Palace of Stone (24 page)

“You’re one of the Mount Eskel girls, aren’t you?” he asked. “I saw you in the palace courtyard.”

She nodded. Her eyes flicked to his belt to make sure he was not carrying a pistol.

“What are you trying to do?” he asked.

“Rebuild the edifice.”

His brows twitched in surprise. “And what have you got so far?”

She held up her two pieces.

“That much, huh?”

His smile made her want to smile.

“They’re going to be a step,” she said. “See how cleverly I nailed the wood together to almost form a square?”

“I do indeed.”

“A square is a lot harder than it looks. Why, a square is perhaps the most difficult shape in all the world.”

He laughed and put on worn leather gloves. “Lady Mount Eskel, what I need is a sorter. You think you could arrange wood in piles by size?”

Miri’s grin felt good against her cheeks. “I think I have the potential to be the most amazing sorter you’ve ever seen.”

She worked till she was sweating, sorting wood, piling loose nails. The lonely sound of the man’s single hammer multiplied, and she knew others had joined them. Hammer and nail, saw and ax, the
snap
of fabric and the
creak
of joints—the noise of work was loud and merry as a festival. She did not rest. All that mattered was the speed of her own two hands. If she kept working, perhaps she could help Peder, and Britta and Steffan, Mount Eskel, and all of Danland too. If she just worked hard enough.

Soon she was singing as she worked, a Mount Eskel habit. Her third time through a work song, other voices joined in, picking up the words.

She felt dazed by her sleepless night and too focused to pay attention to anything beyond her own hands, so by the time she stood up, stretched, and looked, the Green had collected a mob.

She saw feathered and flat caps, blue-bannered and bare arms, the solid black of servant attire beside the colorful skirts of merchants’ daughters and the silk trousers of noble sons. All were rebuilding the edifice. It was not the same edifice as before; it was lower and longer, cobbled together and a little rough. But it stood. She stuck the last copy of “The Robber Princess” to its front.

The lean man called to her from the platform and pointed up. He’d nailed her misshapen squares to the tallest pole like a banner, its colors the blue sky beyond.

“It’s been two days, and the rebuilt edifice is still on the Green,” Miri told Peder, though she was not certain he was awake. He slept most of the time, moaning when Esa changed his bandages or swabbed his face. “The first day, soldiers guarded it through the night, but the king called them away. I think he’s testing Asland, letting them decide if Steffan and Britta should wed. If they tear it back down …”

Esa put a hand on Miri’s shoulder, letting her know the visit was over. Peder’s little sister looked as tired as Miri felt, darkness under her eyes.

Miri went in search of Britta, hoping at last to talk to her alone, but before she reached Britta, Inga found her. Miri was commanded to see the king.

Miri joined him in the throne room, where he sat grandly on his gilded wooden chair in a cavernous linder hall. She remembered the proper curtsy for such an occasion and performed it with only a small trip. Gummonth, beside the king as usual, did not hide his smirk.

“You were brave,” said the king.

She nodded. She did not feel particularly brave, but she did not want to argue with a king—at least, not about that.

“You were also too familiar.”

She nodded again.

“You may go,” he said.

She blinked in surprise and turned away.

“You’re welcome,” she said under her breath.

“What was that?”

She came back. “I said ‘you’re welcome,’ because I think you brought me here to say a thank-you of sorts, and it’s not your fault if no one ever taught you those words. But that’s no reason for me not to be polite and say ‘you’re welcome’ as I ought to.”

His eyes widened, but they wrinkled slightly too, as if he was amused. Now she did indeed feel brave, if a bit embarrassed. But she was too worried and tired to care about angering a king.

“Sire, I’m going to be overfamiliar for a few moments more. You should know that every time you take tributes of food, food prices go up, and people starve.”

The king made a noise of surprise and indignation. “Starve? Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Go out into your kingdom and see for yourself. There are poor everywhere, except Mount Eskel this year, because for the first time we have enough to eat. But that will change when you demand Gummonth’s high tribute of us too. A lot is changing in Danland, and none for the better.”

He straightened, his chin flexed, whiskers bristling. “My officials assure me I may take as I please. I am king.”

“Exactly! You’re a
king
, not a bandit. Don’t let them bully you into being one.”

“Enough insolence!” said Gummonth. He started forward as if to physically remove Miri from the room.

“Wait,” said the king. He considered them both, then said to Gummonth, “Step outside, sir, if you please.”

Miri resisted sticking out her tongue at Gummonth, but only barely. Gummonth’s face turned a fierce red, but he bowed and left.

The king looked at Miri.

She looked at him.

He smiled. She could not remember seeing him smile before.

Too curious to be quiet any longer, she asked, “Is it easier to sense what I’m feeling when we’re alone?”

He nodded. “I am beginning to realize just how strongly my chief official
feels
things, and how easy it is to feel as he does whenever he is near.”

“Which is often,” she said.

He nodded again. And smiled again. She smiled back. And then the king did something that surprised Miri more than a musket shot—he laughed. A dozen lines wrinkled out from the corners of his eyes, and Miri thought he looked the better for it.

“You have a good sense about you, don’t you?” he said. “I like it.”

“I like you too,” she said, and was happy to believe it.

They talked longer, about linder and quarry-speech, and even the pleasures of a roast duck. But when Miri suggested he listen to the revolution’s concerns and consider making changes, his smile dimmed and his look returned to stern.

“My duty,” he said, “my entire reason for existence, is to protect the power of the crown. I will never budge on that.”

But he did not seem angry, and when Gummonth came back, the king declared Miri would find his next meeting interesting and bid her accompany him. Gummonth impressed Miri with his ability to look like the nastiest, orneriest billy goat she could imagine.

“With all that has occurred, sire,” said Gummonth as they made their way to a receiving room, “I must insist that you further enlarge your royal guard.”

Miri pressed her fingernails into her palms to keep from shouting her opinion on the matter. Just outside the door, the king halted.

“No, not this time, Gummonth. I know you mean to protect me, but not at the expense of those who pay for it. Train them properly and those we have will suffice.”

Miri smiled. She stood by the door, letting the king and Gummonth go in first.

Gummonth turned back to whisper, “No one ever wants to pay the tribute, but they always do.”

Miri’s mood sank. But as she walked into the room, she was comforted by Steffan’s smile. He motioned for her to sit beside him at the round table of officials, where the Justice Official presented a suspects list.

A chief guard had already confessed to accepting a bribe from the assassin to misdirect the other guards and leave the royal family unprotected.

“This chief guard ignored the mandate to stay no more than eight hours each day in the king’s wing,” said Steffan. “For years, he secretly slept in the linder-walled guardroom instead of the barracks.”

Steffan looked at Miri, and she nodded slightly to show that she understood—this guard must have developed linder wisdom, and so was able to sift the disloyal from the rest to choose his coconspirators.

Before his execution, the chief guard had written the names of all who had played a part in the scheme.

Miri peered at Steffan’s copy of the list. She was not surprised to see Sisela’s name, but the rest of her Salon, including Timon, had escaped notice.

So did Liana
, Miri thought, just now realizing what must be true: Liana had been part of the conspiracy. She knew about the danger in the refuge room and so fled it when she had a chance. The thought that someone from Mount Eskel would have tried to get Britta killed made Miri so angry she could have chewed rocks to dust.

“The law is clear,” said Gummonth. “Treason is a capital offense.”

“Your Highness?” Miri said.

Gummonth groaned, and other officials started whispering to one another, as if to question Miri’s presence at all. But the king gestured at her, allowing her to speak.

“I recently read about an old Danlandian custom. Past kings often heard grievances in their linder halls and pronounced judgment themselves.”

Knowing now the royal secret about linder, Miri wondered if the tradition was a chance for the king to sense the truth in a person before pronouncing judgment. Even though the people on the list had conspired to kill her friend, Miri felt sick looking over the long list and imagining them all called to the Green. So many names, so many lives.

The king announced he would meet the first few prisoners personally the next day. Gummonth would not join him.

Miri had not truly believed her suggestion would change anything. However, the very next morning the royal news journal listed the rebels’ names but declared no more would face execution.

A kingdom at war with itself will not long stand. Let us wash the blood from our hands and start anew.

Miri laughed out loud with relief. She wondered what Sisela would make of that!

But mistake not this pardon for unlimited lenience. Any new crimes of treason will be punished swiftly and justly. The so-called revolution ends now, or the executioner’s ax will fall.

Though many lives would be spared, Miri was not completely at rest. She discovered from Bena where Liana was now staying, and she went alone to the opulent inn.

“You heard that I’m getting married?” Liana said, inviting Miri to sit on the white velvet sofa in her suite. She looked more beautiful than ever in a pink silk dress, her hair pinned up as the Aslandian women did. “My betrothed is paying for my private accommodations here. He keeps a country home in Elsby
and
a town home in Asland, and employs twenty-eight servants, not including his tenant farmers, of course. He owns a gem mine and paid fifteen gold for my trousseau, which includes two velvet travel dresses, three garden party dresses, five—”

“I know you betrayed Britta,” Miri said.

Liana’s mouth was still open from speaking. She snapped it shut. Then, batting her eyes, she said, “Pardon me?”

“Yes, the king
pardoned
all of you, didn’t he?” said Miri, holding up the news journal. “That faithless guard saw the bitterness you harbored against Britta and Steffan and knew you’d be willing to help. Was your part to keep the Mount Eskel girls away from Britta so she would be alone and vulnerable? You might as well have tied up a goat and left her on a hill for the wolves. I suppose you thought
you
should have been chosen as the princess. I have made a lot of mistakes—we all do—but what you did was way beyond
wrong
.”

“Really, Miri—” Liana started, but Miri was not done. She’d seen Britta almost killed, and Peder was so fevered her own skin ached just to think of it. She was in no mood to worry about the rules of Rhetoric.

“The king pardoned all of you,” said Miri, “and so I’ll try to as well. But if you do or say anything against Britta again—make no mistake—I will tell your parents.”

Liana stared, and Miri expected her to deny everything. But then she laughed. “You’re going to
tattle
on me?”

“For all you’re so eager to leave Mount Eskel, I know you care about them. Just imagine the look on your parents’ faces if I told them you tried to get our Britta murdered.”

Liana was not laughing anymore.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tattle if you’re good,” Miri said, rising to go. “But I do think Britta and Steffan should know what you did. I doubt you will be welcome in their court.”
If they marry
, Miri thought. “I understand nobles who aren’t courtiers are often scorned by other nobles in Asland. I hope you enjoy Elsby, because that’s where you’ll be spending the rest of your life.”

She was stepping out the door when Liana spoke again.

“Britta knew what the lowlands were like,” Liana said. “She
knew
about the food and servants and furs and feather beds, the concerts and the carriages and the way the noble ladies dress. You know why she never told us how wonderful it is? Because she didn’t want any of us to get between her and the fancy linder palace.”

“You’re wrong. Her lowlander life was not wonderful, no matter what she ate or wore.”

“Don’t imagine for a moment she would have given up this life to freeze half the year and work in a quarry.”

“Steffan chose her, Liana. It’s over.”

“She had no right!” Liana’s beautiful face turned a beautiful shade of purple. “She’s a liar! If she hadn’t been there—”

“Then Steffan would have chosen me!” Miri shouted back. She’d never allowed herself to think it, let alone say it, but she knew it was true. “So it’s
my
choice to make, and I say Britta is more of Mount Eskel than you are, and I give her to Steffan. Liana, you
never
would have been the princess.”

Liana leaned back as if she’d been struck. She blinked rapidly and then stammered, “It-it-it’s not over, you know. The revolution has already started. The people won’t just let it go.”

Miri let Liana have the last word and quietly shut the door.

Gerti was waiting for Miri back at the palace entrance.

“They want you in the physician’s chamber.”