“Nevertheless,” Muriele replied, “I must think of my children.”
“As you were thinking of Anne?” Elyoner asked, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
“Anne is my affair, Elyoner. I did what was needed.”
“You’ve sent a perfectly wonderful, spirited girl off to be broken into a nag,” Elyoner retorted, “like that old killjoy jade Erren, there.”
“I have protected her from herself,” Muriele replied. “And we shall no longer talk of this.”
As they spoke, Charles and Hound Hat had descended, the prince still in his nightclothes.
“Apples!” Charles exclaimed, sounding like a child. “Aunt Elyoner, my favorite!”
“That’s right, child, I always remember,” Elyoner said. “Have as many as you want. I fear it’s the only entertainment you’ll get today.” She sighed and fingered her chin. “I suppose I could have my players do something for us, if you don’t consider that too threatening, Sir Neil. Elseny, you might do a scene with them, if you wish.”
“Yes, I suppose that would be better than nothing,” Elseny pouted. “Though the boat ride would be more dear by far.”
Audra came down the stairs, alone.
“Where is the princess Fastia?” Elyoner asked the maid.
“She is feeling unwell, Duchess,” Audra replied. “She’s asked me to fetch something from the kitchen.”
“I see. Well, the cook will make whatever she wants. And do take something for yourself, child.”
“Thank you, Duchess,” Audra replied. “It all looks wonderful.”
Neil bit into a boiled egg, relieved that he didn’t have to face Fastia yet, ashamed for feeling that way. She probably hated him for taking what advantage he had. He ate glumly as the family chattered around him and the house awoke.
A footman entered and interrupted his worries.
“There’s a rider here, Duchess,” he announced. “From Eslen.”
“Indeed? What news does he bring?”
The footman bowed. “News of war, Duchess. Liery has declared war on Saltmark.”
“It’s beginning,” Erren muttered. “Muriele—”
“Quite right,” Muriele said. “Sir Neil, inform the guard. We are returning to the safety of Cal Azroth. We depart in one hour.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Elyoner said. “You are quite safe here, I tell you. It isn’t as if Crotheny is at war.”
“It took the rider at least five days to get here,” Muriele reasoned. “This news is old. If Liery is at war, Crotheny cannot be far behind, and if we enter, so does Hansa. It is probably done as we speak. Children, have your things packed.”
“But we just got here,” Elseny protested. “Cal Azroth is so unutterably dull.”
“Yes, it is,” Muriele acknowledged. “Pack your things.”
Despite himself, Neil felt only relief. War was less dangerous than Glenchest.
5
Meeting on the Headland
The sun rose smothered in fog, paling the headland of Aenah with the color and feel of frost, so that William pulled his cloak tighter, though the sea breeze still had summer in it. His gaze searched restlessly down the cliffs to the shatter of rocks there, and beyond to the unsteady lines of water and sky. Around him, fifteen knights sat their horses silently. Robert, his face creased in unaccustomed severity, had dismounted. He, too, gazed out at the sea.
“Where are they?” William growled.
Robert shrugged. “You know as well as I that the sea roads are uncertain,” he said. “Saint Lier cares little for the punctuality of mariners.”
“And even less for that of pirates. You are certain this is arranged? Lesbeth will be returned to us?”
“We’ve kept up our bargain,” Robert replied. “They will keep theirs. Austrobaurg knows he has extracted all he can from us by her captivity. That’s been made clear.”
“But why this clandestine meeting? Why insist that we two come along?”
Ananias Hargoln, captain of the lancers, spoke up. “My very thought, Sire. This seems most transparently a trap.” His blue-steel eyes traveled the line of the coast suspiciously.
“We’ve covered this ground before. My spies have secured the region,” Robert stated tersely. “Does Sir Ananias doubt his prime minister?”
Sir Ananias shook his graying head. “Not in the least, my prince. But I do doubt the duke of Austrobaurg. First he takes captive one of the royal family, and now he will exchange her only in the presence of the emperor himself on this saint’s forsaken heath of a headland. Though we agreed to allow only fifteen men apiece, the emperor has it right. This is king-slaying begging to happen.”
“Austrobaurg will have only fifteen men, as well,” Robert pointed out.
“So he promised. That does not make it so.”
Robert pointed to the winding cliffside path that led up from the sea. “We shall have ample time to notice if he brings more. No, Austrobaurg’s motives are far less clandestine. He wants to throw his piss in our face and laugh when we can do nothing in response.”
“Yes, that fits,” William muttered. “I remember him all too well. A puffed-up fellow, a braggart.” He leaned in close to Robert. “Let him enjoy his moment,” he whispered. “But when this is done, and Lesbeth safe in Eslen—then, Robert, we shall discuss Austrobaurg again.”
Robert arched his brows. “Indeed,” he said. “Perhaps we’ll make a politician of you after all, Wilm.”
“Assuming he comes at all,” William added.
But Robert was nodding at the waves and lifting a finger to point. “There,” he said.
William’s eyes weren’t what they once had been, but only a few moments later he made out what Robert had seen—the long silhouette of a galley cutting through the whitecaps toward the stony shingle below. Over the crash of surf, he began to make out the pulling chant that went with the long, even strokes of the oars.
“How many men do you make?” William asked Sir Ananias.
The knight leaned his lanky frame forward in the saddle and studied the approaching ship.
“Narry more than fifteen, Sire,” he said at last. “Same as promised.”
“Might there be more belowdecks?”
“That there might be, Sire. I advise you stay here on the clifftop whilst I make certain there’s no trickery. Let me keep you safe as I can.”
“Sound advice, brother,” Robert said.
“Very well. Meet them on the landing. Tell them you’ve come to insure that the terms of the meeting are kept—on both sides. Tell them they may send an emissary to verify our numbers, as well.”
He watched as Ananias wound down the narrow trail cut into the white face of the cliffs, shrinking in perspective until he and his mount might have been a silver beetle. He reached the shore just as the ship was beaching, and a figure in gold-chased armor stood in the prow. They spoke, and a few moments later, the knight boarded the galley. A horse was brought up from the hold, and soon a knight of Austrobaurg’s was ascending the headland. As he did so, more horses were brought from the ship to the shore.
The Austrobaurg knight introduced himself in stilted king’s tongue as Sir Wignhund Fram Hravenfera, and proceeded to search the headland for any troops William might have concealed there. It didn’t take much of a search; the headland was where the plain of Maog Vaost stooped to the sea. It was sheepland, clear of trees and gently sloping, with no concealing ridges or crevasses in any direction.
Ananias returned presently.
“They are as agreed,” Sir Ananias said. “Fifteen, no more and no less.”
“And Lesbeth? She is well?”
The knight’s long face pinched into a frown. “I did not see her, Sire.”
William turned to his brother. “What’s going on here, Robert?”
Robert shrugged. “I do not know. More posturing, no doubt.”
“I don’t like it, Sire,” Sir Ananias said. “I suggest a withdrawal. Let the prime minister ask the questions.”
“Indeed,” Robert said. “Let someone with a full set of stones do the talking with this ‘puffed-up’ fellow.”