She pointed, and under the last wisps of sunset, I could see the gap in the mountains. Three miles, but I could blot it all out with my thumb.
"And that"s the nearest habitation?"
"Yes, why? Were you wanting to visit somebody, then?" There was merriment in her voice. "I suppose we could all make a trip of it once we"re settled, if the weather holds. There"s not much to see, of course - just some farms and a lot of very temperamental goats. I"m not sure how the locals would feel about the neighboring lords descending upon them like an army, though."
Just three miles - yet impossibly far away. Having spent four days twisting through the endless bleak press of stone and trees, I was beginning to have an idea of what a "wide pa.s.s" through these mountains might mean.
CHAPTER EIGHT.
We settled in to Bryn Shaer with as much efficiency as the rest of our journey. The brand-new Lodge had been readied for our arrival by a party of servants who"d been sent on ahead, led by Yselle, the Nemair"s handpicked Corles housekeeper. The family rooms were on the second floor, above the central public gathering s.p.a.ces of the Round Court, Lesser Court, Armory, and a half dozen other large and nearly identical rooms an ordinary person would need a map to keep straight. Phandre and I followed Meri upstairs, through a long corridor of dark paneling, flickering torchlight, and impossibly soft rugs beneath our feet. Shadowy and silent - a thief"s dream.
Meri led the way a little uncertainly, pausing in stairwells and looking down hallways with a little frown. Twisting her silver necklace in her fingers, she pushed open a door midway down the second floor, and halted in the threshold. Phandre shoved her way past, and let out a long, low whistle. Curious, I followed, leaving Meri lingering in the doorway.
Inside, I wanted to laugh. I had been in n.o.bs" bedrooms before - but city rooms, and never with the lamps lit. And never to stay. Even the rooms at Favom couldn"t compare to this. The top floor of my entire Gerse rooming house would have nestled comfortably in Meri"s Bryn Shaer bedroom, with its high plaster ceilings, wall of leaded windows, and ornate carved fireplace, already burning with a merry glow. And the bed - that bed. It was all I could do not to fling myself atop it and roll on the velvet coverlet like a happy dog in a pile of muck.
"Meri," Phandre announced, "I do believe I love you."
Meri still hesitated, but Phandre grabbed her hands and yanked her inside.
"At Charicaux, my window overlooked a garden," Meri said faintly. "There was a pear tree right below, and a dove that would sit in its branches and sing to me."
"Charicaux?" I said, adding, "Milady?"
"Durrel"s house."
She looked so lost and forlorn I couldn"t help myself. I swung an arm around her shoulders. "Well, my last rooms in Gerse looked out on a sewage ca.n.a.l, and my room at the convent didn"t have a window, so I think this is magnificent."
Meri gave me a weak smile, but leaned her dark head against my shoulder, her skin sparking faintly as her hair brushed my cheek.
As part of the gathering-in before Meri"s kernja-velde, Bryn Shaer was preparing to host any number of visiting n.o.bs (among them several prospective husbands for Meri), and apparently there weren"t enough servants for all that work. Which is how I found myself, obscenely early the next morning, in the chilly courtyard with Phandre, beating clouds of dust from feather mattresses we"d dragged out of the guest apartments and draped over the paddock fence. The morning was misty and gray; the air smelled of smoke and damp and age, as if with every violent strike of the staves, we were beating some forgotten Bryn Shaerin generation from the linen and down.
"I could be in" - thwup - "Tratua right now" - thwup - "eating grapes from the fingers of Maharal serving boys." Thwup. Phandre brushed an armful of hair from her smudged face and leaned on her staff. "But no! I"m stuck here, at the a.r.s.e end of nowhere, with mousy Meri and General Lyllace, playing scullery maid with you!" She gave another savage thrust to the bed. It was a miracle she didn"t poke a hole in it. Hastily I rescued the mattress and moved it to the stack of clean beds waiting to be returned to the castle. I stayed well out of her range and kept the bed between us - Phandre didn"t know how to wield a staff as a weapon, but she had annoyance on her side and I wasn"t entirely sure she wouldn"t crack me upside the skull.
And then I"d have to rough her up a little, and n.o.body wanted that.
We were both beginning to suspect the truth of it all, though. The grown-up Lady Merista would be expected to know all there was to managing a fine household, and if Phandre and I had any hope of landing husbands in our lady"s wake, so would we. There was no sense objecting to this plan; if it came down to it, I didn"t think the Nemair could make me marry somebody. And Phandre didn"t dare protest: She was almost nineteen and an orphan; it was past time she cultivated a few a.s.sets that would please a farsighted suitor, and everybody knew it.
And so we all three were to have instruction in housekeeping, tending the stillroom, cheese making, needlework, and the torture of innocent mattresses with technique that would do a Greenman proud. As I hefted the next bed onto the hurdle of twisted vines and twigs, Lady Lyllace sailed by, Meri hard at her heels. Lyllace was rattling off instructions even Yselle would have strained to take in, but Meri was practically beaming - like a puppy thrilled to be included in the games of its older fellows. She was settling in nicely; as her mother"s shadow, she"d shed her ner vous ness. Or maybe she just preferred housework to luxury.
Lyllace paused a moment to inspect our work, nodding briskly. "Good. Stacking the beds like this will keep the moist air out. Be sure you get them back inside before too long, though. We don"t want them to mildew."
I thought I saw Phandre"s knuckles whiten. Meri gave us a little wave as she scurried after her mother.
"That woman! You"d think she owned the whole mountain, the way she gives orders."
"I like her," I said - not entirely to annoy Phandre.
Phandre glared at me. "You would."
Late that night, we tucked ourselves beside the roaring fire in Meri"s bedroom. With the addition of a few more luxuries we"d nicked from adjoining bedchambers - a huge Kurkyat tuffet, a Tratuan gla.s.s serving set, a weird painting of a girl wearing a snail amulet on her forehead - we had put the final polish on a set of apartments definitely worthy of a n.o.blewoman on the rise and her two loyal retainers. I stretched my feet out onto the tuffet and bent my head back to watch the shadows leap against the sculpted plaster ceiling. In the distance, the barking of dogs carried on the night wind.
Meri was curled on a cushioned bench, reading aloud from a book of history. "Oh, hear this," she"d say, quoting us some long dry pa.s.sage about strategy at Valdoth Bridge or the heroic deaths of Sarist soldiers at Aarn. Her silver off, I watched the sparkling dust motes swim about her face and hands. There was something fascinating about it, like the sparkle of a ring on a n.o.b"s finger, moving through a crowded market - dangerous and forbidden and right here where I could touch it, if I just reached out. What did that feel like, to Meri? Was the silver restrictive, like a corset or too many hairpins? Did she feel a rush of power when she took those necklaces off?
Phandre pinched one of the Tratuan gla.s.ses in her fingers, admiring the way the lamplight played on its gold-dusted rim. "You know, it"s a shame to waste these," she said. "We really ought to properly inaugurate our new home."
"How?" Meri asked eagerly.
"I"ll bet this place has an impressive wine cellar."
Meri nodded. "It does. They grow fine grapes in Breijardarl."
"And that steward looked like he hadn"t missed many nightly libations." That was me.
Phandre grinned. "Excellent. Why don"t we see what we can dig up, then?" Her eyes turned pointedly to me. I almost laughed. I was the obvious choice for such a mission, of course. To Phandre I was expendable, and she would be only too happy to get me in trouble, and Meri seemed to think I was bold and daring. I rose and bowed grandly - like a man, not the dainty curtsy of a lady"s maid - then ducked out the door.
As I trotted down the corridors, I built a map of Bryn Shaer in my head. Meri"s rooms were about two minutes from the main kitchens - down two flights of stairs and past the Round Court (a vast room ringed with carved banquet tables, its tapestry-draped walls soaring up to a b.u.t.tressed wooden dome). I skipped past the vaulted entryway and its huge arched doors with the heavy iron bindings locking out the wilderness.
I found my way into the darkened ser vice pa.s.sages, head bowed lest someone see me, but my eyes skirting the shadows, pulling out details. The main kitchens were right behind the central court, and I guessed the wine cellar could be reached fairly easily from somewhere nearby.
Kitchens were never empty, but at this hour they should be quiet; I went a few yards past the doorway first, to check for cellar entrances, but found none. I quickly concocted an excuse, if some overeager scullery wench discovered me here, and pushed my way in.
The great fire had died to embers, and a boy in a tunic that was almost too small lay curled up on the hearth, one sleeping hand on the rake. A single heavy candle burned in a lamp, a plump gray cat eyed me casually from the sideboard, but I saw no one else.
At last - there beyond the butcher block and the great carving table, a pretty painted door with a new, beautiful lock. I seemed to have found my prize; wine was expensive and servants untrustworthy. I slipped a lock pick from my corset and had the door open before the cat could finish yawning. The cellar stairs disappeared into inky blackness, so I borrowed the lamp and let myself down.
Bryn Shaer"s wine stores were not quite so impressive as Phandre might have hoped; a few well-stocked racks and behind them, several casks of ale and barrels of wine and mead, but beyond those, the cellars sank deeper into darkness. I cast my lamp into the shadows but caught up nothing but a startled mouse, staring at me with wide dark eyes that for a brief amusing moment made me think of Meri. I turned my attentions to the racks, turning over the dusty bottles to find something suitable - nothing too expensive, or someone would notice it was missing; but nothing too cheap either, or what was the point?
Tegen would have chosen a bottle of rare sparkling Grisel from Corlesanne, and nicked the special fluted gla.s.ses to go with it. We would have shared the bottle right here, getting recklessly drunk and leaving the bottle and gla.s.ses behind, "So they"d know we were here."
Suddenly I didn"t want the wine anymore.
With a sigh, I tucked a bottle under my arm and went back upstairs. The door locked as easily as it had opened, and the fire boy slept on. The cat gave me a reproachful look, and I saluted him with the bottle.
That was when I heard the voices, and saw the crack of light beneath a door on the far side of the kitchen - the door to Lady Lyll"s stillroom.
If I"d been a smart little lady"s maid, I"d have scurried back upstairs to the roaring fire and cracked open the wine warming under my arm. But the smooth wood, and the hushed voices behind it, were just too tempting. I crept closer, and was rewarded by Lady Lyllace"s voice, but her normally low, soft tones had turned fierce and definite.
"You tell milord that we are very grateful to Reynart, but that he and his men must leave."
If her companion made a response, I couldn"t hear it.
"I don"t care - pay them off if you have to. No, you have my permission. Now good night."
Metal sc.r.a.ped on stone, and a heavy door creaked shut - the stillroom must have a door that led out to the kitchen gardens. A moment later, the splinter of light opened up, and Lady Lyllace stepped out. I sprang away from the door before it could crack me in the head, but that was the last of my advantage.
"Celyn! You startled me!" Lady Lyllace clapped a hand to her chest. I had never seen her so informally dressed: in just a dark kirtle, her smock sleeves rolled up to her elbows. She dumped a bundle of laundry by the fire, briskly crossed the darkened kitchen to the sink, where fresh water was pumped in from underground springs, and set about scrubbing her hands with the cake of soap. "What in the world are you doing, wandering about at this time of night?"
"Meri - Lady Merista wanted some wine," I said. Not one of my better cover stories, but how else would I explain the bottle in my hand? Why should I, a mere maid-in-waiting, presume to think my lady was not ent.i.tled to a bottle of wine in her own home?
Lady Lyllace glanced toward the cellar door as she dried her hands on her ap.r.o.n. "The wine cellar is supposed to be locked," she said, a note of mild reproach in her voice. But she sounded distracted.
"It was on the counter," I said hastily.
She gave me a look that said she didn"t believe me, but girls with lock picks clearly didn"t figure into her household accounting. "Hmm." She held out her hand, and I found myself handing the bottle over. She glanced at the label and pursed her lips briefly. "I"ll have to have a word with Yselle about leaving valuable supplies lying about. Water it well, Celyn. Merista is younger than you, and it"s late." To my surprise, she handed the bottle back to me.
I quickly bowed my head. "Yes, milady."
Together we turned back toward the wing where the family was staying. As we walked, Lyllace gave me a bemused smile. "Celyn, why do I think you were probably one of those girls who gave the Holy Daughters fits trying to keep up with your mischief?"
Surprised, I had to laugh.
CHAPTER NINE.
Late morning sun streamed through Meri"s windows, making golden puddles on the polished wood floor. I stretched and gazed up at the embroidered canopy with its frolicking deer and fat rabbits. On the table beside the bed - close enough for me to put out my hand and touch it - was a pitcher of fresh cream, a plate of pears and honey, and half a loaf of steaming oat bread. Draped across my feet was a mantle of soft white fur, edged in gold; at the foot of the carved wood bedstead, an inlaid trunk, stuffed with linen smocks so fine I could see my hand through them.
And tucked into a hollow between the herb-scented mattress and the wall, three gold crowns, a dozen silver marks, and a jet ring somebody wasn"t using anymore. I was going to have to find a better hiding place for those. Another time. I turned over in the bed, breathing deeply the scent of crisp white linen sheets n.o.body had ever slept in before.
I heard the sound of the curtain rings being shoved apart, and more sunlight flooded the rooms. Meri stood before me, fully dressed, her hands on her hips and cheeks pink from her early morning ride with her parents.
"Get up!" she cried gaily. "I am to inform you that my lady mother says it"s deplorable how lazy you and Phandre have gotten. We have guests arriving today, and you are both to report immediately to the courtyard to greet them." She flung my kirtle at my head.
"Lazy!" Phandre stepped out of the little maid"s room adjacent to Meri"s bedroom. "You have no idea how much work it is, trying to make a good impression on the household staff." She yawned elaborately. "I was up all hours last night explaining the problem with my door latch to Ludo."
"We heard you," I said, although it was untrue, and Meri shrieked with laughter and turned scarlet.
Phandre just looked haughtily at me, then marched over and carried away the entire tray of food.
"Beast," I said.
"Guttersnipe," she called back as she kicked her door shut. Meri"s chambers had a bedroom with an adjacent dressing room, a sitting room, and a small, spare bedroom for her ladies-in-waiting, which Phandre had appropriated on sight. I couldn"t mind that much; there were only two beds, and if I had to share with somebody, at least Meri gave off some body heat.
The thing was, I had gotten lazy, and it was deplorable. Lady Nemair"s workload notwithstanding, after two weeks at Bryn Shaer, all my instincts were dulling. Having every thing provided for me was making me soft, and I loved it. I added to my little squirrel h.o.a.rd out of habit, without the thrill it should have brought me. I refused to think about what I was going to do when winter was over. That was an entire lifetime from now, and I was determined to enjoy this one as long as I could.
I unrolled the blue dress Meri had thrown at me and climbed out of bed. Even the floors at Bryn Shaer were warm; you could pad around barefoot, but why? The leather slippers they"d given me had pearls sewn around the collar. Tucked alongside my shoes in my very own clothes chest was the Decath dagger Durrel had given me. I"d been wearing it strapped to my leg, a curiosity Meri had noticed but never commented upon, but this morning I just held it up to the sunlight and looked at the bowing dog on the pommel.
"I miss him," Meri said quietly. She"d sat on the edge of the bed; her feet almost reached the floor.
"I know," I said, but I was thinking not of her cousin, but of another man with a knife.
"You must miss your - young man too." When I looked sharply at her, she smiled. "I hear you dreaming, sometimes."
Marau"s b.a.l.l.s. I didn"t remember those dreams, I just woke sweating and disoriented and sick with fear.
"It must have been very romantic," Meri pressed. "I gather your brother didn"t approve."
For a moment I was confused, then had to choke back my laugh, imagining what my brother - Celyn"s invented brother - would have made of Tegen. I put the dagger back in the trunk and dropped the lid. "That was a different lifetime," I said.
Out in the courtyard, we cl.u.s.tered together among the bustle of wagons and bodies pouring in. It was probably one of the last warm afternoons we would see for a while. Golden trees I had seen in the distance just days earlier had given up their leaves, and the black hills seemed to loom even closer. Lord Antoch had warned us that weather in the Carskadons can change suddenly, and although he still took hunting parties out daily to catch the last of the hillside game, we girls were cautioned never to go beyond the outer bailey alone, lest we run afoul of bandits or fall off the mountain. For now, the plea sures inside Bryn Shaer were enough for that warning not to chafe. With nothing but thin air above and endless black rolling forest below, Gerse felt as far away as the moons.
Meri stood flanked by Phandre and me, in a bronze damask coat, her black hair caught up in a gold caul. Her curtsies had become less rigid, the hand she offered to her arriving suitors trembled less. Mountain air was good for her, I thought.
And then wondered why, by the Nameless One, I even cared.
The arrivals of the hour included a merchant and his wares, and the press and swirl of people and goods made it like a n.o.b"s market day. I half expected somebody to break out pipes or start hawking roasted meat on skewers. I stood behind Meri and curtsied and nodded and freed a few coins and rings here and there.
The merchant, a small, bald man in an expensive doublet, seemed well-acquainted with Lady Lyll, walking her through the heaped-up wagons he had dragged up the mountain from Breijardarl. Their laughter carried across the courtyard as Meri hung back shyly.
"That"s Eptin Cwalo," she said. "He"s only a merchant, but he"s very rich, and he has six sons."
"Six?" Phandre broke away, swishing her green silk skirts like the tail of a peac.o.c.k. I shrugged and followed, curious to see what was in all the crates. Probably cheese and beer and wool - but they might have some of the candied Breijard fruit I was coming to love, which I would be more than happy to help unpack. n.o.body would see me in this crowd. I was certain of that. I was peeking beneath the canvas cover on one of the wagons when I heard Meri squeal with delight.
"Uncle Remy!" Meri craned her neck to see over the crowd. "That"s my uncle, Remy Daul - my father"s foster brother. I didn"t know he was coming!"
The man in question strode into the courtyard rather on the heels of everyone else, leading a tense silver horse. He was tall and lean, dressed to accentuate that fact, in a close-cut gray doublet and tight breeches. His hair was impeccably cut, fashionably short, and he wore a thin beard that did not quite conceal the scar twisting the side of his lip. He reminded me of a wolfhound.
"His foster brother?"
"Father lived with him as a boy, and they fought together in the war."
I could believe it. There was a kind of coiled strength in him that reminded me of Tegen, always wound up and ready. He strode across the courtyard as if he owned it, straight to Lady Lyll, who dropped what she was doing to throw her arms around him.
"Remy! Such a surprise! Wherever have you been? We can"t keep track of you."
As a groom scurried in to remove the horse, Lord Daul cracked a slight smile. "Here and there. Olin, recently. Very good hunting there."
Meri was still chattering on. ". . . in a grand house on the Briddjan coast, but he isn"t there much. He"s very much in demand at court as a lunarist, and -"
"Well, go see him." I gave her a little shove, but she froze, rooted to the spot. "What"s the matter?"
"I"ve never met him."
"How do you know it"s him, then?"