Fire Dragon - Katharine Kerr [166]
“Gladly, but do we really have to let her escape?”
“Who said anything about letting her run free? I'm thinking up a plan. But if you're here, Raena will be too frightened to walk into the trap.”
“Very well then.” Arzosah yawned with a shake of her head. “You do the thinking. I'm going to get a good night's sleep.”
• • •
For most of the night Verrarc lay awake, alone in the bed he'd grown used to sharing. His mind raced this way and that like a panicked animal, first cursing him for losing Raena, next exulting that she was gone, then worrying about the Horsekin, wondering why he would trust Dallandra and this Rhodry from Aberwyn, and then once again giving in to his grief at losing the only woman he'd ever loved. Finally he did sleep, only to wake when Korla came rushing into a bedchamber bright with sun.
“The Chief Speaker be here, master. It be a good while past dawn.”
“Ye gods! Do him tell that I wake and will join him presently. Oh, and tender him my apology for being so lax.”
On every day of Deciding, the town council went up to the plaza early to set up the wood booths that would each enclose a set of colored jugs. Near the well stood the big plank table for the stone markers. For this particular election, those citizens who wanted an alliance with Prince Daralanteriel and the Gel da'Thae would put black markers into a black pot. Those who wished to ally with the Horsekin would put red in red, and those who wished no alliance at all, white in white.
Verrarc arrived just as Sergeant Gart came puffing up the path with the militia marching behind him. Ten men would stand behind the table to ensure that the voting proceeded honestly. Other squads would dispose themselves around the plaza, just in case there was trouble, as Sergeant Gart remarked.
“A good thought, Sergeant,” Verrarc said. “The whole town's on edge.”
Admi himself stood off to one side talking with Zatcheka, who had come to witness the Deciding. She was wearing her long deerskin dress and a tall headdress made of cloth-of-gold, wrapped round itself and piled high. Jewelled stickpins flashed here and there in the folds. Two of her men, armed with solid quarterstaves, stood guard behind her. Verrarc was about to join Admi when he saw the prince of the Westfolk coming with an escort of his own. Against the folds of his grey tunic the sapphire pendant gleamed. Behind his men walked Niffa, Dallandra, and the princess, carrying her baby. Bringing up the rear as a last guard was Rhodry from Aberwyn. Verrarc hurried over and bowed to the prince.
“Good morrow,” he said. “I see Niffa told you of our custom.”
“So she did,” Daralanteriel said. “So I've come to witness, as she suggested. I hope you don't mind my wife coming along. She wanted to see the workings of your Deciding.”
“Of course, of course, you're all welcome,” Verrarc said. “No doubt Niffa did tell you, though, that you mayn't speak to the citizens as they make their choices.”
“She did, and we'll abide by that.” Dar paused, glancing around. “Carra, will you be all right? The day's turning out hot, clouds or no.”
“The Council House does stand over yonder,” Verrarc put in. “Do avail yourself of it should you wish.”
“We could take the baby inside for a bit,” Carra said to Niffa. “Not much is happening yet.”
“We've yet to send out the criers,” Verrarc said. “Here be the customs which do rule a Deciding. The Council of Five does prepare all that you see before you. Then do we send out four criers to the town below, to remind all that on a day such as this no one may lift a hand to do any other citizen harm. It be needful for a Deciding to be free of all strife, for who would choose cleanly if he did think himself in danger for it?”
“True spoken.” Dar nodded in agreement. “That strikes me as a fine custom.”
Talking together, Niffa and Carra took the baby and strolled away in the general direction of the Council House. Verrarc glanced at Rhodry, who had been listening