King Hadros, as he hoped, had not consulted a Seer in a great many years, if ever-he tried to appear knowledgeable, but Kardan thought he could sense both unease and a curiosity even beyond wondering what they might hear. As they rode up to the Mirror-seer’s lake, Kardan explained the use of mirrors of voima to see the reflection of a reality far beyond the little valley. He let the slightest patronizing note slip occasionally into his voice.
But he had no chance to show off the wisdom and abilities of his Seer. The little round man was not in his cottage. He did not answer their knock, either the first quiet rap or repeated hammering.
The two kings stood hesitating on the dock before the closed door. Small waves broke against the shore, making the lake’s reflection of the surrounding forest and mountains break and shiver. “No more use than a Weaver,” said Hadros thoughtfully. “I presume he would still refuse to come to the door if you threatened to burn his house with him in it?”
Kardan glanced at him quickly, hoping he was not serious, then looked away, fearing he was.
“Or maybe he’s just gone out for a stroll,” suggested Hadros. He put his shoulder to the door and pushed. The wood around the lock was dry and weather-worn and cracked under his weight.
The door swung back with a creak. “What should he have in here?” asked Hadros, peering into the darkness.
Kardan looked too, but there was nothing to see. The little cottage was empty: not even a fishing rod. The only sign the Seer had ever lived here were his two mirrors on a shelf on the far wall.
Hadros tapped his foot on the dock. “Anything else worth seeing, Kardan, as long as you’ve brought me up here?”
Kardan took a deep breath, not wanting to admit how startled he was by the Seer’s disappearance. “You can see Graytop from here,” he said, pointing, “where Karin tried to tell me she saw a Wanderer.”
“She did not tell me about any Wanderer,” said Hadros. “Probably knew too well what I would answer to that! Even though,” with less certainty, “I cannot doubt her as easily as I once would have. But,” with certainty again and a sideways glance at Kardan, “I do know she and Valmar visited this Seer during the All-Gemot. Perhaps something they asked of him has made him retreat now. That was the night,” with a slight emphasis, “those two young people passed the entire night together.”
Kardan could feel the heat rising up his neck to his cheeks and ears. “For that insult I ought to kill you,” he said between his teeth, fumbling his sword loose and thinking that he should still have agility on his side even if not mass.
But Hadros darted out a hand and took him by the wrist, pinning him with his sword half-drawn. “No insult, my friend,” he said, smiling as though he enjoyed this. “Just a simple statement of fact. All my men saw Valmar and Karin return together in the early morning.”
He gestured placatingly with his other hand. “But just because young people are sometimes foolish need not mean wisdom cannot still prevail. No one will say that Valmar made her his by the strong hand! I was planning to come see you shortly anyway, to make an offer for her. Karin deserves a fine bride-price.”
Kardan, who had been struggling unsuccessfully against Hadros’s grip, went still. He did not want to believe it, except that it explained too well her strange moods since the end of the All-Gemot. This too she had kept from him. And she must have spent the night willingly with Valmar, or she would not have asked to keep the boy with her.
He closed his eyes briefly as Hadros released his wrist. “A marriage between your heir and my heiress would unite our kingdoms in friendship,” he heard himself saying. “But no! If she told you she would marry Roric-”
“Then she has changed her mind. You and I have both known maids to change their thinking, have we not, my friend?” with a nudge and a broad wink. “Either she now has changed her mind again and gone off with Roric in my ship, or she has fled with Valmar to get away from him. And,” and now he suddenly became absolutely serious, “Roric had better not have touched my son.”
“I know where she has gone if not to your kingdom,” said Kardan suddenly into the following silence. “We do not need the Mirror-seer to tell us. And we can follow her in one of my skiffs while they finish caulking and soaking the ship, because she should still be on this side of the channel, not too many miles away. Whoever Karin is with, she may have fled to the court of Queen Arane.”
Queen Arane, delicate in white silk, looked up in surprise as the two kings, their boots loud, crossed the black and white chequered stone floor of her hall. They had come straight up from the harbor, still wearing their salt- stained cloaks, and in this gracious court Kardan suddenly felt as large and coarse and out of place as the man next to him.
But the queen smiled pleasantly and summoned a page with a wave of one hand to set out a bench for them. They settled themselves slowly, Kardan wondering how best to demand his daughter, whom he had expected to see here beside her.
“King Hadros, King Kardan,” Arane said, looking from one to the other with a pretty smile. “You must want some ale after a thirsty day. Or would you like wine, Kardan? I know that you, Hadros, prefer the ale of my maids’ brewing. My days here so dull that I am happy for any company, but your particular company would be welcome to anyone! And would you care to join me for dinner?”
Hadros cut her off, leaning forward on the bench with his eyebrows bristling. “We have known each too long for such formalities, Arane. We seek the Princess Karin.”
The queen’s shoulders gave a slight jerk; Kardan, watching her closely, thought it surprise rather than guilt. “But I have not seen her since the All-Gemot!” she protested, lifting delicate hands. “I thought she was back home in your kingdom now, Kardan. Why should she come here?”
“I think she trusts you,” he answered slowly, still watching her reaction. “She has either been kidnapped or eloped, either with Valmar, Hadros’s heir, or with Hadros’s foster-son Roric.”
Arane started to frown at the mention of Roric but covered it up with a tinkling laugh. “And you think that she and the man she is with, either willingly or unwillingly, would have fled here? Come, both of you must know there is no room at my court for women who cannot make up their own minds!”
Kardan and Hadros glanced at each other. Now that they had set it out baldly, Kardan thought, it did rather sound as though either Karin herself or the two kings were very confused.
“I can assure your two majesties that she has never set foot in my kingdom,” said the queen confidently. “If she has been kidnapped you will of course need to rescue her, as she is a strong-minded woman who will be a good queen someday. We must plan together how to find her. Let me insist you first join me in dinner, as it will soon be the hour. My page will show you to the bath house.”
The stones in the bath house were already hot. The obliging page brought them towels and clean clothes, a little too big for Kardan, a little too small for Hadros, with deep creases as though they had come from the bottom of a chest.
They stripped, steamed, and scrubbed off the grime, taking turns with the bundle of birch twigs. Kardan thought that the queen seemed much more interested in pleasantries and intrigue than in giving them answers, and, in spite of his earlier certainty, she really did not appear to have Karin with her. Somehow, he did not know how, Arane had taken the initiative away from them.
She kept the initiative all through dinner, serving them from the platter with her own hands, bringing out a honey-colored wine for Kardan, telling them amusing stories of little incidents at her court. Kardan noticed that she never once mentioned her nephew, the prince who had drowned at the same time as his own son.
“So you can assure us,” said King Hadros at last, in much better humor than he had been in two hours before, “that you have no idea where the princess or my son have gone?”
“No idea at all,” she said, her blue eyes wide and innocent. “You can ask anyone at my court, and they will all give you the same answer.”
“What is our next alternative then, Hadros?” asked Kardan. “Back to your kingdom?”
“Faster and more likely than spending any more time sailing up and down this side of the channel.”
“This is fascinating,” said the queen, leaning her elbows on the table to look at them, “a princess running away with her true love, but you are not sure who that true love might be.” For a second, Kardan thought she knew more than she had said, but it was too late to try to learn it from her. “And even a sense in it of the lords of voima! This is the sort of tale I love to hear.”
“It’s not a tale,” said Hadros brusquely. “This is real.”
“ Everything becomes a tale once it has happened,” said Queen Arane, still smiling. She looked from one to
