Emerald House Rising, page 33
“Then who did it?” Lady Rhuddlan said helplessly.
Jena studied Morgan, who had slumped down, his head on his forepaws, the picture of ultimate dejection. “Morgan, you must tell us what Kett said to you when this spell took effect.”
“I told you I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Would you rather stay a dog for the rest of your life?”
He sat up, and as best as Jena could tell, scowled at his forepaws. “It had to do with Vianne,” he said finally.
“With me?” said Lady Rhuddlan.
Morgan looked up at Jena pleadingly. “Jena, I don’t want her to have to hear this.”
“Is it that you don’t want her to hear it, or you don’t want to say it in front of her?”
“Don’t stop now,” Lady Kestrienne murmured beside her. “I think you’ve run smack into one of his blind spots.”
“Well, Morgan?”
“Kett spoke of my betrothal,” Morgan said reluctantly, the tip of his tail twitching restlessly. “I became angry, asking how he knew, and what business it was of his. He laughed. ‘Be warned,’ he told me. ‘Lady Rhuddlan has power, but don’t be fool enough to think that wooing her will allow you to share it. You’ll only end up—’ ” Morgan broke off, shifting uneasily from paw to paw.
“As her lapdog. That’s what he said, wasn’t it?” Jena saw the indignant flush on Lady Rhuddlan’s cheek and felt a slow burn rise in her own face. “And you believed him, didn’t you? That loving a powerful woman somehow diminished you?”
Yet even through her anger, Jena felt a twinge of sympathetic understanding. Here was a proud and intelligent man with the privileges of noble rank, yet one who had grown up a second son, always in Lord Duone’s shadow. Small wonder that he should question whether he wanted to stand in his wife’s shadow as well. And Kett had sensed that and exploited it. “So—Lady Rhuddlan wasn’t the only one who had doubts about the match. Was she, Morgan?”
Morgan gave Lady Rhuddlan a stricken look. “Vianne, I’m sorry.”
“Ironic,” Lady Kestrienne observed, throwing a sympathetic glance toward Lady Rinnelle, “that he sneered at you, Morgan, for planning to do the very thing he wanted to do—marry the woman who could become the next Diamond.”
Jena stared at Morgan, the seed of an idea taking root. “He told Lady Rhuddlan you would make a docile pet, but he also said that you should be neutered. Now, if you were supposed to be so tractable, why would you need to be gelded?”
“It’s a mercy Kett didn’t arrange the operation himself,” Lady Kestrienne said brightly. “At least, I assume he didn’t, did he?”
“Aunt!”
“You’re right, my lady,” Jena said. “He wanted Lady Rhuddlan to do it.”
Morgan actually lay down and put his forepaws over his ears. “I am not listening to this!”
“It’s so strange,” said Jena slowly. “Kett was a wizard. He could’ve used his skill to make new opportunities, for himself and others. And yet he exerted power by paralyzing people. He’d find out what they feared the most and then convince them they couldn’t escape it—that there were no other possibilities.” She felt laughter bubbling up. “Shatter it, it’s so perfect. Morgan, don’t you see? You’re the one keeping that spell over yourself!”
Morgan uncovered his ears and Lady Rhuddlan’s jaw dropped. Even Lady Rinnelle looked up, curious. “What?” Morgan said.
“Think about it. Metaphor can be magic, can’t it? That’s what Kett used to transform you. But I think the spell will only last as long as you continue to believe Kett was right.”
Morgan sat silently for a long moment. “I want to believe he was wrong,” he said, his voice full of shame. “I want to believe I can be a true partner to my lady, offering her as much as she gives me. How can I prove it to myself, so I know it?” He glanced at Lady Rhuddlan. “So we both know it?”
“Morgan,” Lady Rhuddlan said brokenly. “I swear to you, I—”
“Wait,” said Jena gently but firmly, holding up a restraining hand. “He’ll never accept it just because you tell him. He has to work it out for himself.”
Morgan sighed in frustration. “Work out what, Jena?”
“As long as you’re scrying truth,” Lady Kestrienne suggested mildly, “you might as well use the tools you have available.” She unbuckled the collar around Morgan’s neck, slipped Morgan’s talisman ring off the leather strap, and handed the ring to Jena.
She accepted it with a little nod and, feeling her magical “hunch” growing, she thought for a moment, striving to put her understanding into words. “Lady Kestrienne explained to me that when wizards first partner, they take on each other’s characteristics, acting in opposition to their own natures. It certainly worked that way for me: I’d always been shy, hating to make trouble or take risks. That all changed when I came to Duone Keep. I changed. I decided I really did want to be a gemcutter. I stood up to your brother and traveled for leagues to find you. Part of that was because I had partnered with you, but don’t you see? Part of it was also because of what Kett did to us. He exaggerated the partnering process. There were times I was so frightened and angry that you had left me alone. But if Kett hadn’t kidnapped you, I wouldn’t have been forced to do things I had never dreamed of doing before. I wouldn’t have become as strong as I did.”
She proffered the ring. “So look into the stone, and tell me, Morgan: what have you learned from being a dog?”
Morgan lifted his ears in surprise. “You’re jesting.”
Jena shook her head. “No, I’m not.”
He pondered, staring at the ring. “To tell the truth, I’ve been so angry about the spell that such a thing never occurred to me.”
“What did I tell you?” Lady Kestrienne said. “A blind spot.”
He rolled his eyes. “Aunt—”
Jena waved a hand. “Shh, if you please, my lady. Morgan?”
“Well,” Morgan said uncertainly, “I suppose I’ve never been forced to just sit and listen before. When Vianne received visitors, I learned to watch the expressions on faces when no one else was looking. It was a surprise, realizing what you can glean from doing that. And I never realized before how much servants notice, and how they gossip.”
“That’s good. What else?”
Morgan thought some more. “I learned what it’s like to be helpless.” He shook his head and shuddered. “Vianne, I was so afraid for you. This adept, whom I knew nothing about, had done this to me. What might he do to you? How could I possibly stop him?” He gave a little half laugh. “Didn’t you ever wonder why I was always begging food from you?”
Lady Rhuddlan looked away quickly in embarrassment. “Once I realized who you were, I did think it strange for you to do such a … a doglike thing,” she admitted in a low voice.
“I was afraid of poison,” he said simply. “I thought, well, if someone tried something, at least you would have some warning that might save you.”
“I never realized.” A little frown creased Lady Rhuddlan’s brow. “You thought you were so helpless—and yet you protected me?”
“Yes,” said Morgan with some surprise. “I suppose I did.”
Jena nodded. “Keep going, Morgan.”
“That’s all there is, I suppose. Except … except for what I’ve learned about my lady.” He cocked his head, a wondering expression in his eyes. “I thought I knew everything about you, Vianne. We’d all but grown up together, after all. And yet, I never entirely understood what life for a member of the Diadem was like, until Kett’s spell gave me the chance to see it for myself.”
He shook his head admiringly. “If I’ve discovered anything in the past few months, it’s that Piyanthia is lucky to have someone like you to lead it. You’ve a quick mind and an open heart, and you know when to yield and when to stand firm. I’ve listened to you stand up to bullies and fence with liars. I’ve watched your patience with fools.
“I’ve seen you merry, and angry, and sad. I’ve spent hours guarding your sleep, and despite everything, I wouldn’t give up the memory of those hours for the world. I embarrass you, I know,” he added quickly. “I’m sorry for that. But you know, maybe Jena’s right. It’s almost a reason to be grateful to Kett.”
He lifted a paw, placing it lightly over Lady Rhuddlan’s hand. “I love you, Vianne. Whether I remain this way or not, I’d be proud if you’d let me make my place at your side.”
And then, something like a breath of warm air swirled around his fur, making the candles flicker, and Lady Rhuddlan was staring down at his hand, holding hers. With a glad cry, she lifted it to her lips and kissed it.
“Morgan!” Jena exclaimed. “Uh, you need some clothes.”
Morgan, assessing the situation with a quick downward glance, lunged to wrap a corner of the bedcurtain around himself, his face scarlet.
“I’m sure there’s something here that will serve,” said Lady Kestrienne, going over to one of the clothing chests. “While we were looking for the Starburst, I saw—hmm, yes. Here’s a shirt. Quite a fine-quality linen, if I do say so myself. So wrinkled, though! Would you prefer a pleated or unpleated pourpoint? Perhaps this one? But no, that bright lemon yellow color wouldn’t suit you at all …”
“Aunt,” Morgan said, his voice sounding anguished, “that one will do splendidly, I assure you. Please bring it here.”
“No, no. Here we have it!” Lady Kestrienne seized a pourpoint and jerkin of deep olive and waved them triumphantly. “Just wait until you see him in these, Vianne, my dear.”
And in a very short time, Morgan was suitably garbed, with hose points tied and a jerkin properly buttoned over his pourpoint. He looked down at his hands with a grin of incredulous delight, and then took Lady Rhuddlan’s hand and turned to Jena.
“Well, now,” Jena said, smiling, handing him his talisman ring. “That was easy, now, wasn’t it?”
Morgan laughed as he put it on. “Well, no, it wasn’t. Thank you, Jena.” He lifted her hand and kissed it and smiled warmly into her eyes. “Thank you.”
“Lord Morgan.” Lady Rinnelle had risen, and now came forward. “I’m glad to see you restored to yourself. And …” she ducked her head. “I’m so sorry. For everything.”
“I bear you no ill will,” Morgan said gravely.
“Thank you, my lord.”
Morgan followed her glance to the still figure lying on the floor. He walked to it and then, after a moment, he stooped and removed something from the hand. It was Lady Rinnelle’s ship’s pendant, with the pearl still attached. “My lady, I believe this belongs to you.”
“No.” Lady Rinnelle stepped back quickly. “I mustn’t take it back. I can’t. It … it killed him.”
Morgan turned the brooch in his hand thoughtfully for a moment, and then came back over to Lady Rinnelle. “No, my lady. His attack upon you was his own choice, and this was the consequence.” He handed the brooch out to her. “He was your partner, for good or for ill. Keep it to remember him by.”
It looked at first as if she would refuse, but finally, reluctantly, Lady Rinnelle accepted the brooch.
“And now”—Morgan sighed, gesturing toward the two bodies, one on the bed and one on the floor—“the Diadem is going to be looking for explanations for this. I hope they’ll accept that the Diamond died in his sleep, but we’d best get the captain out of here.” He removed the covering cloak and reached for Kett’s arm, pulling it toward himself so as to hoist the body over his shoulder—but then stopped.
“What?” asked Lady Rhuddlan. “What is it?”
“Listen,” Morgan said, releasing Kett’s arm and lifting his head.
They all heard it then: the sound of footsteps and voices, still distant but coming in their direction. “But it’s nowhere near dawn,” Lady Rhuddlan exclaimed.
The voices were not coming from the hallway, but from across the outdoor courtyard adjoining the Diamond’s bedchamber. Jena flew to the window, opened the shutter a crack, and peered out. “It’s Lord Oselare with a few of the other lords, walking along the ambulatory. They’re heading around the courtyard toward the far end of the hall.” She looked around despairingly. “There’s no way out, either through the courtyard or the hall, without them seeing. How can we possibly explain?”
“Quickly!” Lady Kestrienne pounced on a linen cap and apron left on a stool by the bed. “Put these on, Jena.”
“What?”
“The attendant left them behind—hurry!”
“But I testified before the Diadem. They’ll recognize me!”
“They won’t. I’ll change your appearance with a glamour,” Lady Kestrienne said. “Morgan, where’s your sword? Oh, of course, you don’t have one. Well, does Kett have a knife?”
As Jena drew on the cap, tucking her hair underneath, and tied the apron behind her waist with shaking fingers, Lady Kestrienne got down on her knees beside Kett’s body, scrabbling at his waist.
“Aunt, what—”
“Oh, mercy, Morgan, you weren’t always this slow! We have to make it look as though you were trying to foil an assassin. Here’s the knife; now do what you have to do.”
Morgan took the weapon with dawning comprehension and then glanced at Lady Rinnelle. “My lady—forgive me.”
“No!” Lady Rinnelle cried. Lady Rhuddlan tried to draw her away, but the Topaz Heir shook her off. “I won’t let you touch him!”
“Wait, Morgan,” Jena said hastily. “That isn’t necessary.” She threw back the folds of the cloak covering Kett’s chest to reveal the blackened wound underneath. “All we have to do is to make it look like it was possible that he was stabbed.”
Morgan’s eyes widened, and he nodded. Swiftly he drew up a sleeve and drew a narrow slash across his forearm. He let the trickle of blood drip down from his fingers to the front of Kett’s shirt. “Can you do the rest with a spell?”
“I think so,” Jena said.
“If she can’t, I will,” said Lady Kestrienne.
And so it was that as Lord Oselare, Lord Alcide, and Lord Teutaine left the ambulatory for the interior hallway, the sound of shouts made them look at each other in surprise and quicken their steps. As they rounded the corner, they saw a noblewoman and a servant rushing toward them. “Hurry!” the older woman cried, wringing her hands. “We heard the call for help, and Lord Morgan forced his way in, but we can’t follow.”
“What—”
“The Diamond’s bedchamber! The door slammed shut behind him, and now something’s blocking it. Her grace Lady Rhuddlan is in there, too! Oh, please hurry!”
The door was indeed blocked. Now thoroughly alarmed, Lord Oselare and Lord Teutaine threw their shoulders against it, and then staggered back as the door gave a couple of inches. Through the crack an outstretched hand could be seen on the floor. “Someone’s lying just in front of the door,” Lord Alcide exclaimed.
“Help me … all together, now—heave!”
Within a few moments, they managed to push their way into the room. There they found her grace Lady Vianne Rhuddlan kneeling on the floor unrolling a bandage, her face set and white. The strange gentleman beside her was tearing away a portion of his sleeve, baring a forearm wound. The man in front of the door was dead, obviously from a stab wound to the chest. Lady Rinnelle stood at the bedside, drawing a sheet over the Diamond’s face as she covered her own face with her other hand.
“Vianne!” the noblewoman said, coming in behind the rest. “Are you all right? Morgan—you’re hurt!”
“Not badly, Aunt Kestrienne.”
“What’s all this?” Lord Alcide exclaimed.
Lady Rhuddlan looked up. “Your graces, the Diamond is dead.” She stood and gestured to the attendant. “Fill the basin with water, please, and bring it over here with a sponge. His lordship’s wound must be dressed.” The attendant bowed her head and went over quietly to the sideboard.
“Let me help with that,” Lady Kestrienne said quickly.
The lords looked at each other, shocked, and came toward the bed. Lord Alcide reached out to touch the Diamond’s still hand with trembling fingers, and Lord Teutaine looked grave.
“How did he die?” Lord Oselare demanded suspiciously. “What happened here?”
“I came to sit vigil by his brilliance’s bedside until the Diadem should meet here,” Lady Rhuddlan answered readily enough. She raised her chin. “And given the nature of Lord Oselare’s suspicions, I thought it best to have Lady Rinnelle join me.”
Morgan pulled the shreds of his sleeve out of the way as Lady Kestrienne dipped the sponge into the water basin the attendant held. “I gather that her grace found the Council meeting rather upsetting, and so her previous engagement with me slipped her mind,” he said, and winced as the sponge was drawn across the slash on his arm.
“You are … Lord Morgan?”
“Yes.” He smiled slightly. “Brother to Lord Ranulf Duone.”
“My fiancé,” Lady Rhuddlan added.
“Indeed,” Lord Alcide said in a surprised voice.
“And this is my aunt, Lady Kestrienne.”
“I’m here as a chaperone,” said Lady Kestrienne, smiling with utmost sweetness as she wrung the sponge out into the water.
Jena could only hope the assembled lords missed the look Lord Morgan gave Lady Kestrienne at that remark.
“We waited for Lady Rhuddlan quite a while,” Lady Kestrienne continued, “and eventually made inquiries and were told she was here. I told Morgan we would have to leave in that case, of course, but”—and here Lady Kestrienne managed to look mildly embarrassed—“he begged me to come with him to the Diamond’s chamber, to see if we couldn’t find someone to take a message in to her grace to let her know we were waiting.” Lady Kestrienne sighed. “It wasn’t at all the thing, of course, but, well, young lovers can be so impetuous.…” She smiled brilliantly at Lord Alcide. “I’m sure you were young once, weren’t you, my lord?”
“It’s a good thing I did insist,” Lord Morgan said hastily. “When we arrived here, I heard a scream, and then of course I rushed in. I found him”—he pointed with his chin toward Kett—“attacking the Diamond, strangling him.”
