Fire of the Soul (13 page)

“You should go now,” he whispered, tightening
his arms around her in a way that made Calia wonder if his mind,
like hers, was issuing warnings that his body refused to obey. He
ought to release her and she ought to leave his cabin. Neither of
them moved. They stood as they were, fitting together beautifully,
until she remembered who she was and thus found the courage to pull
away.

“Shall I tell Lady Elgida you will join her
shortly?” To her ears her own voice sounded unnaturally husky. She
looked into his blue eyes and saw that he did want her.

“One day soon,” he whispered, “we will have
more time and greater privacy.”

For what?
she longed to ask him.
After you know who and what I am, will you still want me? I
greatly doubt it, Garit, my love.
She gasped then, realizing
the progression of her thoughts and frightened that her emotions
had come so far so quickly in regard to him. She had known him for
less than a month, yet her heart was solidly and firmly fixed upon
him.

She was free to love him, but she could not
allow him to love her. Not unless she wanted him to hate her when
the truth was finally known, as it soon would be. She could not
bear the thought of Garit hating and despising her, so she fled
from his arms and his cabin.

In the narrow corridor she leaned against the
wall beside the closed door, fighting back the tears, telling
herself it mattered not if her heart were to be broken in a few
days’ time. She could bear that; she had endured far worse from
people she’d loved and trusted and then lost to betrayal. But she
must protect Garit’s heart. He had suffered too much already. He
would not be hurt because of her; not if she could help it.

“Please, my lady,” Calia said, keeping her
voice too low to be heard outside the latched cabin door, “I beg
you to end this voyage now.”

“I cannot believe you are guilty of
cowardice,” Lady Elgida said from her seat on the side of her bunk.
“Nor can you be seriously worried about what the storm will do to
the
The Kantian Queen
– what a stupid name for a ship! What
can Captain Pyrsig have been thinking?

“Just look out the porthole, Calia, and
you’ll see that the storm is already ending. Soon, even Mairne will
be able to eat again. Well, girl, don’t stand there swaying and
rocking and looking tragic. Give me the reason for this desperate
plea of yours, and allow me to refute it.”

“My reason is one that you’ve heard before
and that you ought to reconsider most seriously,” Calia said. “I am
not afraid for myself, and I know better than to mention your own
safety to you. My concern is for Garit’s safety. You haven’t been
honest with him. Please order Captain Pyrsig to turn the ship back
to port just as soon as possible.”

“There’s not a chance of that, and well you
know it,” Lady Elgida told her. “I will not change my plans. Well,
then, I’m sure you have another thought on the subject.” The old
lady’s eyes sparkled with something very like mischief.

“If you refuse to end the voyage, then you
must tell Garit the entire truth,” Calia said. “It’s not fair for
you to lead him into danger without preparing him first.”

“I’ve heard that argument before, too.” Lady
Elgida regarded her companion for a time. Then she asked, “Did
Garit turn your cheeks so pink?”

“No! Certainly not.” Without her willing it,
Calia’s hands flew up to cover her cheeks. “I was on deck with
Mairne and Anders. The wind is sharp. Perhaps that is why—”

“I am neither blind nor deaf,” Lady Elgida
interrupted her.

“Neither am I,” Calia snapped, worry for
Garit and embarrassment combining to make her ruder than she’d
ordinarily be. More forthright, too. “My lady, I can hold my tongue
no longer.”

“I haven’t noticed that you’ve held your
tongue previously,” Lady Elgida said in sly amusement.

“I have long respected the way in which you
listen to every side of a question before you make up your mind,”
Calia went on. “I even admire the way you refuse to change a
decision after you’ve made it.”

“Thank you for that much.” Lady Elgida’s gaze
on her did not waver. “What else do you want to say to me?”

“Only one thing more, and I will continue to
repeat it until you change your mind just this one time.
Tell
Garit the truth.
All of it, my lady, including whose daughter I
am.”

“No.” The single word hung in the air between
them.

“You say you love him.” Calia’s voice sank to
a strained whisper. “Never say so again, for I will not believe
you.”

“You don’t seem to understand. If you’d only
stop worrying about what your supposedly wicked brother may do,
perhaps you could discern what the real purpose behind my actions
is.”

“My brother
is
wicked.”

“He may well be. Allow me to judge that for
myself when we meet. Please recall that I have never met my
daughter-in-law, Fenella, either, or her two sons. I have no idea
what any of them want or intend.”

Calia sank onto her bunk. There she sat,
regarding Lady Elgida across the narrow space dividing them. She
was still upset for Garit’s sake, but she had calmed down enough to
recognize what she ought to have seen days ago. Lady Elgida had
many reasons for what she was doing.

“Suppose you explain your ‘real purpose’ in
traveling to Kantia,” she said.

“Well done, my girl.” Lady Elgida nodded her
approval. “I knew you’d be sensible in the end. Now, be quiet, stop
arguing, and listen to me. Garit has been grieving over his lost
love for almost three years. His sister writes to me with some
regularity, and she claims that he has lost all interest in the
pleasurable pursuits that usually engage a man while he’s at a
royal court.

“At first, I didn’t take Marjorie’s
complaints much to heart, because she has always been a frivolous
young woman. But she persisted until I finally comprehended how
seriously worried she is – and Marjorie is rarely serious. I
decided that Garit needed rousing from his prolonged grief. I spent
more wakeful nights than I care to admit trying to devise an excuse
that would require him to visit Saumar.

“That is why I was so glad to see him when he
appeared on his own, with no prompting from me, and bringing news
that made it appear reasonable for me to decide to undertake this
voyage at this particular time.”

“You cannot imagine that having to do battle
with Mallory will improve Garit’s spirits,” Calia cried. “My
brother cares nothing for any code of honor, my lady. He won’t
fight fairly; he’ll do his best to kill your grandson.”

“You and I will have to think of a way to
prevent Mallory from winning the battle,” Lady Elgida said. “Or,
better yet, of forestalling physical combat entirely.”

“I am trying to understand your reasoning.”
Calia was close to tears with frustration. “Why won’t you listen to
me?
When I say Mallory won’t engage in a fair fight, I don’t
mean he’ll try some clever trick with a sword during hand-to-hand
combat. I mean he’ll resort to hiring someone to slip a dagger
between Garit’s ribs when he’s least expecting it. I mean three or
four varlets setting on him with blades or cudgels when he’s
unarmed, or sleeping. I mean poison that mimics illness and cannot
be cured because it was made using the corrupt Power that Mallory
inherited from our father. I mean an accident while riding that is
no accident, a saddle girth that breaks apart because it’s been
sliced half through in a way that cannot be detected unless you
know just where to look. Or, far easier to accomplish, a fall from
a great height.

“Best of all from Mallory’s point of view, he
may find a way to impugn Garit’s honor, perhaps accuse him of some
terrible crime and then watch while innocent Garit is punished for
it.” She stopped then, not because she was finished listing
Mallory’s vicious cleverness, but because Lady Elgida had gone pale
as she listened and her eyes were large and dark at the horrors
Calia was describing.

“Surely,” Lady Elgida whispered, “surely,
child, you haven’t witnessed all of that.”

“Only some of it,” Calia said. “The rest I
overheard when the people of Catherstone were whispering among
themselves. I wonder if you realize how difficult it is, how nearly
impossible, for a young girl whose only male relative is the man
who is ordering or committing such crimes, to do anything to stop
him? Mallory was seneschal of Catherstone. His word was law, as
good there as our father’s word, because Walderon backed him
completely.

“I did try,” she said. “I devised a foolish
plan, and with the help of one of the stable boys I gathered
certain proof of two deaths and almost-certain proof of a third. I
was going to present all of it to the king’s inspector when next he
made a routine visit to Catherstone. Then one morning the stable
boy was found dead of a broken neck. The head groom claimed that
he’d had too much wine and must have fallen from the highest loft
in the barn.

“And when next the king’s inspector appeared,
a full month later, he came with King Henryk’s men, demanding that
Mallory quit Catherstone by dawn of the next day, taking with him
only his horse, his armor, and his illegitimate sister.”

“Dear heaven.” The words seemed torn from
Lady Elgida’s pale lips. “Child, why didn’t you tell me all of this
when we spoke before about Mallory?”

“What could either of us have done about
Mallory’s crimes by then?” Calia asked. “I tell you now only
because you must understand how dangerous he is.”

Lady Elgida sat silently for a time, staring
down at the hands she had clenched in her lap during Calia’s
dreadful story. Then she seemed to recover. A bit of color returned
to her face and she lifted her head to look directly at Calia.

“Answer me this,” Lady Elgida said. “Whether
we continue on to Kantia or not, do you think Mallory
won’t
find a way to harm Garit? Or my other grandsons, too? If everything
you’ve just said is true – and I do not doubt you, Calia – then we
must assume that he won’t hesitate to kill again if he fears his
position is threatened.”

“That is so,” Calia admitted reluctantly.

“I’m glad you agree with me,” Lady Elgida
said. “You and I, knowing what we know about Mallory, have a duty
to prevent him from causing any harm to Garit, or to Belai and
Kinen. And that, my girl, is the best reason of all for us to
continue our voyage to Kinath.”

Calia didn’t stay to break her fast with
Garit and Lady Elgida. Instead, as soon as Garit appeared bearing
the basket of food she excused herself, saying she wanted to make
sure that Mairne wasn’t sick again. She snatched a chunk of bread
from the loaf that Garit had brought and left the cabin.

Once on deck she found Mairne sitting close
beside Anders in a sheltered spot near the forecastle, with the
squire’s arm across her shoulders.

“Don’t get up,” Calia said when Anders began
to scramble to his feet at her approach.

“I’m feeling better,” Mairne told her. “But
not well enough to eat,” she added, looking at the bread in Calia’s
hand.

“I’ll go elsewhere then, so you don’t have to
watch me eat,” Calia said. “Anders, Garit is with Lady Elgida. I
don’t think he’ll need you for an hour, at least.” She turned from
them to walk toward the stern.

“Come and sit with me,” called a cheerful
voice.

Durand perched upon the large deck hatch that
could be opened wide to allow cargo to be loaded into the hold. The
wooden frame of the hatch was raised about two feet off the deck.
The hatch cover sealed it against rain or high seas and provided a
convenient seat. Calia joined the nobleman and offered him a share
of her bread.

“Thank you. I do appreciate a lady who
supplies her own provisions.” He accepted the bread and began to
chew it.

“I have the impression that you are an
unwilling participant in this voyage,” he said after a moment.
“I’ve noticed the look on your face when Lady Elgida speaks of
visiting Kinath.”

“I am at my lady’s command,” Calia said. When
Durand looked at her with his raised eyebrows indicating disbelief
she added, “I go where I am told. It is my duty.”

“An interesting lady, your mistress. A most
determined lady.” He paused as if expecting Calia to make some
comment. When she said nothing, he tried again to lure her into
voicing an opinion. “I know Garit from meeting him at the Sapaudian
royal court, but I’ve never met Lady Elgida before. Nor you,
either, of course,” he ended with a friendly smile.

Calia recognized the tactic he was using.
She’d heard similar remarks from Mallory in the past, when he
wanted to learn something he believed she knew but wasn’t telling
him. She had even, three or four times, known her late father to
make a similar attempt to pry information out of her about Mallory,
or what the castle folk were up to. If no direct question was asked
of her, she could later be accused of volunteering information.

As she had done on those previous occasions,
she said nothing. She just sat there on the hatch cover, chewing
her bread and looking at the sea, until Durand uttered a rueful
laugh that told her he understood her reluctance to divulge
information to a near stranger.

“A young woman who is not a gossip,” he said.
“Remarkable.”

“It’s possible you’ve been so long at court,
my lord, that you think all women are gossips.” She bit back a
smile, almost certain she knew what his next remark would be. As it
happened, she was correct and he sounded like her father or her
brother.

“I was only trying to make pleasant
conversation,” he said.

“No, you were prying. I refuse to answer,
sir, for I have already guessed that you are a royal spy.” Calia
tore off a piece of bread from the chunk she held and popped it
into her mouth.