The pillow heaved itself up, tottered, and collapsed again. The poker clattered to the flagstones and rolled away. I walked over slowly to see what I had made.
At first I thought there had been no change at all. The poker certainly looked no different. But then I realized that all my pencils had turned pink, and when I picked up the pillow I discovered it had grown what seemed to be three primordial feet at one end. I tickled them experimentally but got no response-not even a twitch.
Oh, well. I hadn’t really expected it to work anyway. I said the words that should have returned the pillow to itself, but the feet obstinately remained. I put it on Evrard’s bed and sat down again.
Even if I couldn’t work the spell myself-and I wasn’t at all sure the old ducal wizard had been able to either- this was what I had hoped to find. But though I knew now that a wizard could have made the great horned rabbits with natural magic, I still didn’t know which wizard might have done so.
But I was going to find out. No other wizard could practice magic under my nose like this with impunity.
I caught glimpses through my rain-streaked windows of figures hurrying across the courtyard and realized it must be noon. But I was not hungry. I opened the book again but was interrupted almost immediately by a knock at my door.
It swung open even before I had a chance to speak, and Dominic’s massive form stood blocking the doorway and dripping water on my floor. He closed his streaming umbrella. “I would like a word with you.”
“Of course,” I said in surprise and pulled up a straight wooden chair for him, not sure it would support his weight but not wanting him soaking through the cushions on my bigger chairs. “Is it about the great horned rabbits?”
He glowered at me, pulled off his jacket, and sat down. The chair creaked but held. “It’s about that huntsman with the duchess.”
“Nimrod?”
“Clearly a false name,” said Dominic without hesitation.
“What about him?”
Dominic looked out the window at the indistinct courtyard, then turned to glare at me again. If he had any confidence in my abilities, you couldn’t have told it from that look. “Before the king left, he told me to consult with you or the chaplain on all important matters. I’m not sure why he wanted me as regent if he didn’t even trust my judgment, but I shall obey his commands, of course.”
What a disappointment. And I had imagined the other day that he himself actually wanted my advice.
“And what important matter has come up now?”
“Isn’t it obvious, even to you?” said Dominic with a scowl. It crossed my mind that far too many people had been scowling here in my chambers lately, including me. “Duchess Diana acts toward that low-born giant like a flirtatious girl, and he’s eating it up.”
It had not been obvious to me, but then I had been too pre occupied with the question of how someone was making great horned rabbits to pay much attention. “Don’t you think the duchess is old enough to take care of herself?” I asked.
Dominic made a sound that was half a snort and half a growl. “All I know is that she met some hunter out of the woods, took him home to her castle with her, and now has brought him here. If she wants to play fast and loose with her dignity at home, that’s one thing, but as regent of Yurt I can’t have her doing it here in the royal castle. That’s why I want you to have a quiet conversation with her, tell her that her behavior has gone beyond respectable bounds.”
“
“Of course you. Why do you think I came to talk to you? She’s always seemed to like you, for some odd reason, whereas I’m afraid she might deliberately do the opposite of whatever I suggested, just to irritate me.”
He had a point. “I’ll try to find a chance sometime today,” I said reluctantly.
“What’s wrong with right now?” demanded Dominic. Being regent certainly seemed to have put steel resolve into his usually lethargic personality. “It’s lunch time. You can observe her behavior at the table for yourself and talk to her immediately afterwards.”
There seemed to be no way out of it. My wish for new challenges was certainly being granted. I closed the battered volume and got my own umbrella off its hook.
PART THREE — THE OLD WIZARD
I
The chaplain and a few of the ladies had chambers from which one could reach the great hall without going out into the courtyard, but everyone else arrived for lunch dodging through the rain, and a line of wet umbrellas stood against the wall.
I still wasn’t hungry and took only a little soup and none of the meat pie. Gwen gave me a concerned look from the servants’ table, but I had no attention to spare for her. I was trying, as I had promised Dominic, to pay attention to the duchess and Nimrod.
I had to admit that Dominic was right. Nimrod and Diana sat with their heads bent together, talking about topics unrelated to whatever the rest of the table was discussing. In pauses in their conversation, when the duchess was addressing a remark to someone else or just busy eating, I saw the giant huntsman’s blue eyes fixed on her almost caressingly.
The duchess had flirted with me as well when we first met, and my first thought was that this was just more of her teasing. But if so, it didn’t seem fair to Nimrod, who was taking it quite seriously. She had never married because, as far as I could tell, she had never met a man who could keep up with her. I had sometimes wondered if Diana realized that her tendency to keep those around her off balance, to do or say things just to see the reaction she got, was in its own way highly predictable.
But now her behavior seemed oddly out of character even for someone as determined to be outrageous as Diana. There had always before been limits. She enjoyed being a member of the aristocracy, as much as she enjoyed behaving like no other duchess in the western kingdoms, and would no more have given up her castle and her authority than I would have given up magic. Dominic was right that Nimrod could not possibly aspire to be her social equal, despite his surprisingly cultivated speech and good manners. For that reason, I tried to reassure myself, whatever the regent might think, her obvious affection for a hunter without status or family would never lead to any permanent liaison or even anything seriously harmful to her reputation.
As everyone stood up from lunch, I went over to her chair. It was one thing dealing with magical challenges in the king’s absence, but it really would become complicated if I had to deal with everyone’s personal problems as well. “Could I have a private word with you, my lady?”
Diana agreed at once. Nimrod smiled at her and walked away-I assumed things hadn’t proceeded so far that they shared their chambers. Dominic caught my eye and nodded, an abrupt motion with his chin. For once he approved.
The rain had let up enough that the duchess and I, our umbrellas spread over us, were able to walk rather than run to the door of her chamber and arrive relatively dry. “Have a seat,” Diana said, taking off her cloak. “It’s chilly enough that I’m going to start a fire.”
She knelt at the hearth, put some twigs and wood shavings together against the front of a large log, and soon had a small blaze going-the duchess would never bother calling a servant for something like this. She added some slightly thicker twigs, and in a moment the log was glowing red. Sitting down next to me, she said, “There. That should take the chill off the afternoon.”
The fire had provided only a momentary distraction. I pushed aside my reluctance to speak. “I’d like to ask you something, my lady, and hope I don’t offend you.”
“You haven’t managed to offend me yet,” she said cheerfully.
“You seem to have become very friendly with Nimrod, considering that he just appeared out of the woods a few days ago. What have you learned about him?”
Her gray eyes narrowed slightly, but she was determined not to be offended. “I haven’t been quizzing him
