'She's here!' shouted the prince of the north, raising his fist triumphantly.
'
Brandon took them all in with his smile, the wide grin of a man who has just sworn his love for life or has beheld his newborn son for the first time.
And then Alicia knew. She remembered the partially completed hull she had seen in Gnarhelm that spring, the sleek vessel that Brandon had told her would be his own. Even among the builders' stays she had been a grand vessel, and the princess had no doubt that the same ship now awaited them in the harbor of Corwell.
'This is a ship I would take to the edge of the world and sail her along the brink!' declared the northman, his voice thick with pride. 'The work was finished in record time, and I left word in Gnarhelm, weeks ago, to bring her here as soon as she was ready to sail.'
Now Alicia saw that he eyed her seriously, his expression unusually tentative.
'We shall sail to Evermeet on the grandest vessel of Gnarhelm,' Brandon said, his voice thick with pride. 'And that vessel required a name befitting her grandness. I hope you can forgive my presumption.'
Alicia started at the uncharacteristic humility in his tone. Then her blood thrilled and her throat choked as she understood what he meant.
'She is called the
For a long time, Deirdre tried to avoid her mirror, even going to the extent of covering it with the leather wrap and stacking books and scrolls on top of it. In truth, she was terribly tired. She had spent the night in Synnoria relearning her teleportation spell and then, before dawn, she used it to return to Corwell.
Then she had fallen into a slumber that had lasted for two full days-and even now, on the third day, her mind was reluctant to focus. Instead, she found her thoughts drifting to the mirror.
Finally she gave up her resistance, slowly lifting the top books from the stack. She quickly pushed the other volumes out of the way and tore away the cover. Palpable relief swept over her when she saw the comforting reflection in the glass.
Then the picture shimmered, and she settled down to observe her sister and her companions making their plans.
The companions' return to Caer Corwell was marked by an enthusiastic crowd of Ffolk who poured out of the town to line the roadway as soon as the party was sighted. The appearance of the elf among them was greeted by wild cheers.
Immediately upon reaching the courtyard, Robyn ordered a grand feast for those lords and Ffolk still in Corwell. The occasion was a farewell banquet for those who would embark to Evermeet-and also, a memorial and tribute to the queen's lifelong friend, Lord Pawldo of Lowhill.
Tavish sang songs about love and triumphant heroes while the guests mingled about the great hall, beginning the carousing that would go on far into the night. Dozens of kegs were tapped, and ales from palest amber to darkest mahogany overfilled deep and oft-inverted mugs, while the smells of succulent roasts drifted through the hall. Nevertheless, this was not nearly such a grand gathering as the festival of ten days earlier.
The entire affair was held within the keep of the palace.
Keane sensed the preparations for the feast as a vague background confusion against his concentration on the mission before them. The voyage to Evermeet, he guessed, offered the companions a less than fifty percent chance of survival. He had tried to dissuade the queen and the princesses together, and each separately, from participating in the quest. He hadn't expected to succeed with even one of the accursedly stubborn females, but in the case of Deirdre, he found an ally in the queen.
Robyn would not allow the entire family to embark on the quest, and she had decreed that it would be Deirdre who remained behind. The younger daughter had agreed with this suggestion too willingly for Keane's peace of mind. He let his mind consider the younger princess with an undeniable shiver of concern.
How had she known about the Elf-Eater-its rampage, or the means to vanquish it? And what unerring sense had brought her right to the scene of the fight, just when her presence could make a difference? How much did she know-and how did she learn it? A cautionary part of him wanted to remain in Corwell to observe the frightening development of Deirdre's power.
Yet Keane never questioned the importance of his own presence on the mission to rescue the king. Without his spells, the expedition's slim survival chances would be drastically decreased, in the mage's well-considered and unemotional opinion.
He spent many hours in study, and in the transcribing of spells from his great, leather-bound spellbook to a smaller volume that he would take with him aboard the
Not that he had any doubts as to the young northman's proficiency as a sailor. In fact, the root of his jealousy was quite the opposite-Brand was such a fine sailor that he was bound to gain stature in the eyes of the Princess Alicia. Keane, on the other hand, would go on being. . well, Keane.
Still, there was no question of him remaining behind. He thought of Alicia, touching the private part of his heart, the only place where he dared admit the truth. Keane had finally allowed himself to admit that he loved the princess, had loved her since she was little more than a girl. Always he had remained aloof, keeping this part of himself locked away, but he could no longer deny it. He would follow Alicia Kendrick to the farthest corner of the Realms if she set out in that direction.
Of course, Brandon Olafsson would probably be there waiting for them, Keane reflected ruefully. He came to the same woeful conclusion when he considered his other competitor. Hanrald, Earl of Fairheight, seemed like such a confident and capable suitor, and if he didn't press his case with as much vigor as Brandon, he remained a strong and manly presence. Gloomily the magic-user pondered his rivals-if he himself could even be called a participant in that contest.
There were times when he felt that such was not the case. He thought of Alicia's undiluted vitality. In the Palace of the Ages, she had been the one to voice the humans' resentment of Llewyrr arrogance. He had admired her when she had challenged the Serene Matriarch, even as he realized that he could not have uttered such statements himself.
Both the other men were closer to Alicia's age at twenty, and while Keane had a mere eight years on them, there were times when he felt three decades older. Alicia, Brand, and Hanrald were also all people of action. The two Ffolk were splendid riders, the northman a magnificent sea captain. Keane, on the contrary, felt equally uncomfortable bouncing on horseback or pitching deck.
Stop this! Angrily he rebuked himself, realizing that he might precipitate a dive into a dangerous depression. Fifteen minutes had passed since last he had dipped his quill into the inkwell! With a shake of his head, he forced himself to look at his work. Eventually the discipline that had enabled him, at a relatively young age, to master many spells that most magic-users never learned in all their lives allowed him to focus on his preparations.
Three hours later, he was done. He took another fifteen minutes to shave and don a clean tunic and trousers, arriving in the great hall just as the main course-roasts of venison and boar-was served.
As luck would have it, Hanrald had saved him a place at the head table, placing the tutor between the earl himself and Deirdre. Brigit and Alicia sat across the table from them.
'Nice you could join us,' said Alicia, her tone cool. Obviously she had expected him earlier.
'I had a little work to do … if I'm going to be ready to sail tomorrow.'
'At least we have an afternoon tide,' Brandon noted, from down the table. He leaned forward and grinned at Keane. He obviously enjoyed the mage's exchange with Alicia.
'I'll be ready,' Keane promised, his tone more grim than he intended. He saw Alicia looking at him curiously. Was that concern on her face or annoyance?
Servingmaids brought more pitchers of ale and a few bottles of Calishite rum. They drank toasts with the latter and washed down the rum with the former.
As they talked and ate, Keane found his eyes drawn to Brigit. The elfwoman was mostly silent, speaking only in answer to questions, and then in a soft tone that precluded further discussion in the crowded hall.
