“Where do you fit in?” I asked.
She made a face. “Jason told me early on I’d marry whoever he told me to, for alliance purposes.”
“That doesn’t sound like war.”
“Probably to get more warriors for his plans.”
“Ah.”
“So that horrible Garian arrived in Lathandra to court me. See, Drath’s small, up here in the border mountains, but because of the gem mines and the wine it’s rich. He pays lip service to your father and to Dantherei and the rest of the kingdoms, but we think he’s allying with Jason in order to get some more land that isn’t mountain. We—that is, Jason—provides the army, and Garian the money to equip it.”
“Do I know all these people and problems?” I asked.
Jewel grinned. “I don’t know.”
I laughed. “It does sound odd, doesn’t it?”
“Yes! But you do know you don’t like Garian. Neither do I. He’s arrogant and sarcastic, and mean. He was just pretending to court me. I could tell he thought I was too stupid to see how all his compliments cut two ways. I was as nasty to Garian as I could possibly be, so he would go away. But he wouldn’t go away, and then one night he was bored and drinking and he set one of Jason’s dogs on the castle cat, who was feeding her litter, and I, um, tried to knife him. Jason got angry and locked me in my room, saying I could either learn to behave or sit there and starve. Me! It was not I who set the dogs to harry the cat! Well, Jaim tried to defend me—oh, I don’t even want to talk about it. It was horrible. Jason locked us up, but Jaim’s got loyal liegemen same as Jason, and Daraen came with some of his men and got us out, and so here we are, in an old hideout for thieves.”
I shuddered. “That sounds terrible. Garian likes cruelty? He laughed so much. Though when I think back, I really believe he was laughing at me.”
“Of course he was.” She wrinkled her nose. “Back to us. Malcontents—people who won’t stick Garian’s rule—or Jason’s—find their way here. The real criminals Jaim sends away again. The rest, well, some of them are, um, somewhat rough, but if anyone gives you trouble, tell Jaim and he’ll straighten them out.”
“So you live by stealing?”
“Yes—from Garian. And from Jason’s strongholds. Good practice, Jaim says, though it’s risky. And there’ve been times when he’s gone into Lygiera to forage, but I’ll leave him to tell you why and how.”
“Sounds complicated.” I fought a sudden yawn, and when I saw her brows curve up in reaction, I said, “I am not bored. I am tired from the residue of the sleep-herbs Garian forced on me.”
“Well, truth to tell I’m also tired,” she admitted. “Staying up all night waiting on word. I wish I’d had the patience when Jaim tried to train me, but I hadn’t. All I wanted—still do—was to dance, and have parties, and a lovely life—and that sure was not possible in Ralanor Veleth.” She made a dismissive gesture. “Anyway, if you like you can sleep here with me.”
I thanked her gratefully. We buried ourselves in her collection of fabrics and I slid into sleep despite the soft glow of the globe.
Memories, imagination, and what Jewel had told me, all formed into a terrible dream from which I was glad to awaken. I lay quietly enjoying the silence and the faint echo of rushing water, until Jewel’s eyes opened.
“Come! Let’s see if the baths are free.”
This time the cavern was empty. At one end a cold waterfall mixed with hot water from underground, making a wonderful bath that swirled around one. The last of my aches drained away as the rushing water massaged my body. I was reluctant to leave when she suggested we dress and go in search of breakfast.
I had to wear my wedding gown again, but a step through their cleaning frame snapped away all the dirt and grime, so at least it was clean.
At the far end of the dining cavern were the cookfires; the great rocks above were stained with smoke, but there seemed to be some kind of flue functioning among the shadowy cracks overhead, for the chamber was not smoky. Two women and a man with gray hair appeared to be in charge of the food; behind their area were sacks and barrels of supplies.
On our approach, one of the women handed us each a plain ceramic plate loaded with eggs and fried potato cakes.
Jewel led the way to a seat apart from the other people. We sat on benches and ate, with our wet hair hanging down our backs and dripping onto the stone floor. A couple of young women glanced my way, expressing curiosity. One grinned and half-lifted a hand. She was tall, strong looking, with curly brown hair and a wicked knife at her belt. I liked her grin at once and waved back.
Jewel said in a casual voice, “That’s just Vrozta, a weaver’s daughter. She—” Jewel changed her mind, said nothing more.
Jaim walked in shortly after, his black hair wet and slicked back, his clothes fresh.
Jewel leaped up. “Jaim,” she cried happily. “Sleep well?”
“Quite.” He gave her a mock frown. “Someone slip dreamweed into my wine? Because I behaved rudely to our guest.”
She chortled. “Fell asleep! Right when she was talking. But you needed the rest.”
“Obviously, or I’d have noticed the taste.”
It was clear they were fond of one another. She laughed, then touched his wrist. “Seemed a handy trick—Garian is good for something, who would have known? Guess what. She saw your face in a glass that night you first came to her room in Garian’s lair.”
Jaim looked my way. “And you didn’t recognize me?”
I shrugged, smiling. “Your face looked, oh, so serious. I thought it was Jason at first, only without his fuzz.” I traced a mustache along my upper lip.
“Oh, you must hear the rest,” Jewel put in. “Garian told her all these lies about how she was so in love with Jason. It quite turned my stomach!”
“I’m as glad to find out it’s a lie, if it indeed is. Because I took one look at him and my heart went thud into my slippers.”
Jewel snickered.
Jaim ran a hand through his wet hair. “It’s funny in retrospect, but we’re going to have to think of some sort of plan to keep them from getting you back. I didn’t think you’d last out that month.”
“Month,” I repeated. “You said that before. I only have memory of a very few days.”
“A month.” He slicked his hair back again, plainly hesitating.
I said, “If Garian lied about my family as well, and I do get along with them, I’d as soon go home.”
“We can talk later. Is that all right with you?” Jaim gestured toward the food. “Right now I can’t think about anything but my empty gut.”
“Fair enough.”
“Let me show you around,” Jewel offered. “You can even meet some of our terrible ruffians.”
Jaim got a plate, and Jewel led me away before any actual introductions could be performed. Before we left the dining area, Jaim sat down next to the strong-looking woman who’d given me the friendly wave, and kissed her.
Jewel showed me the trails up to the surface. We came out overlooking a long, narrow valley thickly forested. Heavy clouds were coming in, bringing the prospect of rain. When we returned to their cavern hideout, she showed me their weapons stores, where several people were busy repairing tack, sharpening steel and doing related tasks.
There was also a room for training. We heard the clang and clatter of weapons before we came upon them. Jewel was quite proud of the gang’s exploits, and even more proud of her brother.
Finally there were the oddments—old, worn-out clothes, fabric, broken tools, horse tack that needed mending, and in the corner a lute. I walked straight to it, but discovered it was missing its strings. Disappointment hit hard, though I did not know why. When I turned around, it was to find Jewel watching me, puzzlement plain in her face.
“There’s more to see, if you like.” She pointed behind her.
“Lead on.”
During that tour, I learned not only a wealth of detail about how Jaim’s outlaw band existed, but about J
ewel’s own romantic hopes. For she was very romantic and not the least subtle. At least a dozen hints were dropped about her hopes that I would like the outlaw band so much that I would stay and fall in love with Jaim.
And make his fortune—but to be fair that was not her entire motivation. That they all saw me as a wealthy piece in several international games was soon apparent, but Jewel really wanted her brother to marry a princess, in as romantic a way as possible, and in turn I could provide Jewel with what she desired most: a life at court and her own chance at romance.
As we passed by the gang members, they exchanged greetings. She was clearly fond of them all, but her own goals were so dazzling that she did not see the admiration she inspired in certain of the young men. Nor did she seem to notice that Jaim was affectionate to the merry-eyed, knife-carrying Vrozta, and flirted outrageously with more of the young women of the band.
By nightfall I had observed all these things, though I kept my thoughts to myself. I had yet to find out my own story; I resolved I would make no decisions until I knew it.
If, that is, I was to be permitted to make my own decisions. For Jewel did not see Jaim’s actions as an abduction. My own definition waited on the results.
How long would it be before I recovered my memory?
I expected some dramatic resolution.
I was wrong.
The entire band had gathered to sup. Jewel was entertaining Jaim and several other young people with an absurd plot to sneak into Drath as traveling players and right in the middle of a popular blood-and-guts historical play turn on the watchers and rob Garian of everything he owned, all while quoting the best lines. I enjoyed watching them as much as I enjoyed the repartee. The light from the torches glimmered and sparked with reflected fire through my water glass.
And I saw another face.
A male face, supercilious, with a refined nose lifted into the air. Long upper lip, gorgeous blue eyes with lashes that Jewel would envy, and wispy red hair—
“S-spaquel!” I gasped, and laughed.
My mind jolted. Had the cavern quaked? No. That was me, fighting vertigo and an unpleasant wash of nausea.
My memory was back.
Chapter Five
I must have made a noise because everyone went silent.
I met Jaim’s watchful gaze. “Ignaz Spaquel, now Duke of Osterog,” I said, numb. “My father’s prime adviser. Prime sycophant. I saw him—I know him. I—”
Memories cascaded then, so fast I could not control them, and so I set the glass down, mumbled, “Please. Pardon.” And I fled, thumping into rocky outcroppings, stumbling up toward the surface until I reached that opening overlooking the valley.
There I stopped, panting, and wept. Hard, hiccoughing tears burned my eyes and my heart, for discovery, for loss, for regret and, to write the truth, shame. I turned away from the spectacular view and buried my face in my arms and sobbed until I was exhausted.
Finally I raised my aching face to look at the purpling sky. I had to get home and warn Papa about what I knew.
“Flian?”
It was Jaim.
I turned around. “What.”
“Your memory has returned, I take it.”
I snuffled. “I want to go home.”
He leaned against a pine branch, unsheathed his belt knife and began flicking at the bark. “I didn’t tell you about us, because I wanted you to accept—”
“I already know your sad story from Jewel. I’m sorry you Szinzars have your problems, but they have nothing to do with me. I am not a part of your games. I did not want to be one in your brother’s. I want to go home.”
“Listen—if you stay—”
“So you can ransom me against my father? Is that it?”
He waved the knife in the air. I don’t think he was even aware that he held it. “No, that’s not what I meant.”
But I was far too upset to listen. I pointed at the knife and snapped, “At what, threat of death? I had enough of that from Garian. And, if you’ll remember a certain occasion—”
He jabbed the knife toward me. “I never threatened you with death!”
“Jaim!” Jewel rushed out, exclaiming.
Jaim blinked. Looked at the knife in disbelief. Jammed it into its sheath, glancing skyward with expressive exasperation. “You know I didn’t. Even your brother knew—”
“Knew what?” Jewel looked from one of us to the other. “You’ve met before? Jaim, you said you had to talk to her—what? What? What?”
“You’re trying to say you suborned Maxl?” I crossed my arms. “Then I say you are a liar.”
Jaim flushed. “I never spoke to him, except once. And it—never mind that. But he saw my letter, and he knew. I’m sure he did, because your city guard did not have orders to shoot to kill if they did manage to lay me by the heels.”
Jewel stamped, put her hands up to her ears and growled. “I. Will. Go. Crazy. If. You. Do. Not. Tell. Me—”
I said, “Your dear, pitiful brother Jaim tried to abduct me from my own home.”
Jewel blinked, and then sighed. “He did?”
“Jewel!” I couldn’t help a laugh, angry as I was. “It was not romantic. He only wanted money, and I know it would have killed Papa—”
“But he wasn’t to know,” Jaim said. “Maxl would have seen to it I’d get the money, and incidentally, he’d be able to get round that blasted Spaquel on the guard issue—”
I drew in a breath, thinking rapidly. My brother Maxl was in charge of the city militia, a job made more difficult by the fact that Spaquel thought they used too much revenue and ought to be cut. Had Maxl actually told Jaim his plan for how they ought to be increased against threatened trouble?
“Argh!” Jewel covered her face with hands. “I don’t understand!”
“Yes, but you do.” Jaim studied me with narrowed eyes. “You do understand. Maxl is being outfaced by that slimy toad who is dealing with his dear cousin Garian behind the king’s back, and undercutting Maxl’s efforts at putting together a defense. And Maxl hasn’t done badly, either. The city guard needs training—”
“From whom?” I asked. “You?”
“I know how.” He shrugged. The knife was out again, carving at the tree branch.
“Yes, and then what? Take over from within? No, you are not getting me to stay here and try your stupid ransom idea again. Nor will I try to get my brother to hire you as some sort of commander. And if you dare try to make me—”
“Yes.” His voice went low and flat, reminding me unsettlingly of Jason. “I’m going to act the Great Villain and ransom you against your family so that I can pay for taking over from my heroic, angelic brother. What would you do, Flian, if I did? Scream? Cry? Fling yourself from yon cliff? Go ahead, entertain us.”
He eyed the tree branch whose bark he’d been shredding, then he pushed himself away and again resheathed his knife.
Jewel tried to catch at his hands. “Jaim. Your temper is almost as bad as mine. Can’t we try to reason—”
“Go away,” I cried. “Both of you.”
Three long, angry steps and Jaim was gone. Jewel groaned and reached to stroke my hair. “Admit it. You don’t want me to go.”
“I’m tired,” I quavered. “I want to go home. I hate your brothers. It would kill Papa if he knew about anything that’s happened. I have to get home, it’s the one thought that kept me going through Garian’s torture sessions—”
“Torture?” She put her hands to her mouth.
“Well, he slapped me a lot. He enjoyed, it, too. You were right when you said he’s mean. Garian adores being a bully, especially if you try to fight back. And I tried. A mistake. The black eye was the result.” I pointed.
“I thought you fell off a horse while escaping. That’s what Jaim said.”
“I did. The rest of the bruises—including the big one behind my ear—are all from the fall from the horse, but not that.” I fingered my eye, giving in thoroughly to self-pity. “He knocked me down after
I got off a ripping good insult about his methods of courtship. Hah,” I added, remembering.
“Tell me everything,” Jewel breathed.
I snuffled. “Oh, there isn’t much to tell that isn’t dreary. Truth is, they all see me as a kind of stuffed doll worth a lot of money. Garian’s sarcasm—”
“Oh, I remember.” Jewel looked grim. “I had my own time with him, as you recall.”
“He described, in detail, how weak, spoiled, stupid and foolish I was, always in front of Jason. In truth, I sometimes wonder—no. I’m already getting tangled up.” I drew a deep breath. “All right. The beginning. Garian came to Carnison for New Year’s Week. The only bit of truth is that he really is related to us, through my mother, though we’re cousins of cousins. He was supposedly courting me. He has wonderful manners when he has to, and Papa really liked him. It was disgusting how Garian used the old-fashioned style of bowing and all those old-fashioned compliments. He does it with style, but…” I paused, reaching for words. I’d never spoken about such things except to my brother and half-expected Jewel to go right on talking, but to my surprise, she waited.
“But what?” she prompted.
“I-I find it hard to express. Even when he’s not being obvious with those nasty two-edged compliments there’s a difference between his tone and his manner that makes me feel, oh, that the ground is uneven. He’s not the only one. There are some in court who also learned that skill. Is it a skill?”
“If using weapons is a skill.” Jewel waved a finger in the air. “Because it’s a weapon. You just don’t see the cuts. But you feel them.”
“Yes, you’re right. One of the reasons I avoid court. When some people use it on me, I don’t know whether to react to the manner or to the words, and I end up standing there like a fence post.”
“So what about the marriage?”