“Restless again already?” Tayse said.
“Needed back home,” she said. “I promised Casserah I wouldn’t be gone long. I’ll probably head straight from Carrebos to Danan Hall.”
Tayse shrugged. “No reason not to leave Ghosenhall whenever the serramar is ready.”
“Well, not until I’ve killed Cammon,” Senneth said.
“Right after that,” Tayse said. “We’ll be on our way.”
BUT Cammon proved elusive the next day. Senneth always just missed him when she searched for him in his room, in Amalie’s company, in the kitchens. He was, of course, at his post during the dinner that evening, but somehow she lost track of him as the guests emptied from the room, and he didn’t show up at the cottage later that night.
“He’s avoiding you,” Justin said, seeming to find this hilarious. He and Ellynor had joined Senneth and Tayse after dinner; Kirra and Donnal had been gone all day, and, of course, no one knew where Cammon was. “He can tell you’re still mad at him.”
“I’m not! I just want to talk to him.”
“I’d guess it’s pretty hard to approach Cammon by stealth,” Tayse observed. “You’re never going to be able to corner him.”
Ellynor smiled a little wickedly. She was so dainty and small that Senneth was always surprised all over again when she exhibited strength and purpose. “I’ll help you,” she offered. “I’ll hide you so he doesn’t know you’re coming.”
They all liked this idea and spent a couple of minutes discussing the best time and place to trap Cammon.
“I’ll have him work out with me and then bring him back to our cabin for some reason,” Justin suggested. “You can be lying in wait.”
“Would you like me to recruit Coeval and Hammond?” Tayse inquired. “We can help you disembowel him.”
“No, no, I think I can kill him all by myself.”
THE plan was executed the following afternoon and worked perfectly. Senneth and Ellynor were standing just inside the door when Cammon, talking excitedly, followed Justin inside. His expression of dismay was so comical that Senneth almost forgave him on the spot, but this was too serious. So instead she grabbed him in a headlock and wrestled him to the floor while he flailed about and protested mightily.
“You traitor!” he yelled at Justin. “I warned you when people were waiting for you!”
Justin spread his hands. “Senneth,” he replied. “I couldn’t help it.”
“I hate to chase you out of your own house, but I need a few minutes alone with him,” Senneth said.
Justin grabbed Ellynor’s wrist and pulled her out the door. “We’re gone.”
When the door shut behind them, Senneth released Cammon, but they both remained on the floor, Cammon ostentatiously rubbing his wrist and throat. “Nobody realizes how mean you can be,” he said.
“And I never realized how stupid you could be,” she responded.
He stopped rubbing and gave her a straight look. Cammon’s eyes were so unusual, brown eyes flecked with gold spots—the eyes of a seer, or a madman, or a genius. She had never been sure. “Senneth, I haven’t done anything.”
“Then why have you been hiding from me?”
“Well, I didn’t want to be set on fire!”
“Seriously.”
He threw his hands up, then hunched his knees together and set his chin on top of them. “Valri’s already lectured me. Came to my room at midnight to warn me not to be too friendly to the princess. I don’t know what everybody’s so afraid of. I’m hardly the kind of person—well, I mean, look at me. Then look at somebody like Darryn Rappengrass. Or even Ryne Coravann. They’re like purebred horses. I’m a shaggy dog.”
“Yet people have been known to become very attached to misbegotten mongrels, especially when they’re loyal and affectionate.”
“So what am I supposed to do? Valri tells me to stay away. But Amalie is angry when I’m not there. It seems I can’t make anybody happy.”
“You can behave yourself,” Senneth said softly.
He looked mutinous. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Tell me you weren’t carrying on a private conversation with Amalie all during dinner the night before last.”
He said nothing.
“Exactly. That’s the sort of behavior that creates a certain—emotional intimacy. Yes, you have to attend Amalie when she requests it. No, you certainly don’t want to make your liege angry. But you appear to be on the road to becoming Amalie’s primary confidante. And that is a very tricky road.”
“How stupid do you think I am?” he burst out. “Do you think I’m crazy enough to think that—that—Amalie could fall in love with me? It didn’t even cross my mind till Valri said it! I still don’t think it’s possible! But if you keep going on about it—”
“Cammon. You’re a delightful young man and all of your friends love you very much. But it has always been clear that you don’t really have a sense of boundaries. You’ve always treated everyone as your equal. And that just won’t do when it comes to Amalie. You simply can’t be yourself around the princess. You have to be someone else.”
He shrugged and looked away. She didn’t have to hear the thought in his head to know what he was thinking. I don’t know how to be anyone else. “I’ll try,” he said. “But I think you’re all overreacting just a little.”
“No more secret silent conversations with the princess?”
“All right.”
“And no more long days spent roaming the palace grounds with no one to supervise you?”
“I can’t imagine Valri would let that happen, anyway.”
“That didn’t sound like a promise.”
“All right.”
She climbed to her feet and he scrambled up beside her. “You’ll have a chance to prove just how good you can be when I’m not watching over you,” she said. “I’m leaving for Carrebos in a couple of days. And taking Tayse and Kirra and Donnal as well.”
He frowned. “But Justin just got back!”
She was amused. “And how does that have anything to do with this trip?”
“Well, because! We haven’t even been together for two weeks!”
Now she was laughing. “I thought sure you’d be relieved to see me go.”
He grinned. “I am, of course. I was trying to conceal it.”
She laughed, too, and they left the cabin together in perfect amity. But later she thought over this part of the conversation and wondered if she had been duped. True, Cammon was never so happy as when the six of them—the seven of them—were together. And true, for Cammon, a period of ten or fourteen days was not enough time to satisfy his craving for that close connection.
He had showed distress at the thought that four of them were leaving. But had the emotion been genuine? Or had Cammon—the most artless person she’d ever met—had Cammon learned to lie?
CHAPTER
16
CAMMON was miserable for a whole week. Everyone was angry at him, and then everyone was gone, and if Justin and Ellynor hadn’t been around he would have felt completely lost.
Nominally, he was back on good terms with both Valri and Amalie, and he joined them a couple of mornings in the parlor. But Valri watched him with a darkling expression and—at least for those first two days—Amalie treated him with a brittle coolness. He was tempted more than once to renew his silent diatribes, and now and then he caught a look on her face that made him think she was puzzled that he had not.
But he had promised Senneth that he would be good, and he had decided he would at least try to keep his promise. So he was friendly but not intrusive, ran errands when Amalie asked, played card games with the princess and the queen, and was generally unhappy.
He had told Tayse that Amalie wanted to get to know the Riders better, which Tayse thought was a very good idea. The best parts of that week came as the Riders arrived by ones and twos to visit with Amalie. The older ones, like Tir and Hammond, were respectful but hardly loquacious and te
nded not to stay long. The younger ones were a little more cocky, a little more talkative, and just as curious about the princess as she was about them.
“I’ve never handled a sword,” Amalie confessed when Wen came calling. She was accompanied by Janni, a compact, dark-haired, and infectiously happy young Rider who was Wen’s best friend. “Not even a knife, except a dinner knife.”
Janni’s dagger was in her hand even though she scarcely appeared to move. “Well, that we ought to do something about! It’s good for everyone to know how to handle a weapon. You never know when you might be required to defend yourself.”
Amalie’s eyes sparkled. “I agree! What can you show me?”
Cammon glanced at Valri, thinking the queen might not endorse the notion of royalty receiving weapons training, but Valri’s face was inscrutable. Janni and Wen gathered around the princess, let her hold their various blades, explained the basic mechanics of edge and weight and reach.
Wen stepped back and eyed Amalie’s clothing with disfavor. “You can’t really fight when you’re wearing a gown,” she said. “You see how we’re dressed? In trousers and boots? Anything else just gets in the way.”
“I don’t think anyone would find such attire appropriate for me,” Amalie said.
Janni shrugged. “Well, just for an afternoon, maybe. We could come back and show you a few fencing moves.”
Amalie was instantly taken with the notion. “Yes! What a wonderful idea! Valri, you don’t disapprove, do you?”
Valri shook her head. “No, I think it’s a good idea. Not tomorrow, perhaps, because we have a visitor coming, but after that.”
“And you ought to have a knife,” Wen said. “Something you always carry.”
“Sleep with it,” Janni said. “I do.”
Amalie laughed and gestured down at her skirts. “A weapons belt and a scabbard would look very odd with most of my dresses.”
“You need a sheath you can buckle onto your leg,” Wen said. “Under your clothes. Thigh or calf. I prefer to have my spare knife right above my ankle, but if you’re wearing a dress, it’s more likely to be seen.”
Amalie’s lips parted; Cammon could see she absolutely loved this idea. “Could I wear it while I was dancing?”
“You’d probably have to practice a little so you were used to the way it felt—make sure the buckle didn’t rub against your other leg,” Janni said. “But once you’ve worn it for a while, you’ll forget it’s there.”
“And you’ll feel strange when you’re not wearing it,” Wen added.
“Where can I get a sheath like this? And a knife? I mean a real weapon.”
Wen was grinning. “There’re all sorts of spare blades down by the training yard. We’ll go through the lot and bring up something good for you.” She lifted her hand and spread her fingers. “Here. Show me how big your hand is.” Amalie laid her palm against the Rider’s and Wen nodded. “All right. I’ll find something that’ll suit you.”
So, that was enjoyable, but those hours were too brief, and some days Valri banished him from the room altogether. Cammon found himself completely at loose ends, particularly once Senneth, Tayse, Kirra, and Donnal rode out. Senneth and Tayse promised to be back in about two weeks, but Cammon felt adrift and abandoned the very first day. If he hadn’t been pledged to watch Amalie, he would have insisted on riding out to visit the village of mystics. What could be more fascinating? And wouldn’t Cammon be valuable as they met a whole town of people with unpredictable and wondrous powers?
But no. He must remain in Ghosenhall to guard the princess.
Which he would have been more than happy to do if the princess had seemed to care at all that he had stayed behind to serve her.
On days Cammon wasn’t needed at all, he hiked into the city to spend time with Jerril. They practiced more tricks to build up mental strength, and these were so exhausting that those nights Cammon tumbled into bed and slept without dreaming. Or maybe he’d been tired out by the labor, since he spent some time chopping wood and clearing out the garden and doing the heavier chores that really required a young body and a strong back. Lynnette fussed over him, making his favorite meals and trimming his hair, which, of course, looked ragged again. Areel drew him aside one day and quizzed him on some of the objects that had been making their way to the palace—jewels and vases and small polished tables—all gifts to Amalie from her various suitors.
“Well, I can take you to the palace someday if you just want to walk around and see things,” Cammon offered, and Areel looked as if he’d been offered a gift directly from the Bright Mother herself.
So the next day, Cammon gave him a tour of some of the areas of the palace that weren’t generally open to guests, though Milo watched them closely to make sure they didn’t disturb anything. Areel seemed more than ordinarily dazed, pausing now and then to lay his hand on a marble bowl or a wooden frame and closing his eyes as if the sensation was almost too great to bear. When Cammon took him home, the old mystic staggered as if he was drunk, but he glowed with glutted satisfaction, so Cammon knew he had enjoyed the outing.
In the evenings, there were invariably guests at the palace, so Cammon always stood watch over the meals. No one showed any inclination to attack the king, and Amalie never summoned Cammon to her side to send him on manufactured errands. Nor did he engage in one-sided debates with her, or make any special effort to communicate. All in all, the meals were long and dull, as the days were long and dull, and life in general was pointless and miserable.
By contrast, the late evenings spent with Ellynor and Justin were a balm to his soul. Justin, who could be so wary and abrasive, was utterly relaxed around Ellynor, even expansive. Ellynor herself was a restful woman, Cammon thought—usually engaged in some small task, but in a serene, methodical way. She often seemed lost in her own thoughts, but always had a smile ready for him and would gladly answer his hundreds of questions about life across the Lireth Mountains.
“You miss it,” he said to her once, and she nodded and then she shook her head.
“I miss my family, but I’m happy to be away from them, too,” she said. “They’re very protective! And I’m too curious about the rest of the world. I spent the past two days in Ghosenhall, just wandering around with my mouth hanging open. What a beautiful city! I love being here—and that makes it easier not to miss my family.”
“I’ve told her she needs to go visit one of the Twelve Houses,” Justin said. “If she wants to see wealth and opulence.”
“How much time have you spent with the queen?” Cammon asked her.
“A few hours here and there. I think she’s more homesick than I am.”
“How well did you know her?”
Ellynor glanced at Justin and clearly decided not to say something. “Well enough. She wasn’t born to my sebahta-ris, but her family had always been on good terms with mine. If there had been a clan war, our sebahtas would have been allies.”
Obviously there was more to this story and obviously she wasn’t going to tell it. “Well, I’m sure she’s happy you’re here,” he said.
In fact, a few days later, Valri got a chance to be extremely grateful for Ellynor’s presence. Cammon arrived at the cottage to find Justin alone and Ellynor up at the palace, tending the queen through a nasty stomach ailment.
“So, we’re on our own,” Justin said. “Want to go into town and get a drink?”
They had more than one drink, as it turned out, at more than one tavern, and enjoyed themselves hugely. Justin wasn’t wearing Rider regalia, but all the barkeepers made it a point to recognize the king’s most elite fighters, and they weren’t allowed to pay for a beer all night. No fewer than five women approached Justin before the evening was over, hinting in ways that ranged from subtle to blatant that they thought the Rider was enormously attractive. Justin, of course, was oblivious.
“What do you mean you didn’t notice what she was wearing?” Cammon asked in disbelief. “I watched her unlace the front of her gown bef
ore she came over to talk to you!”
“She was wearing a moonstone bracelet. I noticed that,” Justin said. “And her hands were too soft, no calluses, so I’m pretty sure she hasn’t been handling any weapons lately. She was short, heavyset, probably easy to put down in a fight. What else am I supposed to notice?”
Cammon laughed into his beer. “It’s a mystery to me how you ever managed to realize Ellynor was in the world.”
Justin grinned. “Well, I got into a brawl on her behalf. You know me. If it involves fighting, I’m more likely to pay attention.” He sipped from his glass. “But feel free to make friends with any of these women who are coming up to the table. Maybe they’re really coming over to talk to you.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Senneth says you’re lovesick over the princess,” Justin said with his customary lack of tact.
“Oh, so now she wants you to lecture me while she’s gone?”
Justin shook his head. “I’m just wondering if it’s true.”
Cammon used his fingernail to pick at a drop of gravy crusted on the table. “We’re a lot alike.”
“You and the princess?”
“We are. We grew up lonely. We’re happiest when there are people around us—some activity going on. You know I hate to be by myself. So does she, except there’s no one she can make friends with, so she is by herself a lot of the time. It makes me want to—It just makes me want to spend time with her. Chase away the loneliness.”
Justin nodded. “You could probably do that, you know, despite what Senneth says. You could be her friend. Maybe she’d turn you into her steward someday. You could be like Milo, always around the palace, someone she could rely on completely. It wouldn’t be a bad life.”
Cammon felt a sharp well of dissatisfaction at the picture, but couldn’t exactly say why. “I hate Milo!”
Justin grinned. “He does his job. And Baryn trusts him absolutely. And if the princess trusts you—well, it might be a good fit.”
Cammon shrugged, then nodded. It was hard to imagine wanting to hold any position at the palace once Amalie was married. Why would she need him? Why would he want to stay?