Emerald House Rising, page 30
Lady Kestrienne gave her a sharp look. “Oh? Any contact that he achieves with you at all may be a hopeful sign. Hmph. Well, for whatever reason, you’re here, and I intend to put you to good use. Perhaps you can talk some sense into this wilted gillyflower here.”
Jena gave Lady Rinnelle a sidelong glance. The Topaz Heir walked with her eyes closed, allowing herself to be passively drawn along by Lady Kestrienne’s firm grip on her elbow. She didn’t say a word. “But whatever has happened?” Jena asked.
“Morgan didn’t tell you? The ninny tried to kill herself.”
“I thought it was the only way.”
They were in the reception room set aside for Lady Rhuddlan’s use. Lady Rinnelle sat by the fire, still deathly pale, with shadows like purpling bruises under her eyes. She massaged a spot between her eyebrows, avoiding Lady Kestrienne’s irate eye. Jena sat beside Lady Rinnelle, bathing her temples with lavender water. Lady Rhuddlan sat opposite them, a little pale herself, but composed, with Morgan lying, watchful, at her feet.
“I don’t know how you became a wizard,” Lady Kestrienne fumed as she paced, “if the only solution you can think of for a vexing problem is swallowing poison. Such an appalling lack of vision.”
“I never asked to be a wizard. And it would have worked! The Diamond would have been free by now! That is, if what Kett told me is true,” Lady Rinnelle added with a note of uncertainty, “that a spell can’t survive its maker’s death.”
“Oh, so only now do you pause to consider that little detail,” Lady Kestrienne said. “Wouldn’t you have felt foolish if you were dead right now, and Kett had been lying?”
Jena smothered a nervous laugh. Lady Kestrienne threw a glare in her direction and addressed herself again to Lady Rinnelle. “Well? Wouldn’t you?”
“Was he lying, then?”
That brought Lady Kestrienne up short. “As a matter of fact, he wasn’t.” She stalked over to the sideboard and poured herself a goblet of wine.
Lady Rinnelle nodded. “And if I’m dead, Kett’s entire plan to infiltrate the Diadem disintegrates. There would be no point in his attacking Guilford, and no reason for him to keep the Diamond alive anyway.” She leaned wearily against the back of her chair. “It was tonight’s Council meeting that decided me. I couldn’t face hearing Guilford circle closer and closer to the truth that I’m … I’m a sorcerer.”
Lady Kestrienne gave an impatient exclamation. “That you are a wizard. Forget all the claptrap about ‘sorcerers’ you heard while you were growing up. You’re an adept. That doesn’t mean that you’re cursed, or that you’ve suddenly grown fangs, or that your touch kills.”
Lady Rinnelle shook her head, apparently not wanting to argue the point. “You are the rightful ruler, your brilliance,” she said to Lady Rhuddlan. “And I felt that if I must do this to make it clear for all to see, then so be it.”
“No!” Lady Rhuddlan leaned forward. “Do you think I want to be established as the Diamond with your bloodguilt on my hands?” She shuddered. “If Kestrienne hadn’t been monitoring you and gotten suspicious, if she hadn’t gone to fetch you—”
“All your problems would now be over,” Lady Rinnelle said stubbornly.
“There would still be the spell over me,” Morgan said quietly.
Lady Rinnelle fidgeted in her chair. “I’m sorry, but I haven’t been any help in breaking it anyway.”
“And what about Lord Woric?” Jena added. “How would he feel?”
Lady Rinnelle sat silently for a moment, and then a slow trail of tears began dripping down her nose.
Lady Kestrienne tsked in exasperation. “That’s quite enough. We’re in no danger of drought this year, so you may turn off the fountains, if you please! We are sorry if it doesn’t suit you to be alive. We intend to keep you that way, however, and so you had better make the best of it.”
“I want you to swear to me,” said Lady Rhuddlan, “that you won’t try to do anything like this again.”
There was a long pause, with no sound but the crackle of the fire. “I’m sorry,” Lady Rinnelle said. “It’s precisely because of my loyalty to you that I can make no such promise.”
Jena raised a hand to forestall another outburst by Lady Kestrienne. “I don’t agree with you, my lady, that your, er, solution is a necessity. But there isn’t any reason to take such a desperate action until the end of the year. After all, we might succeed in breaking the spell over the Diamond before then, and then such a recourse would be totally unnecessary. Isn’t that true?”
Lady Rinnelle reluctantly nodded.
“Jena, what are you saying?” Lady Rhuddlan exclaimed. “You’re all but telling her to go ahead and kill herself at year’s end!”
“No, Vianne, Jena’s right,” Morgan said unexpectedly. “I’m not sure anyone can be prevented from ending their own life if they’re really determined to die. Jena is simply trying to win us a reprieve, a period of time where we won’t have to worry about that possibility. Until year’s end.”
Jena nodded. “Hopefully, the problem will be solved by then.”
Lady Kestrienne snorted. “Well, then, Lady Rinnelle, perhaps you might redirect your attention from dramatics to spell-breaking. I would rather not have to spend another afternoon resorting to purgatives and restoratives again. Such a messy business.”
A timepiece on a side table chimed, and Lady Rhuddlan threw it a worried glance. “We need to talk further, but meanwhile the Emerald is being chosen at the Council meeting tonight. Both Rinnelle and I have to be there.”
Lady Rinnelle sighed. “Must I really?”
“All the heirs have to appear.”
“Quite true,” Lady Kestrienne said. “But I want Lady Rinnelle to change her clothes first.”
“I beg your pardon?” Lady Rinnelle looked at her blankly.
“That green color you’re wearing, dear. It makes you look positively bilious. One look at you in that dress and everyone will know you’ve been up to something dreadful. Hardly the picture of the radiant bride-to-be. Why, it would be a terrible affront to Lord Woric. And besides,” she added briskly, with a rapid gesture behind Lady Rinnelle’s chair that Jena caught out of the corner of her eye, “I’m afraid you couldn’t possibly appear in public with that stain on the back of your skirt.”
“A stain?” Lady Rinnelle turned in her chair, looking over her shoulder.
“Yes,” Lady Kestrienne said, going over to the corner and pulling a bellrope, “My wine goblet slipped. Quite careless of me. Yet I’m sure her grace could lend you something that would be most suitable. Perhaps that rosy sarcenet I saw you wearing to the revels a few evenings ago, Vianne, dear?”
“But—but—you—” Lady Rinnelle sputtered.
“Oh, yes, I know. I’m so very sorry. Please do send the bill to me.”
“She couldn’t possibly have time to change,” Lady Rhuddlan exclaimed.
“Oh, my, the time is very short. You’d best hurry, then, hadn’t you, my lady?” Lady Rhuddlan’s servant entered the room at that moment, and Jena watched with a kind of bemused admiration as Lady Kestrienne dismissed the Topaz Heir over to the servant’s care with a rapid list of instructions and admonitions. I know just what that befuddled expression on Lady Rinnelle’s face means. Lady Kestrienne seems to be an expert at volunteering the use of other people’s clothing.
“Why did you do that?” Lady Rhuddlan asked when the door closed.
“Because I thought it best that Lady Rinnelle not be in the room while we discuss one important point about the Council meeting. I hope Jena has convinced her not to do anything stupid, at least for the next several days. But if not, and she is still as desperate as she seemed this afternoon, it might occur to her to stand up in Council and say, ‘I’m the one you’re looking for.’ ”
“Because she thinks Lord Oselare will kill her!” Morgan exclaimed.
“Yes. That would achieve the same goal, you see, breaking the spell over the Diamond in a way that would be much more difficult for us to stop.”
“Yes, I do see,” Lady Rhuddlan said thoughtfully.
“What do you suggest?” Jena asked.
“I think I had best monitor her during the Council meeting. There are ways I could stop her, if necessary, if I am nearby. Is there a place close to the Council chamber which would be sufficiently private?”
Lady Rhuddlan looked as if she could not believe her ears. “Are you suggesting that you—what is the word—scry the Council meeting?”
Lady Kestrienne raised an eyebrow. “You have an objection, then?”
“An objection!” Lady Rhuddlan for a moment appeared to be torn between unbelieving laughter and outrage. “That any member of the Diadem would allow magical—” She glanced at Morgan and fell silent for a moment. “Ranulf is my candidate,” she began again finally. “And of course I want him to become the Emerald. Yet I must know: will you agree not to interfere with the Council’s decision? Either one of you,” she added, looking at Jena.
“Interfere?” Lady Kestrienne blinked at the question. “It would never have occurred to me to do so. I do believe the country would be well served if he were one of its guardians—although of course the dear boy can be quite tiresome at times. But I assure you, I won’t interfere.”
Lady Rhuddlan looked at Jena.
“I suppose I want Lord Duone to win the Council’s vote, your grace,” Jena said. “And yet, I don’t know anything about any of the other candidates, or for that matter what the criteria for evaluation should be. Being an adept means not only knowing what choices to make, but recognizing who should make them.” Lady Kestrienne gave her a sidelong glance, and Jena remembered their conversation about that very point, the night they had talked in Morgan’s room. Lady Rhuddlan still seemed to be waiting for something more, her mouth taut, and Jena felt a wave of impatience. “Shards, your grace,” Jena went on, “it’s not our choice at all! It’s yours—yours and the Council’s. And the Diamond’s.” She remembered, and winced again. “You can handle the politics, if you don’t mind,” she mumbled. “Personally, I’d rather cut gems.”
After what seemed an endless moment, Lady Rhuddlan relaxed and finally smiled again. “I’m sure you understand my bluntness. I had to be certain. Very well, I’ll make arrangements for you to wait in the garden.”
Lady Rhuddlan gave the servants instructions, and in a short while she led Jena and Lady Kestrienne, with Morgan trotting at their heels, outside through the garden entrance and past the covered flower beds to one of the topiary walkways skirting the palace’s formal garden. In the summer, Jena knew, thick walls of lovingly tended and shaped boxwood covered the walkways, but now, during the winter, only a framework of densely interwoven twigs remained. They followed the pathway until they came to a topiary pavilion, at the point where the avenue intersected with another. There, Morgan hopped up onto a stone bench, which had been covered with a carpet. A lit torch had been set into a bracket attached to the pavilion’s framework, and a charcoal brazier burned, too, warming the chill air.
“I think you can wait here safely,” Lady Rhuddlan said. “It’s quite private in the winter, much more so than any of the public reception rooms. I hope you will be warm enough.” She gestured toward a tray on the small ornamental table that had been pulled up close to the bench. “I told them to bring you some mulled punch, which should help; it’s quite good.”
“Your grace is very kind,” Jena said as she seated herself.
“You’d best go in, my dear,” Lady Kestrienne said. “You still need to retrieve Lady Rinnelle.”
Lady Rhuddlan nodded and turned to go. “Morgan?” she said questioningly, when Morgan didn’t move.
“I’ll follow you in a moment, Vianne.” After a brief hesitation, the Ruby nodded and walked out under the topiary archway toward the garden’s entrance. “Wish us luck,” Morgan said when the sound of her footsteps had died away. “And Jena, would you loosen my collar a bit?”
Surprised and a little embarrassed, Jena gently parted the fur at his neck with her fingers. As she searched along the strap for the buckle, she touched something and suddenly understood. It was his talisman ring, of course, strung on the collar and dangling over his throat. Morgan nudged Jena’s talisman ring on her hand with his nose. “I didn’t want Vianne to be worried further,” he said softly. “But I’m sure I can depend on you to help Aunt Kestrienne if necessary. Can’t I?”
Jena nodded. Morgan hopped down from the bench. She watched him go, a small rust-colored shape trotting away briskly until the darkness beyond the torchlight swallowed him.
“Pour us both some punch, won’t you, dear?” Lady Kestrienne said. “I would appreciate having something warm in my belly, since we’re going to be here awhile.”
Jena did so, and then watched as her mentor detached a small mirror from a chain hanging from her girdle and placed it on the table. Lady Kestrienne then extricated one of the vials from her pomander and poured a thin film of liquid onto the mirror’s surface. “Not as large a mirror as I would have wished,” she muttered. “And rosewater instead of almond oil … I hope it won’t freeze. Still, we must make shift to use what is at hand.”
“Will that allow you to see into the Council chamber?”
“No, it won’t work the way your ring will, but then, I’m merely monitoring. There are patterns in the fluid which tell me what I need to know, rather than pictures. I’ll have to depend upon you to tell me what’s said.”
Once they had set and carefully checked the wards, Jena bent over her ring under the guttering light of the torch and reached through it for the connection with her partner. The stone was a tiny window that she drew close to her eye, until it filled her vision. All she could see in the scry-sighting, however, stare as she might, were two reddish, oblong shapes. They puzzled her, until one of them shifted, and then she almost laughed. Of course: Morgan’s talisman stone dangled over his forepaws. Wonderful. This will certainly be a tremendous help. Gradually, however, she realized that although she couldn’t see anyone else in the Diadem Chamber from her peculiar angle of vision, she could hear voices.
“Gentles, if we may start?” It was Lady Rhuddlan. There was a change in the angle of mumbled conversations and the scrape of wood against stone as benches were rutched back, and then a gradual silence. “You know our business tonight. We must reach consensus, in Council, as to our preference for the new Emerald.” Jena repeated this, but as Lady Rhuddlan continued talking, the scrying link between the rings enveloped Jena even more firmly, until she gradually lost her awareness of the dark garden, Lady Kestrienne, or even that she was repeating what she heard. She was only a listener.
Lady Rhuddlan continued: “The candidates available for consideration are: Lord Reuven Agnolle, nominated by the Citrine; Lord Ferrin Signo, nominated by the Amethyst; Lord Ranulf Duone, nominated by the Ruby; and Lord Niall Scroop, nominated by the Aquamarine. By the agreement reached at our last meeting, Lord Scroop’s candidacy is acceptable, even though he did not arrive into the city until two days after the beginning of Festival. Lord Maxil Palani, the Topaz nominee, has withdrawn. I understand that Lord Aric Wode, the Sapphire’s nominee, has still not been located.
“Each of us has spent these two weeks interviewing the candidates and their supporters. Now, if the ballots can be passed, we will see if the field has been narrowed by our investigations.”
“One moment,” said a man’s voice gruffly. It was the Topaz, Lord Guilford Oselare. “I must renew my previous objection. If the Diamond remains unable to state his preference, then I presume Lady Rhuddlan, as the Diamond Heir, will be determining the new Emerald. I maintain that it would be grossly irregular, not to mention unfair, for her to elevate her own House’s candidate.”
“If the fact that Lord Duone is Lady Rhuddlan’s candidate troubles you,” said another voice (Lord Sebastian Alcide, the Sapphire, Jena identified after a moment), “then I propose a solution: let me adopt Lord Duone as my candidate.”
“What?” said Lord Oselare, obviously startled.
“You heard me,” the Sapphire said crisply. “My intended nominee, Lord Wode, cannot be found. My House has the right to present a candidate to the Council. If I sponsor Lord Duone any perception of conflict for Lady Rhuddlan is eliminated.”
“You can’t do that!”
“Why not? Lord Duone was present at the required deadline.”
“But—you—” Lord Oselare was reduced to sputters.
“I will second Lord Alcide’s suggestion,” said someone, either the Aquamarine or the Citrine, “that Lord Duone’s candidacy be transferred to the Sapphire House.”
The proposal was put to a voice vote and ratified. Jena fancied she could hear Lord Oselare’s teeth grinding as he abstained. Why is he so intent on thwarting Lord Duone’s candidacy?
“Now,” said Lady Rhuddlan, “we will proceed to the vote for the Emerald. Master Steward, if you will distribute the ballots?”
A silence ensued, broken only by the harsh scribble of pens and the sound of Morgan’s tense panting. I do hope Lord Duone wins, Jena thought, and then remembered her promise to Lady Rhuddlan and grimaced. Oh, well. I only mean to wish him well, not to influence votes.
After the ballots had been checked, the master steward announced the results. “Lord Reuven Agnolle, with no votes, has been eliminated. Otherwise, the tally stands as follows: Lord Signo—two votes. Lord Scroop—one vote. Lord Duone—three votes.” Scrying the vote was easy: the Citrine had given up on his own candidate and thrown his lot in with the Sapphire and the Ruby. Lord Oselare had joined with the Amethyst in supporting Lord Signo.
“And now?” asked Lord Fedreggo. “We present the two top candidates to the Diamond and have him decide?”
“That is the procedure.” Lady Rhuddlan sighed. “I must admit, I had hoped we could reach a consensus on one candidate.”
“Perhaps we still can after some more discussion?” Lord Fedreggo said.
“The fact is, we’re all feeling our way along here, lad,” Lord Alcide said. “The Diadem hasn’t had to elevate a new House for a long, long time—certainly not in my lifetime.”
