Kings of the North - Elizabeth Moon [129]
“So something happened … something or someone changed your heart, your mind … when did it start, can you think?”
Aliam shook his head. “Before you came—last winter. Maybe it was just the long winter closing in … not enough to do … brooding indoors … and then after your coronation, when we came back here … I thought it was the summer heat …”
“Nothing to make you think one of the evil gods might have laid a curse on you?”
“Not since Paks left to find you.”
“What?”
“The night before she left. The … um … Lady had been here.” Aliam looked startled suddenly. “I haven’t—we couldn’t say it—but I suppose I can to you, as you’re her grandson …”
Kieri waited as patiently as he could.
“The Lady came to talk to Paks; the elves did not at first think you were fit to be king, as you know. Paks insisted; the Lady agreed that at least you should have the chance to prove yourself. Then the Lady locked our tongues about her visit; only Estil and I remember it, and we cannot speak of it.”
The elves had opposed his kingship? For a moment Kieri’s mind veered to that, but then he pulled his attention back to the immediate problem.
“What exactly happened the night before Paks left?”
“Achrya came. The Webspinner. To attack Paks, but she spun webs throughout the house. Paks routed her; we cleared the webs, and then Paks left. We’ve seen nought but ordinary little spiders since, and no harm in them.”
“Maybe,” Kieri said. “But I suspect she used some other bane to cloud your mind.” He looked around at the garden walls, his gaze caught by movement, a flake of stone perhaps, breaking off and falling to the ground behind the peach trained on the wall. “Come with me,” he said, drawing Aliam closer once more and laying an arm across his shoulders.
Outside the walled garden, his Squires waited.
“Sir King,” Arian said. “By your leave, I must speak.” He nodded, then stepped away from Aliam. She spoke quietly. “My lord, there is a daskdraudigs …” Kieri raised his eyebrows. “A rock serpent,” Arian explained. “Evil invading rock—it comes alive. We must get them out at once, and call rangers. I have only one daskin arrow, and none of the other Squires have any; it is not enough.”
He remembered now: Paks had mentioned a daskdraudigs, but he’d been more interested in her healing than what had come before. “Aliam,” Kieri said, as casually as he could. “Would one of your people know where the nearest forest rangers might be?”
“They have a camp at a spring about a half-day’s walk sunward,” Aliam said. “The children love to ride out there to escape their chores; we know they’re safe, if they overnight with the rangers.”
“Send one of your people, then, and ask them to come here quickly.”
“A problem?” Aliam asked, looking worried.
“Yes.” Kieri tried to keep his voice light.
Across the courtyard, a girl perhaps shoulder-high led a bay horse from the stable; she wore riding gear and had a long green feather in her cap. “Estilla!” Aliam called.
“Granfer?”
“What do you ride for?”
She turned red. “Um … sir … to … exercise Bayberry …”
“Exercise him to the ranger camp, then, and ask them to come here. The king wishes to speak to them.”
A smile broke out on her face. “Yes, Granfer! At once!” She mounted and reined the horse toward the gate.
“Quickly, Estilla!” Aliam called.
No answer but the horse leaping into a gallop, and the beat of its hooves on the turf outside, rapidly diminishing.
“We call her little Estil,” Aliam said, as if that weren’t obvious. “She’s actually named for her mother’s mother, as is proper, but she’s exactly like Estil at the same age. Even her mother’s mother calls her Estilla.”
Cal Halveric came out of the stable. “Father? Is there trouble?”
Kieri spoke before Aliam could. “I feel something wrong with the taig, Cal. I want the rangers’ help in understanding what it is.”