The Kingless Land - Ed Greenwood [153]
The herald's face went scarlet. "I-ah-sir! Goodman Sarasper! The king calls you to court!"
The old man turned around again, a certain sharpness around his eyes. "Old I may be, but there's as yet-thank the Three-nothing whatsoever wrong with my ears. I heard you, and I hear you now. You have done your office-and have my leave to depart. Or are you too young to heed hints, yet?"
The air in front of Sarasper shimmered, barring the old man's way back into the Silent House. The emptiness blossomed with many winking lights, fading and falling like tiny stars as they shaped a tall, slender figure clad all in black, sleek shoulders and a glistening fall of silver-mounted jewels, and…
The herald sat in his saddle gaping openmouthed as the air gave forth the Lady of Jewels, standing in the old healer's way and smiling faintly. She lifted her eyes to the herald, gave him a smile, and then pointed him firmly back the way he'd come.
Without another word, he bowed his head, turned his horse, and went. It is not the business of heralds-even Voices of the Risen King-to argue with sorceresses cloaked in all their power.
"Embra," the healer growled, squinting at her with more eagerness and favor than he allowed his voice to tell the world he felt, "are you as reluctant to stand before the River Throne as I am?"
"Of course," the head of House Silvertree replied. "Which is why we're going there together-each one dragging the other along. I don't want to be the Baroness Silvertree, trusted by none, and be named a traitor whenever my father and his mages reappear. Barons and tersepts in plenty are just itching to ride here and settle their grudges against anyone wearing the name of Silvertree… and they'll use swords to do it."
She smiled affectionately at the old man, tousled his hair with her spread fingers, and asked, "And why are you so reluctant to answer the royal summons?"
Sarasper gave her a dark look. "Too many soldiers for my liking. Most barons want a healer in chains, as their own hidden healing machine-perhaps this king does, too."
The Lady Silvertree pursed her lips and nodded her head slowly. "I don't think he's that way, but I see your peril… who's to know until it's too late?"
Sarasper nodded gloomily and clapped a hand against one vine-cloaked wall of the Silent House. "Here, at least, I have passages to hide in and dark places to run to," he growled. "Over yon…"
He jerked his head toward the river, and the island there. Castle Silvertree it had been, all his life, but Flowfoam Isle it had been when there was a king in Aglirta before, and Flowfoam Isle it was again now. The Risen King's court. Aglimmer with a hundred lamps at dusk every night, and the Silverflow busy with boats at all hours. Sarasper shrugged to show Embra what little he thought of his chances of escaping it, if King Snowstar should desire him to remain-and she nodded soberly.
"Where have you dwelt, this month and more?" he asked suddenly. "Is there aught left of your own castle, 'tother end of the isle? Or were you judged too dangerous to be that near his High Mightiness?"
Embra's face split into a sudden smile. "There are lodges here and there among the gardens; I've been quite happy to move into one of the smallest and most secluded. As to the court-yes, it was amazing how many righteous lordlings rose up out of nowhere to demand me out of my lands and away."
She leaned against a mossy headstone of some long-forgotten ancestor and added serenely, "I told them all to go and talk to the king-and warned them that if anything befell me, the walking statues would awaken and tear apart the entire isle, themselves, king, and all, and there'd be no one alive to stop them."
Sarasper's dry laugh turned into a wheeze, and worse. He was still coughing, face in a rueful smile and leaning on the wall for support, when an all-too-familiar voice asked, "Is this a private moment of passion? Or may I have the next dance?"
"Craer!" Embra cried, only a breath or two behind Sarasper's croak of "Little thief!