If there was the faintest of twinkles in the pale brown of Tedric's washed-out eyes, Derian felt comforted by it rather than threatened.

"Well, Your Majesty, Firekeeper came to me with this story..."

As concisely as possible he told the tale as Firekeeper had him, adding the information he had garnered from his own questions. Out of fairness to Firekeeper, he spoke not one word to protect himself from accusations of being too credulous, but spoke as if he believed-as he realized that he did-both that she could understand the wolf and that the wolf could read the winds as humans read print.

When he finished his report, the king said mildly, "Well, that's interesting indeed. I wonder..."

Closing his eyes, he sat silently mulling over the information for so long that even Derian, who respected him with something close to awe, thought he might have fallen asleep. At last, the king opened his eyes and said: "If Valora was behind the attack on Sapphire and Shad then she must be sorely disappointed. Nor do I find it surprising that Duke Half-Moon, her representative, was among the first to take his leave. Still, as pleasant as it might be, we cannot take her mere presence in the vicinity as proof of guilt. We can stand warned, but we cannot act, not without risking war."

When Derian glanced at Firekeeper, he found the wolf-woman's expression unreadable.

"We could not," King Tedric continued, speaking directly to Firekeeper, "even if our witness was more prominent than one keen-nosed wolf. For all we know, this is precisely what whoever sent the a.s.sa.s.sins was hoping for-that we would accuse Valora and that she could then use such accusations to trigger a war. Many of those who now stand neutral would choose her side if they felt that King Allister and myself were acting in a high-handed fashion."

Firekeeper spread her hands widely. "But what to do? We do not want to start a war, but I think Queen Valora does. What to do to stop this?"

"We keep alert," the king said, "and calm and give no reason for outcry against us. The longer we act in such a manner, the longer will those neutral parties see us as the bastions of a solid kingdom and Valora as the warmonger rather than the wronged queen seeking to return to her people.""It seem wrong," Firekeeper said, voicing the protest Derian could not bring himself to speak, "to let her do harm and not harm back."

"True," the king said, "but my hope is that Valora-or whoever was behind this attempt, for we have no definite proof-will harm herself."

Firekeeper looked puzzled. "How?"

King Tedric answered her with a question of his own. "Don't wolves drive the deer?"

The young woman frowned. "Yes and when they run then we catch the slow and weak."

"And sometimes," the king continued, "don't you catch those who make themselves slow and weak when they trip right over their own feet?"

Firekeeper nodded, smiling her understanding. Derian wished he felt as certain that Queen Valora could be made to trip.

Firekeeper asked, "Will you tell King Allister what we tell you?"

"In confidence," Tedric replied, "even as you have told me. I think Allister's Whyte Steel can be trusted, but we must keep this close. After all we cannot have new rumors starting that kings are now taking counsel from little girls."

Derian knew that Firekeeper would have growled if anyone else had called her such, but the king's age was so great that even she saw he had earned the right.

"We try," she said, stroking Blind Seer's fur, "Blind Seer and me, to do what we can to make, you safe."

"We appreciate that," the king said, "and someday, in the ungrateful fashion of kings, we may call upon you to do even more."

Derian wondered at the force in those simple words and felt himself squaring his shoulders as if he was a soldier called to duty.

A chiming of bells made the king sigh.

"As much as I would rather prolong this visit," he said, "that announces my next appointment. Keep what you have told me to yourselves. Trust that I will pa.s.s it on where it will do the most good."

"We do, Your Majesty," Derian said.

Firekeeper nodded agreement and rose lithely to her feet. Together they bowed and took their leave. As they left, they were surprised to see Doc waiting to come in, his expression grave and a rolled piece of paper held loosely in one long-fingered hand.

"Anything wrong with your patients, Doc?" Derian asked, regretting his impulsiveness even as he spoke.

If either Shad or Sapphire had taken a turn for the worse, Doc would certainly not speak of it in a public hallway.

Doc, however, smiled rea.s.surance. "No, this time I am the patient-after a fashion. I'll see you later."

Leaving them mystified, the knight entered the royal presence. As the door shut behind him, Derian realized that Firekeeper was looking at him, clearly expecting him to clarify Doc's cryptic statement."I don't know what he meant," Derian said honestly, clearly disappointing not only Firekeeper but the two listening door guards as well. "But I suppose he'll tell us later."

Firekeeper shrugged. "I'm hungry. Let's get something to eat."

Beside her, Blind Seer opened his mouth to show his teeth, panting in what seemed obvious agreement.

He understands us, Derian thought, far better than we do him. Any of us, that is, he amended, but Firekeeper.

"I could use something myself," he said aloud. "Let's drop down to the servants' hall. There's usually at least bread and cheese."

Derian thought that it said something about Firekeeper's character that neither he nor she thought it at all remarkable that Lady Blysse Kestrel should go from an audience with a king to dining in the servants'

hall. What Derian didn't consider was that it said something about himself as well.

Chapter VI.

At about the same time Firekeeper and Blind Seer were heading off to see Derian, Lady Elise Archer went to call on her cousin Sapphire-and to take her turn as interior chamber guard.

There were two armed guards outside the door to the makeshift infirmary, and more patrolled the gardens outside the windows. Shad and Sapphire both had balked at having other guards inside the room, and a compromise had been reached. Someone they viewed as a friend rather than a henchman-no matter how loyal-was to stay within the room. That person was given a bell-pull with which to alert the corridor guards and instructions to raise a fuss at the least suspicion of trouble.

As with most compromises, no one was completely happy, but as everyone was less unhappy the arrangement worked out.

Elise was scheduled to relieve Prince Tavis, who had taken the early-morning shift. The young prince didn't leave immediately when she arrived, but stayed to finish the game he was playing with his brother.

It was a complicated tactical game in which one side took the role of the pirates and the other that of a naval contingent sent to hunt them out. Each piece seemed to have its own values and rules for moving and attacking.

Though the board was rather pretty, and the carved and painted pieces representing the ships were absolutely darling, Elise was rather relieved that no one expected her to learn it. Sapphire, on the other hand, all but panted to have a chance. When Elise came in, she was alternating between reading the rules pamphlet and asking questions about the game in process.

After greeting all present, Elise accepted the bell-pull from Tavis, freeing him to concentrate on his game.

At times the arguments over moves became rather heated-so heated that Elise, who was an only child, was startled that such furious debate could be followed by laughter and even cheers at a particularly good move by one player or another.

For her part, she pulled out her embroidery and arranged her chair to make the most of the midmorning light. After a while, Tavis left, still arguing that his brother's winning tactic had been unfair. Shad, who had been playing the pirates, laughingly told him that expecting fairness from pirates had been the downfall offar too many naval commanders.

"Elise," Sapphire said soon after Tavis had departed, "do you think you could put that sewing by and give me a hand? I think I understand how to move the pieces now, but our beds are too far apart for us to play even with the table set between them."

"But if I," Elise said, divining her thought, "came and moved your pieces for you, then the board could stay where it is."

"Exactly!" Sapphire replied, pleased.

Elise was pleased, too. The distance which the newlyweds' beds had been set had been dictated by the wishes of both the attending physicians-who wanted to make certain that their patients were not tempted into unwise actions-and by those concerned with security, who wanted to make certain that there were no narrow avenues to block any defensive actions should they prove necessary.

As with the need for someone in the room at all times, this arrangement had rather irked both Shad and Sapphire. Elise had overheard the prince saying to his father that the only thing worse than being married to a beautiful woman and being forced to delay the wedding night was being locked in a room with her day and night and not being permitted even to hold her hand.

King Allister had replied rather dryly that Shad and Sapphire could be put in different rooms, if that would be preferable, and Shad had quickly stopped complaining.

Elise was rather happy that her quick agreement had kept the complaints from starting again. Privately, she was in sympathy with the newlyweds, but she couldn't forget the blood-soaked carpet in the Sphere Chamber or the whiteness of Sapphire's face after she had been wounded. If prudence would prevent this happening again, so be it.

For the next hour or so, Elise obediently moved naval ships along the paths Sapphire dictated. She was even getting a feeling for the strategies involved in constructing effective search patterns when there was a knock on the door and the porter announced Lord Rory Seal, the Royal Physician.

Elise swallowed a groan as Shad politely thanked the porter and said that Lord Rory should be admitted.

She couldn't help it. She didn't like the pompous n.o.bleman. It wasn't just that she felt annoyed at how he treated Sir Jared, it was that even to someone with her limited training in the healing arts he was so obviously incompetent.

Perhaps, Elise admitted to herself, barely competent would be a fairer description. Lord Rory knew enough to act the physician, but Elise thanked her patron Lynx that Sir Jared, not Lord Rory, had been the first on the scene when the a.s.sa.s.sins had attacked.

Superficially, Lord Rory looked exactly as a trusted family doctor should. A man in his middle forties, he was tall enough to possess an aura of command, but not so tall as to be intimidating. His build was precisely right, hinting at an athletic youth maintained into his mid-years, but without some frantic attempt to pa.s.s for younger than he was. In repose, his face bore lines that hinted at deep thought-though Elise preferred to believe that they indicated a need for spectacles. His hair was heavily, but attractively, touched with silver. He wore no beard.

Elise couldn't help but notice that the leather bag in which Lord Rory carried his physician's tools was unscarred and showed no sign of having been through weather. Equally, the tools within were perfectly kept-and hardly used. Moreover, they lacked the variety and personalization she had seen in Doc's bag, the sense of items added as they were discovered, tested, and found useful.All in all, Elise didn't like Rory Seal a bit, but though she would have been happy to retreat to her embroidery, a sense of responsibility acquired with her field training kept her nearby. It would have been wrong to leave Sapphire and Shad at the Royal Physician's clumsy mercy.

"Well, how are you two lovebirds?" Lord Rory said heartily, clearly believing that he was privileged beyond formalities-at least in private. Elise had noted, again to his detriment, that when kings or queens were present, he was correct enough that a ruder person than herself might have said he was groveling.

"My wound is nearly healed," Sapphire replied bluntly, "and I grow tired of staying in bed."

Shad, who had, as Doc had predicted, actually had taken more damage from the poison introduced into his system than had been initially obvious, said much the same.

Lord Rory laughed in his bluff and hearty manner.

"Now it's good to hear you speaking that way, but," and here he paused to twinkle in what Elise found a nauseating manner, "that's for wiser heads to decide."

Sapphire, who had been wounded before in battle, clearly found this condescension infuriating but she held her temper as befitted the heir to two thrones. Shad, perhaps because longer experience had inured him to the man, did not seem offended. When requested, he showed becoming meekness as he extended his wrist so that his pulse could be taken.

Shad may, Elise thought, swallowing a giggle, be the perfect husband for Sapphire. His patience has been tested by far more trying people.

Coming closer, Elise affected an air of maidenly modesty when the time came for Lord Rory to inspect Sapphire's vital signs and the healing wound. He had shown his inexperience before, becoming quite embarra.s.sed when opening the princess's gown to check the slice along her side and into her breast.

Elise spared him the worst, opening the b.u.t.tons on the gown and parting the fabric just wide enough to permit him to see the cut. It was healing neatly, helped along by Doc's talent so that the st.i.tches could probably be removed soon.

Lord Rory, however, barely glanced at the cut, his flushed face and nervous glances in Shad's direction making quite clear that he feared the prince's ire for taking such liberties, especially with his yet unbedded bride.

This time Sapphire showed no mercy.

"How are the st.i.tches, Lord Rory?" she asked, her query forcing him to take a longer look and even to touch the healing flesh to either side.

"They are holding nicely," Lord Rory replied hastily. "Very nicely."

"And when shall they come out?" Sapphire pressed. "I've had such procedures before and found that when they feel this way they are usually ready to be removed. Perhaps they should be taken out now.

Lady Elise has a.s.sisted with such many times before."

Lord Rory stood up and frowned a fatherly frown that held just a hint of a condescending smile.

"Now, young lady, it is not your place to dictate such important medical decisions. Nor should you put such burdens * on your pretty cousin."Elise replied dryly, "I a.s.sure you, it would be no burden at all. As Sapphire said, I have a.s.sisted in far more onerous operations."

Sapphire continued pushing her point, speaking demurely, those dangerous blue eyes held downcast and modest.

"Indeed, Lord Rory, I am eager to have the st.i.tches removed. They are a barrier to my doing my duty to husband and kingdom..."

A choked-off gurgle of laughter from Shad almost interrupted her.

"And a princess must not be prevented from doing her duty to her land," Sapphire concluded with amazing steadiness.

Elise admired how Sapphire managed to look both innocent and powerfully seductive as she peered up at the physician through her thick, blue-black lashes.

Lord Rory colored to the silver hair at his temples.

"I do not..." He stopped and began again. "I shall take the matter under consideration," he replied.

Then, packing the few items from his bag with almost indecent haste, Lord Rory took his leave.

Once the door was firmly closed, the three let their laughter roll forth.

"You had him scared, darling," Shad said admiringly.

"You did," Elise agreed. "I thought he was going to admit that he didn't know how to tell when st.i.tches should be removed."

"I doubt he does," Shad said, somewhat more soberly. "His position is purely hereditary and I think he has taken advantage of the fact that neither my grandfather in his elder years nor my cousin Valora in her younger ever put themselves in direct danger of injury in battle to avoid learning a surgeon's skills. He has drawn a stipend from the court for feeling the wrists of the queen and her husband a few times a year and praising them (and by inference himself) for their remarkable good health."

"How," Elise asked, "did his family ever get the position if they have no interest in the healing arts?"

Shad sighed. "You must have noticed that the court of Bright Bay is far more enamored of t.i.tles than is your homeland."

Elise nodded. Queen Zorana, the founder of Hawk Haven, had been so adverse to t.i.tles that she had restricted them, by law, to the barest minimum. Superficially, Bright Bay had appeared to do the same, but during Elise's sojourn in the castle at Silver Whale Cove she had seen that this was not the case.

"I did notice," she said, trying to stay polite though she had inherited a prejudice against such "unzoranic nonsense," as King Tedric called such t.i.tles. "I've met the Warmer of the Shoes, the Keeper of the Keys, and the Holder of the Chalice, along with a few others that escape me now."

"Those type of t.i.tles started with King Gustin I," Shad explained. "He was torn between wanting to be able to claim-as your Queen Zorana did-that our kingdom was starting afresh after Old Country domination. At the same time, I think he was more vain than she was."

"Differently vain," Sapphire said with what Elise thought amazing fairness given that her cousin had usually wanted herself and whatever she could claim as her own to be the unquestioned first and best. "Fromwhat I've heard, Queen Zorana had her share of vanity as well."

"Whatever the case," Shad said, acknowledging the interruption with an affectionate smile, "Gustin Sailor decided that he could have it both ways. He simplified the landholder t.i.tles in a way not all that different from Queen Zorana, but he also added a slew of new t.i.tles. Some of these he granted to himself, like Protector of the Weak-which he claimed was forced on him by some of the common folk. Other t.i.tles were given to those who had served him particularly well."

"Like knighthoods in Hawk Haven?" Elise said.

"Pretty much," Shad agreed, "but the difference was that while your knighthoods are nonhereditary, lots of the t.i.tles that Gustin I invented were hereditary. Apparently, Lord Rory's grandsire, the first Royal Physician, had the healing talent, just as Sir Jared does. The talent, however, did not pa.s.s to his children; nor, apparently, has it pa.s.sed to his grandchildren. To make matters worse, even if it had, the t.i.tle was worded in such a fashion so that it pa.s.sed to the original man's heir, not to a logical successor. So even if there had been a member of the family with the talent-I think there was a niece who would have been better qualified than his heir was-the t.i.tle bypa.s.sed the person with it and was handed down as if it was a sack of gold coins."

"That doesn't seem very smart," Elise said, trying to be polite, "but I guess it wasn't that different from what King Chalmer did when he gave the Great Houses their emblems and names."