Dried sachets scented the air, along with the fruity smell of the alcohol lanterns and faint cedarwood from the hearth. A page in livery sat on a stool not far away, strumming a lute-his younger brother, Huon. He frowned at that. The kid should be doing page service in someone else's household, to bind the families and get the best training as page and then squire, but his mother had been dragging her feet about it.
So… No time like the present to establish publicly who's boss now.
"Hello, Huon," he said, as the boy stopped playing and came forward to pour a cup of the mulled wine from the flagon heating on the tiled stove. "Lord Chaka says he could use a page, and then a squire, over in Barony Molalla."
The boy's dark eyes lit with eagerness. Odard went on: "Talk to me about it after dinner."
Several servant women in their double tunics and tab ards stood motionless on call, eyes cast down and hands folded before them. One glided forward to refill a tea cup from a pot that rested over a little spirit lamp; they all turned and tripped out of the room when he made a gesture.
When everyone was out of earshot, he kissed his mother's hand and then her offered cheek, kicked a padded leather settle over close and sat. His mother's eyes were as blue as his own, and colder-nobody had ever said Mary Liu operated on charm-but he favored his father in his lithe build. His features were a compro mise, which left his nose straight but short, unlike her slightly hawkish beak.
"Were you trying to wreck the family fortunes?" he demanded, preempting her complaint about Huon. "You and my precious hothead of an uncle?"
He could see her considering denying everything. Instead she stuck her needle in the fabric and shrugged.
"It was an opportunity to get some revenge for your father, and my older brother," she said flatly. "With… plausible deniability."
"Plausible to the Spider?" Odard asked incredulously. "You expected to keep it secret from the Lady Regent?"
She frowned, lines appearing between her plucked fair eyebrows and touching her wimple.
"That was a risk," she admitted.
"Risk to my own precious personal hide, Mother-I ended up in the middle of that cluster… heap in Sutterdown."
For a moment genuine distress showed in her eyes: "I didn't mean for that to happen, darling!"
"Mother, that doesn't mean those lunatics weren't trying to kill me."
"It… went wrong. You shouldn't have been there. That was unfortunate."
"That was stupidity!" he replied. "And what exactly do you think Lady Sandra would have done to our family if they'd killed the Princess? Besides which, do you know how many years of effort I've put into cultivating Mathilda?"
"Years spent hanging around with that Mackenzie brat as if you were his boon companion!" she spit suddenly.
"There are worse companions to have," Odard said, and held up his hand. "Don't explode, Mother. I'm as aware of the debt I owe my family as you are. Unlike you, I'm also aware that a man can walk farther than he can run."
"I made a policy decision."
"And one that ended putting me in a fight to the death with the men you let use my land as a base!" he repeated.
That made her look embarrassed; but her face also closed in like a fist, and he knew that it took something drastic to shift her when she started looking like that.
I suppose I'll have to be frank, Odard thought. Deplorable. Give me honeyed equivocation anytime.
"Mother, I came of age several months ago," he pointed out with gentle implacability, holding her eyes. "I am the baron. If you wish, you can select one of the demesne manors as a dower house, and establish your own household there."
And sit and rot with the servants and some gossiping old biddies, he thought grimly.
"Or you could have apartments at court."
And have Lady Sandra keeping a very close eye on you twenty four seven.
Shocked, she followed the thought. "I… Darling, I just want to be of help to you!"
He smiled. She is my mother, after all. With all that that implies.
"I know, Mom. You do a great job of keeping the comptroller and the bailiffs in line and the mesne tithes coming in, which frankly makes my life a lot easier."
His face went stern. "But you will not interfere in mat ters of high policy again without consulting me. Mine is the final word. Do. .. you… understand?"
Their eyes locked. After a moment hers turned aside, and she nodded.
"But… contacts with the new power in the East could be valuable…" she said. "I have assurances from them-passwords and signs-"
"Perhaps. But I will be the judge of that from now on," he said. "And not so incidentally, there's something very strange going on here. That man Ingolf the Cutters are so hot to ventilate saw something out there in the bar barian lands. Rudi and his mother are very interested. Mathilda's interested. Which means I am interested. .. and I want any information you get. Understood? And I will use it as the Princess requires. From now on, a dou ble block and tackle and a team of oxen couldn't get me away from her."
She nodded again.
"Excellent. Let's go down, then."
He rose and extended an arm. She followed and laid her fingers on it, and together they paced down towards the hall.
And someday, one way or another, I will be Lord Protector.
Chapter Ten
Dun Juniper,
Willamette Valley, Oregon
April 14, CY23/2021 A.D.
Everyone who could in Dun Juniper was out on one excuse or another, after the long confinement of the Black Months; the bright chill air booming down from the mountains smelled of fir sap, sweet grass, apple blossom, the faint cool scent of hawthorn flowers from the hedges.
"We should start the quest soon, " Ritva said.
She was panting slightly after the sword and-targe bout with her sister Mary. Ingolf and Rudi watched with professional appreciation for their quicksilver lightness of movement. The easterner also looked as if he appreciated their looks.
Hmmm, Ritva thought, looking at him. He is shaping up nicely. Possibly…
Mary took up the conversation seamlessly, leaving In golf looking a little nonplussed. It took a while to get used to their conversational style.
"The high passes will be open in a few weeks. Or there's the Columbia gorge; it's year round."
They were all armored for practice; a blunt blade could still kill you. Rudi was in a Clan-style brigandine; the twins wore what the Dunedain used for light armor on scouting trips, a mail shirt a lot like Ingolf's but riv eted to a covering of soft dark green leather to make it quieter and less conspicuous.
A crowd of excited six-year-olds went by, shepherded by a teacher in an arsaid-an ankle-length version of a wrapped kilt and plaid-showing them plants and telling them the names and uses. Usually they'd have ignored Rudi, or waved; he'd grown up here, after all, Chief's son or no, and Dun Juniper wasn't all that populous. Now a number of them looked at him with awe, and some pointed and murmured.
"Now, by the Dagda's club, how do you start off on a secret quest when everyone knows your face and who and what you are and how that ancient prophecy about you seems to be coming to life?" Rudi said, mouth quirking.
"Hell with me if I know," Ingolf Vogeler said. Then he brightened: "But at least I haven't had any more of those damned dreams."
The pasture below the dun's gates and past the hill side orchards was thick grass starred with yellow dande lion and blue camas-flower; it stretched away on either hand beneath a bright blue sky, and the scent alone was enough to make a man feel as if he were sixteen and had just gotten his first kiss. It must be better for someone recovering from wounds and illness that took him close to death.