Kings of the North - Elizabeth Moon [96]
“Embarrassment?” How could this pretty child be an embarrassment?
“I am … not ladylike enough. I like riding—in trousers—and working in the stable, and I made my brothers teach me swordplay. When I was younger I wanted to be a soldier, but I knew that could not be, so then I wanted to be a horse-breeder.” She said that fiercely.
Kieri looked at her in astonishment. She had color in her cheeks now, and her pale eyes sparkled. She reminded him of all the eager young recruits he’d had, male and female alike.
“Or I could be one of your Squires,” she said, looking up at his face. “I would work hard, I promise.”
“And what would your father say, if you were a King’s Squire and not a queen?”
She turned white again in an instant.
“I’m sorry,” Kieri said quickly. “I did not mean to frighten you.”
“It is not you.” She pinched her nose hard; the tears that were in her eyes did not brim over. “I can’t tell—”
Years of experience with frightened young people came to Kieri’s aid. “Yes, you can tell me. Do it now.”
“He wants me to kill you,” she blurted out.
“Who? Your father?”
She nodded. “They told me—on the boat—if—when—we married—she would give me a knife with poison to stab you—and then—if I killed you and got away, my father would give me the land he promised.”
So his thought of possible assassination hadn’t been nonsense, after all.
“I don’t want to kill you,” she said in a small voice.
“I’m glad of that,” Kieri said. “What do you want?”
“I want to kill—” She stopped herself, then went on. “No, but I do want—the life I always wanted. Oh, please, Sir King, let me stay here! I’ll do anything—cut my hair, work in the stables—” She went down on her knees; Kieri pulled her back up.
“Don’t do that. Your guardians.”
Tears welled up in her eyes, but she pinched her nose again. She was younger than the flowers in the garden, he thought. And yet—something in her held more than mere naive youthfulness, mere rebellion. She had been kidnapped and taken where she did not want to go, but she had refused to do evil. That he could respect.
“Tell me of Ganlin,” he said. “How do you know her?”
“We visit Kostandan every year or so,” she said. “My stepmother and Hanlin and I. We became friends—we both love riding and being outside and hate embroidery and tatting and women’s gossip. We swore eternal friendship—we made a blood-bond and traded locks of hair. She knew I was going to have my own farm—my father had said so—and she was going to run away and join me. We were never going to marry.”
Kieri clamped his lips against a smile that would have insulted her. How likely was it, after all, that two princesses would really set up a horse farm and spend their days mucking stalls and cleaning hooves?
“And if one of you fell in love and wanted to marry?”
Elis looked at him. “With the men I knew in Pargun? Never. And Ganlin feels the same, I know.”
Kieri had his doubts. Elis had never given anyone a flirtatious look, but even at that first banquet, Kieri had noticed Ganlin watching one after another of the young men in the room. One of Ganlin’s attendant Squires reported that Ganlin had asked repeatedly after Berne. Elis had better find another partner. With that thought, he had an idea.
“Elis, it’s possible I can help you, but you will need to be discreet. It cannot be done in a day—”
“You will let me be a Squire? You will send my guardians away?”
“Do you know the Knights of Falk?” he asked.
She frowned. “No …”
“The Falkians train both men and women of noble birth to be knights; some then become soldiers—one of my captains was a Knight of Falk, and I trained there myself. My Squires are all Knights. You would have the best training in all kinds of weapons, in management of military units.”
She was glowing again, thinking of it. “Is it possible? Please!”
“If I spoke to your guardians, what would they say?”
“They would refuse,” Elis said, “and then punish me for having let you know I wanted it.”
“Then we must plot in secret. And that means, Elis, you must be like a soldier in enemy territory, pretending