But then from the sitting room she heard a woman’s giggle, a man’s rumbling whisper. As startled as if she had been caught doing something forbidden, she practically ran out of the bedroom.
The woman was Saddith, and Terisa’s sudden appearance took her by surprise: an involuntary twitch nearly made her drop the tray she was carrying. “My lady!” she said, rolling her eyes comically. “I thought you were still asleep.”
The man was one of the guards Geraden had introduced her to earlier – Ribuld, the one with the scar down the middle of his face. He, too, had been surprised by Terisa’s entrance: his hand on Saddith’s shoulder, and the disarray of her shawl and hair, suggested that he hadn’t been expecting an interruption; had, in fact, been intending to enjoy himself as much as possible while Saddith’s hands were trapped by the tray she carried. Nevertheless he promptly showed Terisa a grin which was probably intended to be reassuring.
In the doorway behind Saddith and Ribuld stood Argus, Ribuld’s companion. “Better and better,” he muttered with a gap-toothed leer. “One for each of us.”
Terisa froze, caught by instinctive alarm.
As soon as Saddith regained her own equilibrium, however, she took pity on Terisa’s fright. “Mend your manners, clods,” she said mildly. “My lady is not diverted by your sort of humor.” Without apparent effort – or malice – she swung one clogged foot sharply against Ribuld’s shin.
Gasping and grimacing, he hopped backward. For an instant, he clutched at his shin with both hands. Then he forced himself to stand upright. A scowl of mingled chagrin, anger, and amusement puckered his scar.
Behind him, Argus sniggered like an adolescent.
“My lady,” Saddith went on primly, “do not let these louts distress you. They are neither as fierce nor as manly as they would have you think.” Argus faced this remark with open astonishment; Ribuld tried to ignore it. “And they will not dare to displease you. Though they are plainly dull, between them they possess wit enough to know that if they displease you I will be displeased, and then”—she gave the guards an arch smile over her shoulder—“neither of them will ever walk normally again.”
This time, both men made studious efforts not to react.
“Now, my lady,” continued the maid, “I have brought some small supper for you, if you care for food. Not knowing how you are accustomed to dine, I thought it best to begin simply. But if this fare is not to your liking, I will gladly bring you whatever I can.”
Saddith’s mastery of the situation enabled Terisa to unfreeze. Geraden had told her that he meant to try to have these two men assigned to her, for her protection. So far, he hadn’t shown himself to be possessed of especially good judgment. On the other hand, he had been relieved of responsibility for her – which seemed to imply that Argus and Ribuld weren’t here at his request? With an effort of concentration, she found her voice. “What’re they doing here?”
“Those two?” Saddith sniffed disdainfully. “I cannot imagine. That is to say, I know precisely what they are doing. But why they have chosen to do it here, I have no idea. Doubtless King Joyse told the guard captain that you should be warded, either for protection or for honor, and the captain displayed his poor sense by assigning those two the duty.”
In his loud whisper, Argus muttered, “I don’t think we should let her talk about us like that, Ribuld. She would sing a different tune if we had her alone.”
“If we had her alone, you overgrown slophog,” Ribuld replied with equal subtlety, “she wouldn’t need to act like this. You wouldn’t be scaring the lady Terisa with your lewd attentions.” Then he looked at Terisa and changed his manner to a loose approximation of respect. “The truth is, my lady, we’re not on duty.”
“No?” Saddith was moderately surprised.
“The captain doesn’t know we’re here – and I’m sure the King doesn’t. We’re doing this for Geraden. He stopped by the wardroom earlier this afternoon and asked us to look after you. As a personal favor. He didn’t say what he was worried about, but he was obviously worried.”
He shrugged his heavy shoulders. “If you don’t want us around, you can tell us to go away. We might do that. But I think we might want you to explain it to Geraden first. He may be the clumsiest man in Mordant, and too young for his age on top of it, but we don’t like to disappoint him.”
“You might say,” Argus added with an attempt at formal enunciation and pious sentiment which his missing teeth doomed to failure, “he comes from a good family.”
This explanation left Terisa groping. She didn’t know what to do. Helplessly, she looked to Saddith.
The maid considered Terisa, glanced sardonically over at the two guards, then sighed. “Oh, let them stay, my lady. There is less harm in them than they might want you to believe. And I doubt that they would willingly insult Geraden by displeasing you. As this lout says” – she indicated Argus with a toss of her head – “the family of the Domne is well regarded – and especially Artagel, who is said to have the sharpest sword in all Mordant.” She winked knowingly at Terisa. “Among other things.” Then she resumed, “Even a brave man might blanch if he insulted Geraden and had to face Artagel in consequence.”
It was Geraden who had wanted to answer her questions, Geraden who had seemed to care what happened to her. Now he had defied – or at least subverted – King Joyse’s orders by arranging protection for her. As if she were giving him a vote of confidence, she murmured, “All right.”
In response, Argus nudged Ribuld and grinned. “What did I tell you? She wants us. Under those funny clothes, she’s got the itch. She’s just too fancy my-lady-Terisa to show it yet.”
Saddith turned on him and started to unleash a retort, but Ribuld forestalled her by grabbing Argus’ arm and jerking him toward the door, growling, “Oh, shut up, limpwit. There isn’t a woman in Mordant desperate enough to itch for the likes of you.” Argus tried to protest; but Ribuld opened the door and thrust his companion out into the passage. In the doorway, he paused long enough to say over his shoulder, “We’ll be out here all night, my lady” – struggling to sound respectful against his natural inclination – “if you need us for anything.”
The door cut off Argus’ burst of laughter.
Saddith rolled her eyes in affectionate ridicule, then moved to set her tray down on one of the tables. “As I was saying, my lady, if this fare is not to your liking, you need only tell me. The cooks of Orison are an unruly lot, but I am sure they will attempt to provide whatever you wish.
“First, however,” she went on, “you must have light.” Briskly, she went to the hearth, found a twig among the kindling, lit it, and used it to begin lighting the candies and lamps.
As the illumination in the room grew, the glow from the windows seemed to fade to darkness almost immediately, closing away any view Terisa might have had of the world outside. Unexpectedly, she felt a mild disappointment. She had missed an opportunity to look out and see what Orison was, where and how it was situated, what kind of environment surrounded it. Earlier, she had shied away from that knowledge; now she wanted it. Her nap must have done her more good than she realized.
That probably also explained why she did seem to be a little hungry. Dismissing the question of the windows, she went to look at the food.
It was familiar and surprising: as familiar as the language spoken by the people of this strange place; as surprising as the fact that these people spoke a language nearly identical to her own. To all appearances, the plate held a thick slice of ham garnished with borage and accompanied by brown bread, Swiss cheese, and string beans; the goblet contained a pale red wine. And, in fact, the ham was unmistakable, as was the bread. Under closer inspection, however, the borage smelled more like thyme, the beans were of a slightly different shape and color than any she had seen before, and in spite of its firm texture the cheese tasted like tofu. The wine carried a gentle tang of cinnamon.