Fortune's Fool - Mercedes Lackey [129]
The caravan however, despite its relatively sober colors of dusty-blue and midnight, was in excellent repair and condition. The woman driving it—
—was certainly no gypsy. Her coloring was wrong for one thing; she was tiny, and blond rather than dark of hair and eye. And very few gypsies could have afforded her clothing; blue, high-heeled boots of the finest leather, full, calf-length skirt of heavy silk twill, wide belt that matched the boots and laced up the front, and a pristine high-necked white silk blouse, heavy with embroidery down the arms and around the high collar.
“Are we there yet?” called a voice from inside the caravan, mockingly.
“You know, I could turn this caravan right around—” she said, laughing.
“Bah, you wouldn’t do that, your father would have us ambushed at the first river crossing and hauled into his presence.” Sasha stuck his head out through the curtains at the front of the caravan. “Ah, we are there yet!”
Katya ruffled his hair. “You know, you could have been the one driving. Then you wouldn’t have had to keep asking.”
“So you could lounge back there like an odalisque in splendid isolation? I think not!”
“Or you could have sat up here with me.”
“But then I couldn’t keep asking ‘are we there yet?’” His eyes sparkled with laughter, then he turned to examine the lake and the Castle. “Well, hard to believe all this went up in a year.”
She shrugged. “When you have that many magicians available to make things happen, that many magical workers, and that much magic that The Tradition is throwing at a place to erase the last little thought of something like a Jinn, things tend to happen quickly. Castle first, or Father?”
“Castle.” He sighed. “While this arrangement of splitting our services between your father and mine is an excellent idea, I must admit I am not looking forward to a year of eating seaweed balls and raw fish.”
“It isn’t all seaweed balls and raw fish,” she replied, then reached behind his head and pulled him to her to kiss him. The horses continued to plod along, not needing her hand on the reins, which was just as well anyway. “Besides,” she murmured into his ear. “Remember how you liked the honeymoon underwater?”
“Hmm.” He chuckled.
Katya had very fond memories of all of the ways that being buoyant improved lovemaking, and from the state of things, so did he.
“All right then.”
“Horses,” he murmured. “Drive now, canoodle later. Ditch bad, bed good.”
“I hear and obey, master.” She turned her attention back to the horses and the road, just in time to prevent them from going down the road to the gypsy camp and sending them across the causeway to the Castle.
They had sent word days ago via the paper bird that they were on the way, and Klava must have had people watching from a tower for their coming. The horses had barely stopped moving when there was a groom at their head to take them and the caravan off to the stables, and Klava herself came flying down the stairs to catch Katya up in an exuberant embrace. Only after she had hugged Katya and kissed Sasha, was Katya able to take a look at her outfit.
It was a confection in scarlet; panniered overskirt, brocaded underskirt, low-cut bodice, puffed half sleeves reaching to the elbow, with her hair put up and a wide scarlet ribbon with a bow at the back around her neck. Scarlet lace everywhere it was logical to put lace. “Well! I see we have chosen a theme, finally!” Katya remarked, eyes sparkling with laughter, since the last time she had heard from Klava, the latter had been unable to settle on a Fairy name.
“Cardinal Fairy. There is a lovely vine called Cardinal Climber, as it happens, and I love red,” Klava replied, dimpling.
“And a good thing you do, too,” Sasha chuckled. “Well, there will be no mistaking you for your mentor, for certain!”
“Godmother Elena the Lilac Fairy? They’d have to be blind.” Klava laughed at that. “Not even at