Homage and Honour (34 page)

“I think you’ll
find that has changed,” Jess answered. “You’ll be seeing a lot more
of us from now on. Can you ‘hear’ me and Mlei ‘talking’
together?”

“A bit. It’s
not as clear as before between Jon and his Lind and I can’t make
out your words clearly.”

: She will
be at Vada by season’s end :
prophesised Mlei.

Tiffney did not
‘hear’ this; she was wondering what her mother would say if she
learned that she could hear peoples’ thoughts. She’ll think I’m as
mad as a hatter!

The village was
a hive of industry. Tiffney’s mother was helping a man in Vada
maroon bandage old Gavin’s head and her father was organising the
roundup of the dispersed livestock.

“Kettle’s on
the boil,” said her mother, looking up, “get out of those wet
things then make the kala.”

Jess was
shocked and Mlei was equally surprised
: Well! Does she not
realise that her daughter almost died back there? She didn’t even
ask how she was! :

As Tiffney slid
off Mlei’s back Jess could see through the open door some girls,
smaller than Tiffney, putting the mess left by the pirates to
rights.

“Tiffney has
had a shock,” said Jess to the woman, “perhaps she should lie down
for a while. She nearly drowned up there.”

“She’ll be all
right,” was the less than soothing reply, “good for her to be kept
busy. You wet? If you are, change your clothes too. The wind has a
biting chill to it. Go sit over there on the bench by the barn.
That’s where you’ll be spending the night anyway. We’re not to be
left alone here until there’s proof positive that the pirates are
gone. Tiffney will bring some hot kala to you. Go.”

Jess and Mlei
went. Jon and Delya were inside the barn, the former changing out
of his wet clothes.

“Quite a
determined woman,” he commented, “care to guess who wears the
trousers in that cabin?”

Jess laughed
and settled down to wait.

: Delya says
that the woman cannot understand how the slavers got so far inland.
She is worried that they will come back and is wondering if she
should move the family further from the coast :
Mlei told
her.

: She told
Delya this? :

: No, Delya
says she picked it out of her mind :

: Like mother
like daughter. I wonder how they were missed when the unattached
Lind went seeking. I don’t think Tiffney knows that her mother also
has latent telepathic abilities :

: They come
from the islands not long ago :

: That’s why
they were missed, they weren’t here :

: They moved
here to the mainland to get away from the pirate threat :

: Mlei, ask
Delya to bespeak Jon to ask him what he thinks we should do about
it? :

“Nothing,” said
Jon himself as he emerged from the barn, warm and dry once more.
“We are not here to interfere in the lives of other people Cadet
Jess. Leave well be. Tiffney’s mother might have her own reasons
for wanting to keep separate from the Lind and the Vada.”

“But it seems
such a waste,” complained Jess, “I’m sure she would be great if she
got the chance.”

“Some people
don’t want it.”

“Has she said
that she doesn’t?” countered Jess. “Is her mother deciding for her?
That’s not right if she is.”
: Mlei, has the flag ever been
raised in this village? :

: Not to my
knowledge :

“Don’t
interfere Jess,” Jon warned.

Jess and Mlei
had a very close bonding so it was not surprising that Mlei put two
and two together and made four of it.

Jess was
sitting in the straw in the barn, gazing at the night skies and
wondering if her parents, brother and sisters were looking at the
same stars where they were.

It was evening
before he turned his head towards her (Jon was asleep, tired out
after the exertions of the day and Tiffney’s family were in their
cabin with double bars on the door and windows) and asked the
question
: Do you want me to try to speak with the girl?
:

: Yes :

Jess was most
decided on this. Jon had forbidden her to interfere but she
couldn’t help it. There was so much unhappiness in the world and
she felt sure that Tiffney, given the chance would want to
vadeln-pair with a Lind and reach out for the same loving bond that
she and Mlei shared.

: Tiffney says
that she will talk with us in the morning :

: Good :
replied Jess as she closed her eyes.

It was
Tiffney’s mother who brought their break of fast meal over to the
barn the next morning. Jess was disappointed it wasn’t Tiffney
herself.

“How is Tiffney
after her ordeal yesterday?” she asked, accepting the tray.

“My daughter
will be spending the day inside,” she answered. “I think it best
that she is kept quiet and she agrees with me.”

I’ll bet my
last shilling that she doesn’t
, thought the uncharitable Jess
and Mlei agreed.

: The woman
wants us to go. She thinks that we are more of a threat to her and
hers than are the pirates :

: Does she
know that Tiffney can hear you? :

There was a
pause.

: Not Tiffney,
a boy, her eldest son. She loves him and does not wish to lose him.
She wishes us gone although she is grateful for what we have done
:

It was Tiffney
who brought them their lunch, she explaining that her mother had
much to do and that she would not be able to bring over any other
meals. “Mother has said that I am to stay away from you,” she
whispered to Jess. “She says you’re leaving in the morning?”

“Yes we are,
early,” Jess whispered back and told her the route they intended to
take to rejoin the Ryzck.

With a shy
smile and a nod, Tiffney left.

Jon turned a
quizzical look on Jess.

: Jon
suspects what we are up to :
Mlei confided
: he cannot
condone it but he doesn’t want to stop it either. Dalya says that
he is attracted to Tiffney :

: Perhaps we
should set out on a new career as matchmakers :
joked Jess.

Thus it was
that when Jess and Mlei returned to Vada at the end of their
attachment, they brought with them a young girl named Tiffney and a
Lind named Qenei. The two, Tiffney and Qenei, had met outside
Stewarton and their mind bonding had occurred a scant two bells
later.

Tiffney and
Jess never became great friends such as the four members of the
Quartet were but they liked each other and met up from time to time
for kala and a chat.

Tiffney always
said that, without Jess’s help, she would never have found the
life-happiness she now had.

* * * * *

Dunthed (First Month of Winter) –
AL157

Queen (1)

Anne, Queen of
Murdoch was resting in her private apartments. With her were her
three children.

It was the only
place in the palace that she could really call her own. The Queen’s
Sitting Room it was called and none could enter without the Queen’s
express permission. It had been so for some decades.

The second King
Elliot’s wife and consort had begun the tradition during the early
years of her marriage and it had become her haven, a place apart
from the very public general court. Even the Queen’s ladies were
not allowed to enter at will. Queen Celine had suffered long at the
imposition of ladies not to her liking and by her husband and had
taken what steps she could.

The tradition
was that the Queen Consort ‘owned’ this private place. Of course,
Anne was a Queen Regnant but David had insisted that the tradition
continue and the Dukes of Duchesne and Cocteau had backed him up
much to the discomfiture of Sam Baker who had been of the opinion
that Anne should be available to him and the other palace nobility
at all times.

Little Ruth was
playing with her toys in one corner, Annette and Xavier sitting
close by on the comfortable settee whilst their mother prepared to
read them a letter she had received that very morning.

“Now, remember
that you mustn’t talk of this to anyone,” she reminded them as she
re-scanned the first lines.

“Is it really
from Jess, Mother?” asked Princess Annette.

“It’s certainly
her writing,” she answered, showing her the untidy scrawl.

“I wish she was
here with us,” was Xavier’s plaintive comment, “I miss her.”

“We all do,”
agreed his mother, “but she can never come here as I’ve explained
more than once. She cannot leave Mlei. He would not be welcome
here.”

“I don’t see
why not,” he argued.

Annette turned
to him, “Mlei’s a Lind. The Lind and the Larg are at war, have been
for years and years and years. Murdoch is an ally of the Larg.
Stupid.”

“Don’t call me
stupid,” her brother flared. “I’m the Crown-Prince and much more
important than you. You’re only a girl.”

“Hush
children,” remonstrated Anne. “Don’t you want to hear what your
sister has to say? And Xavier, I don’t want to hear any more such
talk. Annette is your older sister and deserves respect.”

“Sorry Mother,”
her son answered, abashed at this censure, “now can we hear the
letter?”

“Remember, it’s
a secret,” Anne reminded them. “The Conclave doesn’t know exactly
where Jess is and we need to keep it that way.”

“I remember,”
said Annette, “only the Dukes Cocteau and Duchesne, the Count
Charles and the Lord Marshall know. It’s to keep Jess and Mlei
safe.”

“Indeed. Now,
Jess is well and so is Mlei, she is enjoying the Vada and she
misses us all. Granny Jessica is recovering too.”

When David
entered the sitting room later, a bright-eyed Anne was waiting for
him.

“You look
cheerful enough,” he said as he lowered his lanky frame into the
vacant chair by the fireplace.

“I am,” she
agreed, “The Lord Marshall is not long departed.” Her words were
filled with meaning.

“Is it?”

“A letter from
Jess, yes it is, at last.”

“What does she
say?” David was all eagerness. His fingers were twitching as he
restrained himself from grabbing hold of the missive.

“She asks after
us all and wants to know what it’s like being a Queen!” Anne
grimaced, “I don’t think I’ll tell her the truth when I write back.
She writes about being a Princess in absentia and tells me that she
is being teased unmercifully about it by Tana.”

“Did Philip
Ross say he could get a letter back?”

Anne nodded.
She was sitting holding the precious letter as if she was
frightened to let it go, which, David was thinking, was probably
exactly what she did think. Anne had taken the enforced separation
from Jess much harder than he had. It was because she had so much
free time on her hands. David had made little progress with his
proposal that she should share the governmental load with him. The
concept that women were second-class citizens and incapable of
performing any tasks outside the home environment was well
entrenched in the minds of the male. So Anne spent the candlemarks
(it was hard to remember not to call them bells) in what was
considered suitable feminine pursuits, despite being Queen
Regnant.

“May I see the
letter?”

Anne let it go
with reluctance.

“She appears
well and happy,” he said, handing it back after he had read it
twice over. “These three girlfriends of hers are a fine bunch.”

“I’m still
worried,” his wife said. “I’m afraid the children will talk and the
other Dukes will find out about her. Ruth is too young to keep such
a secret.”

“It will come
out eventually,” David answered her unspoken question, “they know
there was an older daughter. You think they’ll go after her, bring
her south to join us. They can’t.”

“I’m not
completely
isolated here. Lady Cocteau was right. I
do
hear about things. Some of the Dukes are uneasy, even
William Duchesne. Their previous royal family was wiped out in a
flash. They want more heirs and Jess is of childbearing age and
they wouldn’t
need
Mlei. It would destroy Jess if Mlei were
to be killed.”

“It won’t
happen I swear to you,” said David, hoping that he could keep the
promise. “Of course, we could always have another of our own. That
should put an end to any grumblings.”

“I am not a
brood mare,” said Anne. She did however rise from her chair and
nestle into David on his.

Some tendays
later Prince Consort David, Count Charles Cocteau and Lord Marshall
Philip Ross went hunting.

In a clearing,
far from prying eyes and suspicious ears they stopped, dismounted
and, having tethered their horses, sat down on some nearby tree
trunks to have a talk. The subject under discussion was the Duke of
Baker.

“His grandson
can have the throne,” grumbled David.

“And could you,
in all honesty, leave Murdoch to be governed by Sam Baker?”

“At this
moment,” declared David,” yes I bloody well could.”

“And the Larg?”
Philip Ross continued, “though my intelligence indicates that they
don’t much care who rules here. I don’t understand it.”

“Don’t tell
that to the Duke of Baker,” advised Charles, “he’s accepted Anne.
Let sleeping Larg lie.”

“You think so?
Oh, I agree he’s paying lip service; the Bakers have a chequered
history. In the civil wars that family has always opposed the
crown. They are ambitious to a man.”

“What do you
mean that the Larg do not care,” queried David.

“They have
other fish to fry,” answered Philip.

“An attack? On
us?” David felt himself pale.

Philip frowned,
“it is unclear. That is one possibility.”

“There is no
way they could attack Argyll or Vadath,” argued David, “the North
has fortified the approach over the island chain. It’s an
impregnable barrier.”