit haggard. Are you eating well? Shall I fix you a little something?”
Without a word Brader turned and left, shutting the door softly behind him.
Smiling to himself, Atre admired the princess’s amethyst ring again. He was indeed fortunate in his patrons.
CHAPTER 15. Rubbing Shoulders with Royalty
ALEC was sitting on the kitchen floor, playing with Marag, when Seregil came in with a letter.
“Aren’t we the popular fellows!” he said with a grin, passing the letter to Alec. “A royal page just delivered this. That’s Elani’s personal seal, by the way.”
It was written on expensive parchment, and had an impressive seal dangling from it on a ribbon, showing the image of a coursing hound running under Illior’s thin crescent moon, surmounted with Sakor’s stylized flame. It was an invitation written in a looping girlish script, inviting them to shoot with her early the following morning. Seregil studied it, committing it to memory.
“Apparently your little show of possession didn’t put her off the notion,” Alec noted.
“She seems a levelheaded girl. Maybe she takes after her aunt Klia.”
Alec was sweating in his light coat before they’d crossed the Harvest Market, though it wasn’t due to the weather. The air was blessedly cool at this hour, and the lowering clouds held the promise of a summer shower. He pulled nervously at the quiver strap across his chest. The shatta clicked and rattled together against his left hip in time to Windrunner’s pace.
Riding beside him on Cynril, Seregil glanced over at him and shook his head. “Stop looking like you’ve been sent to the Red Tower!”
“I hope I don’t land myself there before this is over,” Alec muttered.
“Just remember your manners, and keep up that country charm. She already likes you.”
At the appointed hour they showed the invitation at the gates of the royal park and rode into the grounds surrounding the forbidding Palace. The Palace was built against the side of the inner curtain wall, like a barnacle on a rock. It was a dour-looking fortress, built by Tamir the Great to withstand sieges, and had no hint of the Oreska House’s airy grace, though they were built at the same time. Buttressed by the western curtain wall that surrounded the city, its square towers overlooked the city and the harbor below. There were barracks on the extensive grounds, but gardens, as well, that softened the ugliness a little. Having come here in less-than-pleasant circumstances before, Alec shivered a little as he rode through the ornate iron gates.
The royal lists were located in the south garden; archery was a favorite pastime of the nobility, as well as a martial skill. Courtiers of both sexes had already gathered with the princess, including Princess Aralain. A few of the women and girls were dressed in men’s clothing, the princess herself in something like a military uniform, with her fair hair in a braid over one shoulder, and a fine bow and quiver over the other.
The vicegerent, Prince Korathan, was there, as well, dressed for shooting rather than court, together with Alaya, Duke Reltheus, Count Selin, and a host of other retainers and friends, including Tolin and Stenmir, whom Alec had seen at Kyrin’s house the night he first burgled it.
Korathan stood talking to the princess as they approached. The prince was a tall, fair man, and Phoria’s twin, with the same pale eyes and hair now streaked with grey, as was his short-cropped beard. He had a somewhat warmer manner, however, and doubly so, it seemed, around his niece. He was another of Seregil’s former lovers, too, if very briefly and a long time ago. Alec tried not to think about that.
Elani caught sight of them and waved. Alec waved back,
then yanked his hand down and glanced nervously at Seregil. “Should I have done that?”
“She’s smiling, tali. Remember, just be yourself and respectful. That’s why we’re here, after all.”
Alec looked to Korathan for a read of the weather and found the man also smiling and at ease.
Once in the royal presence, Seregil and Alec bowed deeply. “We are most honored by your invitation, Highness,” Seregil said, speaking for both of them.
“Thank you for coming,” she replied, and he noticed her gaze straying again to Alec.
“Alec, perhaps Her Highness would like to see the Radly.”
“Oh, of course.” Alec unshouldered his black bow and held it out to her with both hands. There were a few titters among the courtiers at his slight awkwardness, but Seregil didn’t mind; it only bolstered the country-bred reputation that they’d so carefully cultivated.
Elani ran her hands over the smooth black yew limbs and the ivory plate, admiring the etched maker’s mark. “And you say it comes apart?”
Alec took it back, unstrung it, and twisted the handgrip, unlocking the steel ferrule and pulling the two limbs apart. He showed her how they fit back together, then took it apart again for her to try. She assembled it and set one end against her foot to restring it with practiced ease. Raising it in her left hand, she drew the string to her ear, then slowly eased it back. “The mechanism doesn’t weaken it?”
“No, Highness.”
Seregil exchanged a slight smile with the prince as Alec and Elani stood there, talking bows and shooting for some time, as if the rest of them weren’t there. Elani and Alec might be worlds apart in rank, but they spoke the same language, and with the same enthusiasm. In his element, Alec was almost as at ease as if he were talking with Beka or Micum.
“Perhaps we should get to it?” Korathan suggested at last. In truth, the others were getting a little restless, no doubt less than pleased to see a newcomer of low rank getting so much
attention from the princess at their expense. Seregil had spent enough time at court to know that the closer you got to the throne, the closer to the surface jealousy ran.
Anxious to see the Radly in action, Elani took Alec as her partner, and Seregil found himself paired with the prince.
“Well, well. I’ve gotten the lesser part of this bargain,” Korathan remarked as he stepped up to the line at their target. “Unless you’ve improved since I last saw you shoot.”
“Improved is such a relative term. But you still probably wouldn’t want to depend on me for your supper.”
Korathan just chuckled.
Alec’s efforts with him had not been completely in vain; Seregil didn’t come close to besting Korathan, but he did manage to reliably strike the target.
It felt at once strange and familiar, this. It had been years since he and Korathan had met as anything other than prince and lord, but for this brief time the barriers were lowered at least a little and Seregil got a glimpse of the man he’d liked and bedded when they were both so young. Years past the pain, the memory made him smile.
“Are you going to shoot or stand there woolgathering?” Korathan asked, sounding more amused than impatient. A voice from the past. Maybe he was remembering, too.
“I must ask a favor of you,” Princess Elani said to Alec as they took their places in the list, softly enough so that the crowd of courtiers watching couldn’t hear.
“I’m yours to command, Highness,” Alec replied, surprised.
The girl smiled and shook her head. “People have a habit of letting me win because of who I am. I don’t appreciate that. Rumor has it that you are an exceptional archer. I’d prefer to see your best.”
Alec relaxed a little; in fact, Seregil had warned him to not make too much of a show of himself. He did insist, however, on giving her the advantage of shooting second. Placing his toe to the line, he adjusted his leather tab and nocked a red-fletched arrow to his string, bow arm still relaxed and hanging down. Then he fixed his eye on the distant bull’s-eye,