"You should not begrudge your brother that," she had told him, "since the title of Duke and Heirship of Hammerfell came to you who were first-born, he needed to have something special as well." Then she drew his attention for the first time to the small and inconspicuous tattoo of Hammerfell which marked his shoulder.
"This was set here to distinguish you from your twin; it proclaims you everywhere as the rightly born Heir to the Great House and estate of Hammerfell, true Duke of that line," she had told him.
The group of brightly dressed nobles made their way through the crowd thronging the square. Erminie, as a Tower technician, was known to most of them, and the young Duke of Hammerfell was well-known, too. There were bows and curtsies, and the commoners surrounding the square hoping for entrance to the performance-for, by long custom, none of the common seats could be sold until all the nobles were placed-watched the high-born gentry, and called out to them.
As one of the young women passed, Alastair tugged unobtrusively at his mother's sleeve.
"Mother, do you see the fair-haired young woman in the white robe?" he whispered, and Erminie sought with her eyes for the girl he pointed out.
"I do know her, she said softly in surprise.
"You do?" " He was equally surprised; he had no idea who she was, but knew that he had to meet her-she was the loveliest girl he had ever seen.
"Why, yes; and so do you, my son; she is your cousin Floria. When you were children, you played together almost every day."
"Floria!" he said in astonishment, "I remember chasing her around the garden with a snake, and teasing her-I would never have known her! She is beautiful!"
"It was for that Edric came to the house today," Erminie said. "He wishes me to chaperone her during Council season."
"I would willingly assume that task myself!" Alastair said, laughing. "I have heard that the plainest girls grow up to be the most beautiful! But my cousin Floria!" He looked stunned, completely disbelieving.
"She is the daughter of our Keeper and thus is not allowed to work within his circle; she went to Neskaya for training, but now she has returned to her father's house, awaiting a place in one of the other circles here."
"If she were a milkmaid, or a silk-weaver, I would still think her the most beautiful woman I have ever known," he declared. "Floria," he repeated the name almost reverently. "I doubt that Cassilda of the legends, who was loved by Hastur, could have been any more beautiful than she."
"She is young still, but in a year or two Edric will probably be entertaining offers for her hand."
"Hmm," Alastair murmured. "I must be the luckiest man alive! She is available, kin to us, and she has
laran. Do you think she will remember me, Mother? Do you think I have a chance?"
The mellow tone of a chime, the warning signal that they should seek their seals, interrupted his musings, and mother and son passed under the arched entrance and through the great doors. In the box seat on the first balcony which she had reserved for this performance, they took two of the upholstered chairs and Alastair dutifully draped his mother with her fur-lined cloak and adjusted a padded footstool under her feet before looking around the ring of boxes, seeking the young woman on whom his fancy had alighted.
"There, I see her," he whispered. "In the box decorated with the Elhalyn coat of arms." Then he murmured in surprise, "I see the royal box is occupied, too." King Aidan was not known to be fond of music, and the royal box was seldom occupied these days.
"No doubt it is Queen Antonella," said Erminie. "It was her generous gift and love of music which rebuilt this house after the fire last year. She is old, very fat, and now quite deaf as well; but she can still enjoy the high tones of her favorite singers."
"I heard a story about that," Alastair interrupted, "when I was singing with the Mountain Choir last year; they said she had commissioned Dom Gavin Delleray to write a cantata for sopranos and violins only, since her hearing loss was fairly selective; she can hear high notes better than low ones."
"So I hear tell," said Erminie, looking over toward the royal box, where the elderly queen, very short and stout in an unbecoming dress of a singularly unlovely shade of blue, sat munching candied fruit,
her lame leg propped up on a footstool. Despite her age, she was accompanied in the box by an elderly woman in the dress of a chaperone, and Alastair smothered a snicker.
At her age the lady can hardly need a chaperone," he whispered, stifling laughter in his sleeve.
"Oh, hush!" implored Erminie. "No doubt the kind old lady is giving a treat to one of her ladies-in-waiting who loves music."
Alastair had noticed that Floria Elhalyn was accompanied in her box only by her father, dispensing with any form of female companionship. He asked, "At the first intermission, will you introduce me?"
"Certainly, my dear boy; it will be a pleasure," Erminie promised, and they settled back to the ripple of applause that greeted the orchestra and choral singers. The nobles all having been seated, the commoners surged into the lower hall, and the performance began.
The cantata was a fine one, featuring as conductor and chief performer the young composer himself, Dom Gavin Delleray, a handsome young man who sang several solo pieces for bass voice, interspersed with choral works. Erminie listened, thinking that if he would apply himself, Alastair could certainly sing as well as Dom Gavin himself.
She looked, when Alastair was not watching, toward Edric Elhalyn's box; he smiled at her and nodded, an obvious confirmation of his earlier invitation for herself and her companion to join him at intermission. The girl, too, caught the older woman's eye and smiled in the friendliest manner, and Erminie thought perhaps Floria had noticed that her son was looking at her.
It was to be expected, of course, at his age, that her son's interest would be caught by first one young woman and then another; it was only surprising that it had not happened before this.
From time to time, while the young bass soloist was performing, she glanced at the form of the old queen in the box, staring straight before her with a look of rapt attention (or was it only shortsightedness?) and Erminie, thinking of what her son had said, wondered how much of the music the elderly queen could actually hear.
The music ended, and there was a round of applause for the popular young composer-he was the same age as Alastair; they had been inseparable during much of their childhood and adolescence. To her surprise, Queen Antonella led the applause, and unpinned a spray of flowers from her dress, weighted with a handsome jewel, which she flung to the stage. This began a veritable shower of flowers, nosegays, , and jewels; Gavin gathered them up, beaming with delight, and smiled and bowed to his royal patron.
Alastair chuckled softly.
"Why, I never heard that Queen Antonella was as fond of music as that-nor yet that she had an eye for pretty young men," he murmured.
"Alastair I'm surprised at you," Erminie chided. "You know very well that his mother was the queen's favorite cousin, and that Gavin is like a son to her, since the royal couple has the ill fortune to be childless." She saw Alastair's derisive frown subside, but even without using telepathy she knew he was saving up this tidbit to tease his friend.
As the applause began to dwindle, there was an exodus from boxes and stalls, young couples and
family groups going out into the hallways to stretch their legs, or briefly outside for fresh air, or down to the elegant bars in the lower part of the house for cold or hot drinks or other refreshments.
"I should really go and congratulate Gavin . . ." said Alastair guiltily. It was clear he was still thinking of Floria.
"I am sure that he will be happy to see you," Erminie said. "But first, remember, I promised to present you to Lord Elhalyn and his daughter."
Alastair's eyes brightened as he followed his mother along the corridor between the boxes and the outer hall. Many lackeys were hustling back and forth with drink
s and other refreshments, for in the concert hall anything could be had from a mug of beer or a plate of sweet cakes to a beautifully catered dinner to be served in the private room behind each box. The crowded corridor was filled with the good smell of these refreshments, and the busy sound of people enjoying themselves; from the auditorium came the faraway sound of the orchestra readying themselves and tuning their instruments for the second part of the concert.
Erminie tapped lightly at the door of the Elhalyn box. Lord Edric rose to greet her, with a smile of welcome, and bowed gracefully over her hand, just as if they had not parted less than three hours ago.
"Greetings, kinswoman," he said. "Come join us. A glass of wine?"
"Thank you," she said, accepting the offered refreshment. "Floria, my dear, how lovely you have grown! You remember your cousin Alastair."
Alastair bowed over her hand.
"A very great pleasure, damisela," he said, smiling, "May I fetch you some refreshment? Or you, Mother?"
"Not at all, my boy," said Edric, indicating a table spread with a sumptuous array of cold meats, cakes, and fruits. "Please, help yourselves."
At his invitation, Alastair took a plate and filled it with a modest helping of fruits and cakes. A servant poured him a liberal glass of wine, and he sipped at it, never taking his eyes from Floria.
Floria herself seemed intrigued by Alastair. "Cousin, you are so changed! You were so cruel to me when we were children; I remembered you only as an obnoxious boy. But now you seem truly the Duke of Hammerfell! I could never understand the girls at Neskaya who thought the story of how you fled from your home as a child a romantic tale. Is it true that all your kinsmen perished in that fire? That seems tragic to me, not at all romantic."
"It's quite true, Lady Floria," said Alastair, thrilled by her interest. "At least that is what my mother has told me. My father died, and my twin brother. I have no other kin of the Hammerfell line; all my living kinsmen now are my mother's people."
"And you had a twin brother?"
"I do not remember him at all. My mother and I, so I am told, escaped only by fleeing into the woods with no one but our dog Jewel to guard us. But of course I can remember nothing of this; I was hardly old enough to walk."
Her eyes were wide as she looked at him.
"By contrast I have led such a quiet and peaceful life," she murmured. "And now you are grown, is Hammerfell yours?"
"Yes, if I can find a way to take it back," he said,
and went on. "I am resolved to try and raise an army, if I can, and recapture it from our family's foes."
Her eyes widened, but she only looked at him demurely over her wineglass as she sipped.
"Father," she said softly, "Will you not-?" She looked at Lord Elhalyn pleadingly and as she had expected, he caught her thought and smiled.
"We are holding a dance for many of our young friends at the beginning of the next full moon," he said. "We should be very pleased if you would join the young people. The occasion is Floria's birthday, and it will be a simple and informal affair," he added. "You do not need to think of court costume or etiquette; an ordinary outfit and ordinary manners, no more."
"Just promise you won't chase me around the ballroom with a frog or a snake," Floria laughed.
"I wouldn't think of it," said Alastair, congratulating himself that Floria had asked her father to invite him. Not only was he enormously impressed by Floria's great beauty, but her high position and noble relatives made her a most valuable contact for his ambitions about Hammerfell. They were cousins, but she was of enormously more high kindred than his branch of the family. "I shall do my best to erase from your memory this unfortunate association of myself and snakes."
As Alastair and Floria renewed their acquaintanceship, Lord Edric said to Erminie, "I am pleased that our young people seem to enjoy one another's company. Now I remember; did Alastair not sing with a male quartet in Neskaya last year?"
"He did," Erminie said, "he is gifted in music."
"Gifted, indeed; you must be very proud of him," said Edric. "I'm afraid Valentine seems to think him a young good-for-nothing, one of these young fops who think of little save his appearance. Perhaps Valentine is too harsh on him."
"7 think so," said Erminie, swallowing hard. "His father and brother died in the fall of Hammerfell. I have had to raise him alone-it hasn't been easy for him."
"I am troubled about the young people today," said Edric. "My four sons seem to care only for racing and gambling."
"Yes, I'm concerned for Alastair," Erminie said. "And I have a favor to ask of you, kinsman."
"Ask, and you know that if it is anything I can possibly grant, it is yours," Edric said. He smiled at her so intensely that for a moment the woman wished she had not asked.
But she had made the request, and after all it was a lawful thing which she meant to ask.
"Can you arrange an audience for my son with your kinsman King Aidan?"
"Nothing could be simpler; I once heard Aidan express an interest in the affairs of Hammerfell," Edric said. "Perhaps at this birthday gathering for Floria- it might be better if they could meet informally."
"I am grateful to you," Erminie said, declining a second glass of wine and nibbling delicately at a piece of fruit.
Meanwhile, aware of naught save each other's company, Floria asked Alastair, "Lord Hammerfell, do you know my brothers?"
"I believe I was once presented to your brother Gwynn."
"Oh, Gwynn is twelve years older than I, and I think he believes me so young I should still be in short frocks," she said with annoyance. "My favorite brother is Deric; he and I are but a year apart. He knows you," she said. "Do you ride a chestnut mare with a white blaze on her forehead?"
"I do," said Alastair. "She was a gift on my fifteenth birthday from my mother."
"My brother said you must have a good eye for horseflesh; that he has never seen a finer mare."
"It is my mother who should be complimented," Alastair said. "She chose the mare; but for her sake I thank your brother."
"You may thank him in person," Floria said, "for my brothers promised to join us here at intermission; none of them care much for music. I'm sure they have been visiting a tavern or perhaps a gambling-house. Do you not care for cards or gaming?"
"Not much," Alastair said, though the truth of the matter was that he could not afford much gambling except for the smallest stakes, which made it hardly worth the trouble. His income was very small, though his mother never grudged him enough money to keep up appearances.
At that moment four young men-the sons of Edric of Elhalyn-crowded all at once into the box, and surrounded the refreshment table. The tallest of them came quickly to Floria's side and demanded with a frown, "Who is this stranger you are talking to, sister? And why are you gossiping and flirting with strange young men?"
Floria said with a high color rising in her cheeks, "My brother Gwynn, Lord Alastair of Hammerfell; he is our cousin; I have known him since we were
children, and we have been talking most correctly in the presence of both our parents; our father and his mother. You may ask either of them here if a single word has passed between us that is not perfectly suitable."
"That's right, Gwynn," said Lord Edric. "This lady is the Duchess of Hammerfell, an old friend and our kinswoman."
Gwynn bowed to Erminie. "Your pardon, ma'am. No offense intended."
Erminie smiled and said graciously, "None taken, kinsman; if I had a daughter, I could wish she would have brothers with such care for her behavior and reputation." But Alastair was glowering.
"It is for the lady Floria, and not you, sir, to say if my company is distasteful to her; and I'll thank you to mind your own affairs."
Gwynn all too eagerly picked up the glove, "Can you say it is not my affair when I see my sister conversing with some landless upstart in exile, whose old story of grievances is a
joke from Dalereuth to Nevarsin?" Gwynn snapped. "When I came here tonight there was unrest in the city-hordes of displaced peasants in the streets, gangs of young toughs ready to make some gesture against aristocrats-but I'm sure you don't know or care-you were too busy telling your tired old story of Hammerfell ... it might as well be cloud-cuckoo-land! You can call yourself what you will, but don't presume on some doubtful title in exile-there are a hundred such titles in Thendara. Lord of Cloudland Staircase, or of Zandru's Tenth Hell, I suppose. Such things may sound fine to young girls who know no better, but-"
"Look here, Gwynn," Lord Edric interrupted, "that's
enough-your lack of manners is appalling! I am not yet so old I cannot decide who is fit to be my guest or my friend. Apologize at once to Lady Erminie and Alastair!"
But Gwynn would not back down. "Father, don't you know that this Hammerfell affair is a joke all over the Hundred Kingdoms? If Hammerfell is his, why is he not with his people in the Hellers, rather than idling here in Thendara boring everyone in earshot-"
But this was quite enough for Alastair; he grabbed Gwynn's shirt front and pushed hard with his free hand on the young man's nose. "Listen, you! You keep your mouth off my family-"
Erminie cried out reproachfully, but her son was too angry to hear. Gwynn Elhalyn's face reddened furiously, and he shoved Alastair so hard that he stumbled over a piece of furniture and measured his length on the carpeted floor of the box. He jumped to his feet, grabbed Gwynn's shirt front again, and shoved him stumbling through the door of the box, reeling into a footman who was carrying a tray of glasses; the man went down in a crash of glassware, wine splashing everywhere. Alastair wiped his eyes, and snarled, plunging at Gwynn who had stumbled to his feet and had his skean out.
Lord Edric bellowed, thrusting himself between them, grabbing Gwynn's dagger and restraining his son. "Damn it, I said that's enough, and I'll be obeyed! How dare you draw your dagger, boy, against your father's invited guests?"