“The problem is,” she put in when Geraden paused, “we’ve been away from Orison too long.” Abruptly, she became the focus of attention. Swallowing a rush of self-consciousness, she forced herself to say, “Thirteen days for me. Fourteen for him.
“We don’t have any way of knowing what’s happened in the meantime.”
“So perhaps,” the Fayle murmured slowly, “this strange policy of the King’s has already come to its crisis. Perhaps he is already victorious. Or perhaps he has already been defeated and killed.”
“We can’t know,” she agreed. “All we have to go on is that when we left Orison Eremis was still working hard to look innocent. And since then he’s been working hard to get us killed. He’s still afraid we can hurt him somehow.” She shrugged. “It isn’t much. But as long as he’s afraid of us, we have something to hope for.”
“That’s something else we might be able to do if we had a mirror,” Geraden added. “Get an Image of Orison. See what’s going on.”
The Fayle faced Geraden acutely. He looked at Terisa, searched her. After a moment, he spread his hands. The gesture was small, but it seemed full of resignation.
“I have no glass, and no way to make it. I have no Imagers – what use do I have for mirrors? Every product or tool of Imagery which has ever been found in the Care of Fayle, I have given to King Joyse and Adept Havelock.”
By degrees, his gaze drifted away toward the fire. “Without Imagers, my Care is helpless against these ghouls. You have been away from Orison for thirteen or fourteen days. I have not seen Romish since the day I returned from Master Eremis’ meeting. I have been in the saddle, in the villages of my Care – fighting—”
Terisa had never heard him sound so old.
“I cannot win this struggle. In the end, I must fail.” He wasn’t looking at his men. His men didn’t look at him. None of them contradicted him. “You saw that I have failed Aperyte. It is only one among many villages dead, gutted—
“These ghouls are too many. I have hardly enough trained horsemen for four bands such as this one. I must fail.”
“Then, my lord,” Geraden said softly, formally, hinting at authority, “fight another way. Gather your men. Strike at Eremis in Esmerel. While any hope at all remains.”
The old lord studied the heart of the fire. His erect posture didn’t shift, didn’t sag, but his hands hung between his knees as if they were useless. After a while, he whispered, “No.”
“My lord—” Geraden began.
“No,” breathed the Fayle. “Joyse is my King – and the husband of my daughter. I love him. I do not understand this policy. I do not like it. Yet I love him.
“But he has never” – one hand came up into a fist, fell again – “in all his years of warfare against Cadwal and Alend and Imagery, he has never asked a lord for aid when that lord’s Care was under attack. He came to me, freed my people. He did not ask me for any help until my Care was safe.
“He will not ask me now. He has no wish to break my heart.”
Geraden tried again. “My lord—”
“No.” The Fayle didn’t sound angry: he sounded sad. “Today we saved Naybel. You were witness. Tomorrow – or in five days – or in fifty days” – now both hands were fists, beating the rhythm of his words against each other – “we will spring another trap, and it will succeed. People will live who would die if I left them to the mercy of these ghouls.
“Do you hear me, Geraden? Did your father ride away from his Care? Did the Termigan?
“I will not leave my people to die undefended.”
“I understand, my lord.” Geraden’s voice was as soft and sad as the lord’s, but there was no bitterness in it. “It doesn’t matter how desperate King Joyse is. He wouldn’t want you to abandon your own Care. He didn’t create Mordant or the Congery because he was desperate. He created them because he believes the same things you do.”
The Fayle stared into the fire, nodded several times. In a voice like a winter breeze, he sighed, “Thank you.”
Geraden hesitated momentarily, then ventured to say, “Unfortunately, that doesn’t change our problem. Is there anything you can do to help Terisa and me?”
With a shift of his head, the lord brought his blue gaze to Geraden’s face. For an instant, Terisa thought he was angry. Then, however, she saw a suggestion of a smile touch his old mouth. “That is true, Geraden,” he said. “My stubbornness does nothing to change your problem. You and the lady Terisa are Imagers, and the evil of Imagery must be met and answered by Imagers. That is your ‘Care,’ in a manner of speaking.
“I will give you supplies. If you need it, I will give you a map. And I will give you two men to ride with you as far as you choose – to Orison, even to Esmerel. They will be useless against Imagers, but they will know how to use their swords to guard your backs and clear your road.”
Before Geraden could reply, Terisa asked, “Can they take us to the Queen?”
Geraden was surprised: apparently, he hadn’t given much thought to Queen Madin. The Fayle raised an eyebrow; but this time his smile was plain. “A good thought, my lady,” he murmured. “It would have come to me in a moment. My men can certainly take you to the Queen. She has a clear right to know what her husband has been doing.” His smile faded at the memory. “After all, she has been, deeply hurt by his policy. And it is possible that she may want to do something about it.”
In response, Terisa swallowed hard and said, “Thanks. I appreciate that.” The force of her relief took her aback. She had known that she wanted to meet the Queen, but she hadn’t realized before just how terrible she would feel if she and Geraden came all this way and then left without taking the time to share what they knew with King Joyse’s wife.
Geraden stared at her, but he didn’t argue; he didn’t say, That’s a delay we don’t need, a day we could spend better on the way to Orison. Luckily, his instinct to trust her was still intact. After a moment, he let the matter drop and concentrated on eating his supper.
Later that night, however, when she and Geraden were in their bedding together, a short distance away from the Fayle’s men, he said under his breath, “I didn’t know you wanted to meet Queen Madin. Or is it Torrent you’re so interested in?”
Terisa didn’t answer directly. After musing for a while, she murmured, “Do you remember what the Castellan said to Elega – the message he said King Joyse sent to her?” In case he didn’t remember, she reminded him: “ ‘I am sure that my daughter Elega has acted for the best reasons. She carries my pride with her wherever she goes. For her sake, as well as for my own, I hope that the best reasons will also produce the best results.’ ”
“Yes,” returned Geraden. “It still doesn’t make sense. It still doesn’t fit with what Master Quillon told you.”
“Wait a minute,” she said to keep him quiet. “Do you remember that talk I had with Adept Havelock, while you and Artagel were on the other side of the pillar – after he rescued us from those insects?”
Obediently, Geraden nodded.
“He talked about Myste,” she whispered, “and the Congery’s champion. He said he had cast an augury about King Joyse, and one of the Images showed Myste and the champion together.”
Obediently, Geraden didn’t interrupt.
“I’ve always wondered why he told us that. If it wasn’t just because he’s crazy. And I’ve always wondered why King Joyse got so upset when I lied to him about Myste – when I said she went back to her mother. Why he was relieved when I told him I helped her go after the champion.”
In silence, Geraden waited patiently. At last, he suggested, “Why don’t you tell me what you think?”
“I think—” Terisa held her breath, then forged ahead. “I think there’s more to King Joyse’s plans than Master Quillon told us. I think his daughters are important – I think his whole family is important somehow. I think he wanted to throw Elega and Prince Kragen together. I think he wanted Myste to go after the champion.”
“You think he wanted us to go talk to Queen Madin and Torrent? Isn’t that a little farfetched? After all, he didn’t know either one of us had any talent. There was no way he could have predicted we would ever be here.”
That was true. And it made everything more dangerous. Nevertheless Terisa persisted. “I think,” she said, “I want to go talk to Queen Madin and Torrent. Just in case.” After a moment, she added, “He had reason to think we might have talent.”
She could feel Geraden grinning in the dark. “My lady, you’ve got a remarkably subtle mind. Or indigestion – I can’t figure out which.”
She got a hand under his jerkin and poked him in the ribs until he apologized.
Then she poked him for apologizing.
With so many potential spectators nearby, she and Geraden actually got more sleep than usual. And the next day two of the Fayle’s men guided them to Romish.
The lord’s seat was situated on a fertile plain uncharacteristically – for this Care – devoid of trees. The land for a mile or two in each direction had been cleared to make room for the fields which fed the city. But Terisa saw no more of Romish itself than the earthwork wall around it. As Myste had said, Queen Madin and Torrent lived in a manor outside the city.
The manor, Vale House, which a former Cadwal prince had raised to shelter his poor relations while he ruled Fayle, was tucked into a fold among small hills perhaps half a mile upstream along the small Kolted River which provided most of the water for Romish and the fields. As a defensive position – Terisa surprised herself by thinking about such things – the location of Vale House left a lot to be desired: in full daylight, a rider could probably get within twenty yards of the building unnoticed. On the other hand, the House was so easily reached from Romish, and so stoutly constructed, that it was probably in no danger most of the time. Its walls were of stone – strong against ghouls – and the timbers of its doors were banded with iron.
Through the long dusk of the plain, the Fayle’s men guided Terisa and Geraden among the hills to Vale House. They dismounted before the high doors. The Fayle’s men told the emerging servants to fetch torches for light, grooms for the horses; also the lady Queen Madin. The windows of the House filled up with brightness as lamps and lanterns were lit inside. In a short time, a woman came across the porch to the steps with a blaze of illumination behind her, as regal as if she ruled the world.
The Fayle’s men bowed and stepped back.
“My lady Queen.” Geraden bowed as well, bending so low that he nearly fell over. There was a suggestion of tears in his voice. Madin was a sovereign to him, after all – and the wife of the King he loved. “It does my heart good to see you again.”
“Geraden.” Queen Madin’s tone conveyed the immediate impression that she knew how to make up her mind. “This is quite a surprise. But a good one – so far.” She didn’t sound harsh, and certainly not cold; she only sounded quick to choose. Decisiveness was a power she wielded without noticing it. “I am glad to see a friendly face from home. And I will be glad to hear your news, whatever it is.” A moment later, she added, “But if that old fool Joyse sent you here to plead his case, you can forget about it and go back. I will not have it.”
“My lady Queen,” repeated Geraden. He bowed again, this time to cover a smile. “This is the lady Terisa of Morgan.”
“Ah.” Queen Madin turned toward Terisa, but Terisa still couldn’t see her face; dark against the glow from the house, her features were undecipherable. “The lady Terisa. My father mentioned you, after his return from Orison.
“My lady – Geraden – you are welcome in Vale House. Please enter.”
She turned and walked back into the light.
Geraden touched Terisa’s shoulder, nudged her toward the steps and the porch. The light shone on his face, and she was filled for a moment with the unexpected conviction that they had done the right thing by coming here. He had never looked taller; his gaze had never seemed keener. This was the way he might have appeared when he stood in front of King Joyse – if his King hadn’t been so studiously dedicated to breaking his loyalty.
She slipped her arm through his and hugged it so that they went up to the porch and entered the high doorway of Vale House together.
They followed the Queen’s back and a bowing servant along an entryway hall with tapestries and portraits on the walls, several doors on each side, and a wide stair at the end. Queen Madin chose a door on the left; the servant held it open for Terisa and Geraden, and they found themselves in what looked like a large sitting room. A blazing fireplace dominated the outer wall, and two deep couches and four or five plush armchairs were semicircled before the hearth with their backs to the paneling in the rest of the room. Queen Madin sent the servant for some wine, then gestured her guests toward the chairs; but she remained standing beside the fireplace.
Neither Terisa nor Geraden sat. He may have stayed upright out of courtesy, but her thoughts were elsewhere. At last, she could see Queen Madin clearly, and what she saw kept her on her feet.
Until that moment, she hadn’t realized how much she was expecting the Queen to resemble Elega. From Terisa’s point of view, Myste favored her father: Myste’s laugh was so much like King Joyse’s smile that the resemblance seemed more important than any differences. Simply on that basis, because the contrast between Myste and Elega was so pronounced, Terisa had assumed that Queen Madin would prove to be the parent Elega favored.
It was clear now, however, in the light of the fire and the bright chandelier and the surrounding lamps, that Terisa’s assumptions were mistaken. One good look at the Queen made it plain that both Elega and Myste in fact resembled their father. Madin was still a luminous woman, despite her years; her gaze was strong, and the years hadn’t cost her manner any discernible loss of firmness. But her features were at once too blunt and too forthright to be the model for Myste’s and Elega’s faces.
What kept Terisa on her feet, however, wasn’t the Queen’s appearance, but rather her bearing: she stood the way a queen should stand, as if not just her authority but her wise use of it as well came to her so naturally that both were beyond question. She was the Fayle’s daughter in more ways than one; she even conveyed a suggestion of the same sorrow which harried the old lord. Nevertheless, perhaps because her frame was more solidly constructed than his, she projected more force of personality, more of both the ability and the willingness to make other people do what she wanted.
Her failure to make King Joyse put down his passivity and become a decent ruler for Mordant again must have been more galling to her than any other wound she had suffered in her life.
But she was obviously not a woman who felt much self-pity, and she wasn’t feeling sorry for herself at the moment. She was studying both Terisa and Geraden with keen interest. And she seemed to find him especially intriguing, even though Terisa was the one who had come to Mordant from an alien world. After a moment, she explained her attention by saying, “Geraden, you have changed.”
Terisa’s immediate reaction was, No, he hasn’t. From her perspective, he had come back to his essential self from iron and despair. Queen Madin’s observation made her think again, however. In fact, he had changed. He hadn’t simply lost his clumsiness: he had lost his puppyish look, his appearance of being a boy hidden inside a man. His back was straight and strong, and she had a hard time imagining him making a mistake.
As if to demonstrate the change, he smiled almost without embarrassment. “It’s Terisa’s influence, my lady Queen. She made me stop apologizing.”
“No,” Queen Madin replied firmly. “The difference is that you are more at peace within yourself.” She was sure of her own judgment. “You have become an Imager.”
In response, he shrugged self-deprecatingly; but he held her gaze. “I didn’t know it shows.”
“Oh, it shows, Geraden,” the Queen affirmed, “it shows. No one would mistake you now for the oldest failed Apt ever to serve the Congery.
“As for you, my lady
,” she went on, turning to Terisa, “you are less clear to me. Your surprises are better concealed, I think. You both have a great deal to tell me.”
“That’s true, my lady Queen,” Geraden said at once. His awareness of how hard that job would be showed in the way he asked, “But what of yourself? Won’t you first tell us how you are? And Torrent?”
The Queen shook her head. “What I tell you of myself will depend entirely on whether you were sent here by that old dodderer the King. I have asked you that once, but you did not answer clearly.”
For a moment, Geraden measured his reply. Then he said flatly, “King Joyse didn’t send us. I think he would be astonished if he knew we were here.”
Queen Madin appeared to receive this information as if it inflicted a deep hurt which she had no intention of showing. As she spoke, however, she couldn’t muffle the roughness in her voice. “In that case, Geraden – Torrent and I are well. But not as well as we would be if our family were whole again. The King’s aberrations exact a price from us all.
“Will you not be seated?” she continued, shaking herself out of her thoughts. “Here is wine.” The servant had reentered the room carrying a silver tray. “And Torrent will be with us soon, I am sure.
“Ah,” the Queen concluded as the door opened again, “here she is now.”
Terisa turned in time to see King Joyse and Queen Madin’s second daughter close the door behind her and approach the fire.
Torrent’s carriage and downcast eyes and demure gown conveyed two impressions almost simultaneously: first, she was so shy that she made Myste and Elega seem as extroverted as mountebanks; and second, despite her shyness, she was nearly the image of her mother. She could have been Queen Madin’s shadow: they were as alike as reflections of each other. Only her mother’s decisiveness was missing, her mother’s assurance.