Fortune and Fate (Twelve Houses) (32 page)

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Authors: Sharon Shinn

BOOK: Fortune and Fate (Twelve Houses)
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“Yet a taster really cannot guarantee anyone’s safety,” Tayse said. “If the venom is designed to act slowly, both Donnal and Cammon could seem perfectly healthy through the whole meal, only to succumb some hours later.”
 
 
Kirra was practically bouncing on the bed. “I know!
I
will be the taster. But as I handle every dish, I’ll change its composition, so there is no chance of any poison making its way into Cammon’s mouth.”
 
 
“Now that’s an interesting idea,” Senneth said.
 
 
“That’ll be the blandest meal Cammon’s ever eaten,” Justin said. “What will you change his food to? Since you can’t actually cook a decent meal.”
 
 
“Just because I wouldn’t mind if
you
starved to death doesn’t mean I can’t prepare a meal if I have to,” Kirra returned.
 
 
“Won’t this vassal lord be expecting to see Kirra as well?” Tayse asked.
 
 
Kirra’s face was alight with deviltry. “Donnal can go as me,” she said. “You’ve seen how well he can counterfeit my shape.”
 
 
To prove it, Donnal underwent one of his amazingly fast transformations, and it suddenly looked for all the world as if Kirra was sitting at the hearth holding an assortment of cards. “I can copy her voice as well, though I don’t think I would know what to
say
,” Donnal said, sounding exactly like Kirra.
 
 
“Just talk nonsense,” Justin advised. “No one will be able to tell the difference.”
 
 
Kirra snatched up one of the pillows from the bed and threw it at him. Grinning broadly, he batted it aside to keep it from going into the fire.
 
 
“I suppose it could work,” Senneth said slowly. “Tayse, what do you think?”
 
 
“It will serve,” Tayse said.
 
 
“Good,” Cammon said. “Now let’s play cards.”
 
 
How could you resist a ruler who was so wise one moment, so boyish the next? Senneth joined him at the table, ruffling his hair as she sat beside him, and the others all regrouped around them. Tayse dealt, while Senneth and Kirra filled Donnal and Justin in on the conversation over dinner.
 
 
“Not that I blame those boys for hating Nate, but
that’s
a situation that won’t get better anytime soon,” Senneth said, describing Warren’s exit.
 
 
“Has Nate given any thought to what will happen once Warren becomes marlord?” Kirra asked. “I’d think he’d find it uncomfortable to live here, unless relations dramatically improve.”
 
 
“Is it certain Warren will be marlord?” Cammon asked. They all looked at him. “What?” he said. “Sometimes it’s not the oldest child who’s the heir.”
 
 
“As we all know,” Kirra said dryly. Her own younger sister would inherit Danalustrous from their father.
 
 
“Would the younger boy be a better choice?” Senneth asked. “Could you tell enough about their personalities to judge that?”
 
 
Cammon was rearranging his cards. “Actually, if you want the truth, I preferred Warren. There’s a slyness to his brother. He’s devious. Warren at least is honest.”
 
 
“It might be worth giving Nate that piece of advice. Nurture the older boy, and be wary of the younger,” Kirra said.
 
 
“Certainly.
You
tell Nate that,” Senneth said. “He’s always so willing to listen to someone else’s opinion.”
 
 
Justin tossed down three cards and took the hand, as everyone else groaned. “The oldest boy was hanging around the soldiers this afternoon,” Justin said. “Looked like he would have liked to join the workouts but didn’t quite have the nerve. If he shows up tomorrow, I’ll offer to teach him some Rider tricks.”
 
 
“Oh, that answers perfectly!” Kirra said. “Because you’re just the man to give anyone else’s self-confidence a boost. And, of course, it’s an excellent idea to help a young malcontent learn fighting techniques that no one will be able to fend off.”
 
 
Even Tayse was laughing. Justin grinned, unrepentant. “I think I know something about violent young men who need a little direction,” he said.
 
 
“I’m so glad,” Kirra said, “since you know nothing else.”
 
 
Senneth laid down her cards and yawned widely. “Enough pleasantries for the day, I think,” she said. “I’m off to bed. I’ll see you all in the morning.”
 
 
 
 
SENNETH
slept late, even though Tayse was stirring and out the door by dawn. When she finally went down to breakfast, she found Sabina alone at the table, working on correspondence.
 
 
“Nate has taken Cammon on a ride around the grounds, trailed by a half dozen Riders,” Sabina said. “Is Justin with your party? I didn’t see him this morning.”
 
 
It took Senneth a moment to remember why Sabina would know to ask for Justin by name, but of course, they had shared an adventure about six months before the war. Sabina had grown convinced that Halchon meant to kill her and slipped away from him one winter afternoon. It was only by the sheerest good fortune that she had happened upon Justin, who had sheltered her until he could turn her over to Senneth. Who had ultimately turned Sabina over to Nate. Senneth still found the workings of the human heart to be entirely mysterious.
 
 
“He
is
with us, and I’m sure he would be delighted if you sought him out,” Senneth replied. “Justin’s married now, too—to a Lirren girl—and has a baby daughter. Still as fierce as he ever was, though.”
 
 
“He saved my life,” Sabina said.
 
 
“Yes,” Senneth said. “I was never so proud of him.”
 
 
They were silent while a servant brought food and hot tea for Senneth, but as soon as the girl left, Sabina gestured to a letter open on the table. “Seton Mayman sent a note this morning,” she said. “Asking again that we all come to dinner at his house in a few days. May I tell him we will?”
 
 
“Making it clear that there will be nine Riders in our party, in the room with Cammon at all times. Oh, and a man to taste Cammon’s food.”
 
 
“A taster?” Sabina said uncertainly. “Did he have one last night?”
 
 
“No, but you might not tell Seton Mayman that. As long as he agrees to the rings of protection that we consider essential, we will be happy to accompany Cammon to his house.”
 
 
“I’m sure he will,” Sabina said, giving the smile that made her look so pretty. “I will write instantly and let him know we have accepted.”
 
 
 
 
AFTER
the late breakfast, Senneth let Sabina get back to her household duties while she wandered the grounds. The day was sunny and considerably warmer than it would have been farther north in Ghosenhall, and she enjoyed the stroll through the unpretentious and well-maintained acres. At the back of the property, she came across a small practice yard where about a dozen men in Gisseltess colors were working out. Most of them weren’t paying much attention to their opponents because they kept sneaking looks to watch two Riders in combat.
 
 
Senneth settled against the fence to take in the sight. It was Justin pitted against Janni, a mismatch in the general sense. These days only Tayse could reliably defeat Justin; and even so, Justin bested the older Rider every third or fourth outing. At a year or so shy of thirty, Justin was in superb physical condition, burly enough to put real power into his swings but lithe enough to move with astonishing quickness. Tayse was bigger, older, sometimes a step slower, but so experienced that his guile usually made up for any loss of prowess.
 
 
Janni, a sunny-tempered woman with curly dark hair and a blinding smile, obviously didn’t have Justin’s strength, but she was faster and completely fearless. She attacked him with lightning strokes and danced back out of reach, making him work hard to counter her agility with his brute power. Still, it was no real surprise when Justin eventually battered her down with a series of ringing blows. They were using practice blades, but Senneth, who was a decent swordswoman herself, knew that Janni would come out of this encounter covered with bruises.
 
 
“Dead,” Justin announced, pulling back his sword and helping Janni to her feet. “But not without crippling me severely. Good job.”
 
 
Janni was panting but cheerful. “I think you’ve got a gut wound that’ll lay you up for a month. Maybe it’ll get infected and you’ll die.”
 
 
“I have mystic friends,” Justin retorted. “They’ll heal me.”
 
 
One of the Gisseltess soldiers stopped making any pretense of fighting his own battle and came a few steps closer to the Riders. That’s when Senneth realized it was Warren. “How’d you learn to fight like that?” the boy asked. His face was alight with excitement, making him almost unrecognizable from the sullen serramar of the night before.
 
 
Justin pulled a dagger, flipped it, caught it, and sheathed it again. He didn’t usually indulge in showy tricks, so Senneth assumed he was making a point about basic coordination. “Practiced every day, all day, till my hands were bleeding and I couldn’t feel my feet,” Justin said. “Never bothered doing anything else.”
 
 
“I’ve never seen anybody that good,” Warren said.
 
 
Justin looked him over deliberately, assessing height, reach, muscle tone. “You’ve got the right build,” he said. “You could probably do some damage if you were properly taught.”
 
 
Warren’s sudden eagerness propelled him a step closer. “Would you teach me? Now? Show me how a Rider fights?”
 
 
Justin didn’t even glance back at Senneth, though he had to know she was there. Justin always knew who was within a fifty-foot radius of him. “Why not?” he drawled. “I’ve got a little time. But you can’t moan if you get hurt. This is a hard business, and you have to be hard yourself.”
 
 
“I will be. I am,” Warren promised. He was rebuckling his protective vest and hefting his practice sword.
 
 
“Weapons up,” Justin said, and lunged for him.
 
 
Senneth only stayed for another twenty minutes to watch the demonstration, but it was clear Justin knew exactly what he was doing. He never let Warren land a blow or indulge any thought of besting the Rider, but he slowly and methodically demonstrated some of his own most lethal moves, then walked the boy through them over and over. Warren was all rapt attention and boundless effort, and he watched Justin as if one of the gods themselves had dropped down to give him a fencing lesson. “Good,” Senneth heard Justin say as she walked away. “You’ve almost got it. More power in the swing. No, balance your weight on your left foot . . .”
 
 
Justin a hero to Halchon Gisseltess’s son. Surely, the world was so strange Senneth would never be able to comprehend it.
 
 
 
DINNER
that evening was disagreeably formal. To please Nate and honor her royal charge, Senneth had worn a dress ever since she arrived in Gissel Plain, eschewing her usual trousers and plain attire. Tonight, of course, she must not just wear a dress; she must wear a gown and style her hair and try to look every inch the serramarra. She choose a dress of Brassenthwaite blue in striking lines, accenting it with the gold necklace Tayse had given her as a wedding gift. It lay just so it covered the Brassenthwaite housemark burned into her skin.
 
 
She used to wear a moonstone bracelet as well, but she had given that up when she almost lost her magic. Moonstones leached power away from a mystic, and these days Senneth didn’t feel she had any to spare.
 
 
She collected Kirra and they headed down to dinner. Tonight, of course, Tayse had not been invited to join them and Sabina had taken great care with the table arrangements. The two serlords were seated closest to Cammon, and a bejeweled array of other vassal lords and ladies spread from his central presence like an army outfitted from a treasure house.
 
 
Senneth was seated among the lesser lords, and she spent most of the meal making laborious conversation with the man on her right. During lulls in conversation, she tried to listen to the rest of the talk around the table. The men sitting on either side of Kirra appeared to be having a much more lighthearted time of it, while those clustered close to Cammon wore looks of polite bafflement. She wasn’t surprised so many people didn’t know what to make of the royal consort.

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