'She kept asking for things and wouldn't shut up.'
The sprite bit its tiny lip. 'So, just the message then?'
Hy Pezho nodded.
'This message is from the Awakened One. He says that he has confirmed that a meeting will take place between the one called Mauritane and a Seelie Guard called Kallmer in the Rye Grove of Sylvan. Highsun. Fourth Stag. He doesn't know yet what the purpose of the meeting is, nor does Mauritane. He does say that interesting secrets will be revealed about the cuteness of sprites!' The sprite winced. 'That last bit may have been a tiny embellishment on my part.'
'Is that all?'
The sprite looked uncomfortably at the corpse of its former colleague. 'Yep. Gotta run!' It took off backward and flitted out the window before Hy Pezho could catch it.
'Bacamar,' said Hy Pezho. 'Where are you?'
The familiar descended through the overhead canopy. 'I was bathing in the sunlight above, master. Do you have need of me?'
'The prison guard suicide has given us what we need. They're meeting one of the Seelie Guard in Sylvan on Fourth Stag.'
'The Seelie Queen leads a merry chase,' said Bacamar, her lithe tongue extending and receding. 'One presumes that a fascinating business will take place on that day.'
Hy Pezho nodded absently. 'I suppose,' he said. 'I don't really care, to be honest.'
'Nor I,' said Bacamar. She glided down to the floor and curled at Hy Pezho's feet. 'Master?' she said quietly
'Yes, Bacamar?'
'I do not wish to pester you with my own small wants, but I am eager to be with you in the flesh. Are you not as eager as I?'
'I am,' said Hy Pezho.
'It occurs to me,' said Bacamar, 'that if I am to inhabit the body of Queen Mab, then perhaps you will not be attracted to me. At close range she is an old and withered thing. Could I not possess the shape of a comely ladyin-waiting and live with you as your concubine?'
'In time, certainly.' Hy Pezho was amused. 'But we walk a very fine line. We will need a Queen who is… pliable, in order to execute our ultimate aims. Once I am enthroned, then all things are possible.'
'I long to touch you with real flesh, my lord,' said Bacamar. She rose up on her leathery wings and looked him in the eye. 'And I will not be kept waiting forever.'
'I will not keep you waiting, Bacamar.' Hy Pezho rose and stroked her long body, his fingertips passing through her diaphanous skin.
'I understand that you are a man and that you have needs,' said Bacamar, petulant. 'But I do not want the stink of your whores on you when you are mine. Perhaps you might stop bedding them now and save yourself a bath.'
'Jealousy does not become you, servant.'
'You wound me.'
'As you wound me with your mistrust.'
They eyed each other. Hy Pezho took his cape from behind his chair and hurried out of the room, whistling the sprite's tune. Bacamar watched him go, her eyes filled with inhuman lust.
Queen Mab spread a chart on the wide oak table of her council chamber. She pointed to a spot on the map, a city poised at the base of a mountain range that occupied the map's western boundary. The city was within the Seelie Kingdom, less than a hair's breadth from that land's border with the Contested Lands.
'The Contested Lands are narrowest near Sylvan,' she said. 'For years the Seelie have expected an attack from Us there. Regina Titania has historically garrisoned several thousand of the Seelie Army there, along with a phalanx of her Royal Guard. During Midwinter those numbers are increased. Do you see how she gives away a weakness in this manner? In a time when snow and ice would reduce the likelihood of a campaign's success, she fortifies.' She looked around. 'Laese'am, do you have a question?'
'What weakness does Titania reveal by this?'
Mab smiled. 'We do not know. That is what We plan to discover when We take Sylvan on Fourth Stag.'
There was a shocked silence in the room, as each of the Prefects looked to the others, gaping. Only Hy Pezho was not surprised. He sat idly in his wide chair nearest the Queen, his arms folded across his chest.
'There are two great enemies to the south, gentlemen,' said Mab. 'We dealt a crushing blow to one of them when we brought low the city of Gefi. The Arcadian cult will make no further headway with Our subjects this year. But their priests and monks will be planning future incursions even now, and We must take Our war against them to the source.
'Our other foe is far less subtle and far better armed.' A nervous chuckle ran through the chamber. 'But We will tell you a secret about Regina Titania. When winter comes to the Seelie lands, she is weakened. We know this. We have scrutinized her carefully over the centuries, during our elongated cold war. She grows ever weaker as the season progresses and then one day, suddenly, she is renewed. The sun returns to the City Emerald. The ice cracks on the Ebe. All is well within the Great Seelie Keep. We would pay well to know what it is that rejuvenates her. Hy Pezho?'
Hy Pezho rose and cleared his throat, looking out over the assembled Prefects, those high and mighty who only weeks ago would not have acknowledged his existence. They were all watching him now. It was beautiful.
'My father had many spies within the Seelie Kingdom over the years. He lived a long time, and he had an excellent memory. He began to notice a recurring event that took place during the season the Seelie call Midwinter. The story is this: Titania sends out an emissary to some remote corner of her kingdom. The emissary returns to the City Emerald and within a day, the Queen is restored. The emissary and the location are never the same. Nothing else is known.' He leaned forward, stabbing his finger on the map at Sylvan. 'But this time we know who the emissary is. And this time we will be there waiting to discover his errand.'
'Thank you, Hy Pezho. You have done well.' Mab looked around. 'You have all served Us well over the years. We do not need to tell you your orders. Go now and prepare for a southward advance and an assault on the Seelie border. Our trials will soon be at an end!'
Chapter 26
On the day prior to Purane-Es's fete, the Lady Anne received a program booklet containing the promenade route, the seating chart, and the dance cards of the most prominent guests. She sorted through them happily, recalling the days when doing so was joyfully commonplace and dull. She traced the promenade route with her finger through Southmarket out the city wall to the Villa Diosa.
For days, the name of Purane-Es had plagued her. She knew of a Lord Purane who had replaced Mauritane as Guard Captain. Purane-Es was, of course, his second son. But that was not it. What about the first son, PuraneLa? Was that name familiar?
Purane-La.
It was he that Mauritane had murdered, the commander in Beleriand. Of course.
How could she be so foolish? How had she not remembered the name? Two years ago the name of Purane-La had been on many lips, spoken quietly behind waving fans. At her husband's tribunal in the Aeropagus, the elder Purane sat on the side of the kingdom, whispering back and forth with the Queen's solicitor. The high tribunal was a long smear in her memory, three months of shame and horror that culminated in her exile. She had not wanted to remember.
Surely this Purane-Es was not as stupid as she. Certainly he had not forgotten. What, then, was his
