“Why should she? I did everything as she requested-everything,”-Brisbois countered hotly. “Without me, she couldn’t have divorced Flinn to marry you. I deserve praise, not blame.” The two walked across the marble floor and through the fifteen-foot-high double doors.
“And I’m glad you did it, Brisbois,” Maldrake rejoined. “Make no doubt about that.” He stopped walking and turned to the knight, his face alight with new thoughts. “Have you made arrangements for our… friend?” Lord Maldrake’s look was maliciously inquisitive.
“The, er, watcher-” Brisbois lowered his voice as a page hurried by “-is in place, if that’s what you mean. It’s unfortunate that it misunderstood my directions before.”
“That’s what has me concerned,” Maldrake put his hand on Brisbois’ arm. “I want you there next time, to make sure everything goes as planned.”
“What?” Brisbois exclaimed. “What if it fails and comes after me? What if I’m seen?”
“It won’t, and you won’t be,” Maldrake leaned closer and lowered his voice to a whisper as two pages and a squire walked down the wide hall. “Teryl has something that will see to that. I’ll give it to you tonight. Besides, you won’t get close enough to be seen. Just make sure it follows orders this time.”
The knight nodded, though his face had darkened perceptibly at the mention of Teryl Auroch, Maldrake’s mage. “All right, Maldrake. However you want it. I just wish you’d hurry this up and get it over with.”
The blond lord smiled toothsomely. “If you take care of our little problem next week, all will run smoothly. It’s as simple as that.” Maldrake smiled again. “Why don’t you come to my quarters in, say, half an hour or so? I’ve got a few orders to leave with the captain of the town guard.”
“Like what?”
Again he flashed the smile. “Like having fifty horses ‘taxed’ from the peasants and delivered to that abandoned logging camp in the Wulfholdes. Horses we can sell to a merchant-a very reliable merchant-arriving next week from Specularum.”
“How are you going to explain this if anyone asks?”
Brisbois said, admiring the younger man’s temerity.
“Easy!” Maldrake crowed. “Without horses, the peasants won’t have to pay taxes for traveling our roads. Therefore, their taxes will be reduced.”
“Brilliant!” Brisbois said. “But what if the baroness hears of this?”
“She won’t. Besides,” Maldrake shrugged nonchalantly, “if she does, I’ll just tell her I’m new to this taxation business and didn’t know any better. After all, what will she do to her crazy cousin’s husband?” Maldrake’s face crinkled into laughter. “See you for dinner!” The lord sauntered down the wide, majestic hallway, laughter bubbling from him.
Brisbois called after his friend, “Is Teryl Auroch going to be there?” He detested the mage and might avoid the dinner if the old conjuror was planning to attend.
“Of course!” cried Lord Maldrake, walking backward. “Yvaughan doesn’t take a step without her advisor. She’s given him permanent quarters in our tower, by the way, so he’s there all the time. Come anyway, you old spoilsport! We have fortunes to build!” The lord turned and continued his way down the immense hall.
Brisbois nodded curtly. He would have dinner with Maldrake and his wife, but only because Maldrake insisted on it. And he would watch Teryl Auroch very, very carefully. That mage had plans-plans Brisbois intended to uncover.
Yvaughan leaned forward, a thin sliver of sweetmeat between her fingers. She dangled it in front of the large bird before her. It was an elegant, lovely bird, and Yvaughan never tired of watching its long and graceful form. The bird’s tail coverts were nearly twice as long as its body, the plumage fine, almost hairy. Its white tail was laced with emerald green plumes. The rest of the bird’s feathers were pure, blazing white, save for an iridescent green crest upon its head.
The bird was a finicky eater, and Yvaughan had spent the last hour coaxing it into eating various goodies. Finally it pecked delicately at the proffered sweet and then greedily ate it all. Yvaughan sighed in relief. The bird’s shy mate, a dove-brown creature that was no less stunning, jumped from its perch to join the cock. In the potted trees dotting the large tower room, dozens of smaller birds roosted and preened. Others took wing, flitting this way and that, filling the room with chirps and exotic calls.
Yvaughan turned around, sighing at the beauty of the place: the rosy marble floor, the white pillars, the tapestries gracing both floors and walls-all kept meticulous by a troop of servants. Potted plants of all sorts provided perches and nesting sites for the birds. From a tiny, well-hidden pool, the noise of falling water filled the air. The furniture in the tower was elegant, yet comfortable and inviting. Even the bars on the windows soothed Yvaughan’s troubled heart. She and her birds lived safe in their tower hideaway, safe from the world and its dangers. Yvaughan never felt alone in this chamber, not like she did in the bedroom at night with her young husband. Strangely enough, only the white bird and his mate ever entered the bedchamber, but even these two beloved pets couldn’t provide the comforting sound that a thousand birds could. The pair roosted at night on the rail above her head, sending Yvaughan to sleep with their cooing.
Seated on a divan before her was her advisor, Teryl Auroch. He was a tiny, wizened man, apparently ancient, though none but he knew his actual age. He sported a mousy brown goatee, currently in vogue at the castle, and a moustache that was so nearly the color of his skin that it was often not seen. His hands, which were white and shapely, moved constantly, as though he suffered from some inner agitation. In contrast to his withered body and jittering hands, the man’s eyes were the brilliant, youthful blue of a summer sky. They inspired trust in Yvaughan.
“Today it is sweets, Teryl,” Yvaughan complained to the man sitting before her. “Yesterday it was grain, the day before it was meat. Will I never know what to feed my lovely pets?” She placed a shallow, gilded container on the granite floor, clucking in sympathy. The two birds milled about and then began eating the sweets it contained. The remaining birds, creatures of lesser glory, fluttered near. The moment the pair had had their fill, the others would swoop down and eat.
Yvaughan rose unsteadily to her feet, her pregnant bulk upsetting her balance. She put a hand to her rounded stomach, said a silent prayer to comfort the child within, and moved slowly to the barred windows. The winter sun had already set, so she could see little outside the tower window save for a few lights being lit in the country houses. Her husband should arrive soon. Yvaughan was glad Baroness Arteris no longer insisted that they join the other nobles and knights for the evening meal. The public meals made only for political posturing and simpering.
Yvaughan leaned against the damask drapes that outlined the tall window before her. She was nearing forty and late to childbearing, but her figure was still strong and graceful, her golden hair still untouched by gray. Although her cornflower-blue eyes were generally untroubled, today they stared emptily. She reached a pale hand out to touch the delicate, wrought-iron bars she had installed on the windows of the tower to prevent her beloved birds’ escape.
Baron Arturus, her uncle, had granted her the tower on her wedding day. He and she had spent many happy times together in the tower conservatory, one floor above. The conservatory’s plants and birds had inspired Yvaughan to begin the slow transformation of the rest of the tower. Soon all four floors would harbor birds and plants and pools of water. Yvaughan smiled. Her uncle would have been proud of all she had accomplished.
Then she frowned. Her happy childhood had ended when Arturus gained a daughter of his own and had no time for his young niece. How happy I was before Arteris, the woman thought, when my uncle loved me best of all. Yvaughan’s parents had died from plague shortly after her birth, and her uncle had raised her as his own. As his wife seemed unable to bear children, Yvaughan had been brought up as his only heir. But the birth of Arteris had spoiled all that.
Yvaughan sat on the divan next to the mage. “You’ve been very good to me, Teryl,” she smiled. “I’m so glad I could persuade you to leave your studies and join me here at the castle. I don’t know what I would have done without you the last two years.”
“I am also glad, lady,” Teryl said in his high-pitched voice. “Though your husband had a hand in the persuading, too, I might add.”
“Fain?” Yvaughan’s voice was tinged with hysteria. “Have you seen him? Fain Flinn is returning? Where is
