A Rose Point Holiday Page 13

  Hirianthial’s mouth was twitching. “Later for you,” she told him, low. To the priests, “Are we interrupting anything?”

  “Not at all!” Urise said, beaming. “We were just discussing the mysteries.”

  “I… shouldn’t be here, should I.”

  “No, Lady,” Shoran hastened to say. “We were doing nothing formal.”

  “We haven’t been able to talk to any priests in a long time,” Talthien said. Thought better of that and said, “Well, Shoran hasn’t. I’ve never talked to a priest in my life.”

  “Long past time,” Shoran said. “A temple should have both priest and priestess. And you have brought us three, Lady!”

  “More or less,” Reese said, stepping aside so Hirianthial could guide the horses past her. “Though I don’t know how much time Val will be spending with us, given his position.”

  Val snorted. “I’d rather be here than somewhere else.”

  “Even two priests,” Shoran said firmly, standing to take Penny from Hirianthial’s care. “Talthien, help please.” As the boy sprang up, he continued, “It is good to hear the words from an elder. And to see that there are good men in training yet.”

  “I promise we’ll get the chapel full staffing,” Reese said. “Meanwhile, I have a message for you to take down to the village.”

  Both Shoran and Talthien looked at her at that.

  “There’s a storm coming,” Reese continued. “It’ll probably blow over in a day, but it’s going to get cold later. High winds, too, probably. You should tell everyone to get ready.”

  “I’ll go!” Talthien exclaimed. “The dapple wants a run. I’ll take her.”

  Shoran eyed him. “And what makes you believe I’ll let you carry such a message?”

  “Because you’re the one who’s best with the beasts!” Talthien was already going for a saddle. “Who’ll stay with them through the storm if not you?”

  That gave his elder pause. Reese watched the byplay, wondering at the subtext. Catching Hirianthial’s eye, she asked a silent question; he canted his head so slightly she might have missed it had his much shorter hair not swung out from his jaw. So, he’d noticed it too. How best to shore up the situation when she wasn’t totally sure of the currents?

  When in doubt, trust. Wasn’t that what her crew had finally taught her? And she had to start with herself, and her own instincts. “You’re the son of the seal’s servants,” Reese said to Talthien. “I think warning people of danger is your duty, anyway. Particularly since Shoran really is better with the animals.”

  The two glanced at one another and this time they were both caught off-guard. She hid her grin.

  Shoran recovered first. “Very well. But help me with the lord and lady’s steeds first. You know better than to go tacking up some new beast before the others are settled. Unless the errand is urgent, Lady?” He looked at Reese.

  “No. You’ve got time.”

  Nevertheless, the two finished the chore far faster than she would have. When Talthien led the gray mare out of the stable, Reese strolled after him and watched him swing himself into the saddle. He went up like the knowledge was genetic even though he couldn’t have had more practice than her since the only horse in the village had died before he was born. It worried her enough that she broke character and said, “You know how to ride that thing at a gallop, right? It’s hard enough to stay balanced at a trot!”

  He grinned at her. “Never fear, lady. I have been practicing with the horses you graciously lent us. And I rode the postpony religiously from the day I got my first.” He gathered the reins up and said, his manner more stilted, “Thank you. For this errand.”

  “You’re the right man for the job,” she said, and from the way his shoulders squared she’d gotten that part right. Maybe that had earned her enough capital for a question? Nothing to lose by trying, particularly with the youth... he’d been the most flexible of the bunch so far. “So what was the real reason you wanted Shoran to stay?”

  “You noticed?”

  “I think everyone noticed,” Reese said. “I’m betting the only reason he didn’t fight you about it was that he didn’t think I saw what you were doing. So what am I not supposed to know?”

  Talthien grimaced. “He’s not old, Mistress. Not at all. But he gets pain in his joints, and it’s much worse in the cold. Your stable is warmer than any of our houses.”

  Something Hirianthial could fix? It would have been an easy problem to deal with for human or Pelted patients. But who knew with Eldritch biology? “I get it. Good thinking, then.” She smiled. “He must like you to let you boss him around like that.”

  “Oh, no! He almost never allows me to be impudent!” Talthien said. “But I think he liked what you said. About me having a duty.” He tilted his head, an uncanny mimicry of Hirianthial’s gesture earlier. “You meant it? Will I train one day to guard you and your heirs?”

  “Talthien,” Reese said, “I wouldn’t have arranged for your dogs otherwise.” She patted the horse on the neck and stepped away. “Now go, and don’t break your neck. There’s a transceiver in the saddlepad and a different one in the horse. If we start getting suspicious data, we’ll come find you.”

  “God and Lady!” Talthien said. “You won’t have to, I pledge it! And I will tell you myself when I arrive.”

  “Those transceivers don’t let you talk, you know.”

  “But the data tablet you left with us will!” And with a triumphant grin, he said, “I go, Mistress!”

  And he did, leaving her staring... and not just because he’d apparently been hard at work picking up the technology she had been praying his elders would use. The boy really could ride a running horse. How the hell did he do that? Why had he picked up in a few days what she was still struggling to learn?

  Then again, she remembered being a lot stronger and more supple in her teens, too. And a lot more headstrong. She prayed he didn’t do anything stupid, or that she hadn’t by sending him, and made a note to double-check the transceivers in a few hours. Wandering back into the stable, she asked, “What’s a postpony?”

  All five Eldritch men looked at her. Hirianthial chuckled. “A postpony. You might call it a rocking horse?”

  “Except they aren’t on runners,” Val said, grinning. “You mount them on springs.”

  “If you’re fortunate, you get one every year as a toy, so that it’s the right size to challenge you as you grow,” Belinor said. And hastened, “Mind you, it is a toy for those without the expectation of real horses. Men with titles must learn to ride from the time they are old enough to walk.”

  “Real horses are safer,” Hirianthial said, wry.

  Reese looked at Shoran, who said, “He has a talent. He will need it, if he is to serve his duty.”

  “Mmm,” Reese said. “Well, then, I gave the right jobs to the right people. And that means I’m going to leave you to these horses, Shoran-alet—and the discussion of the Mysteries—while I see Hirianthial off.” She lifted a finger at Val. “Don’t say it.”

  “I haven’t even opened my mouth!”

  “I know,” Reese said. “But knowing you, you were about to.”

  Val’s mouth twisted but he managed a straight face. “Enjoy your… seeing off, Lady Eddings.” As she turned, he finished, “All the priests are here rather than in the chapel. I know you’ve realized this small fact but I thought you might appreciate having your attention called to it.”

  She paused, then grinned. “Okay. Maybe I’ll change my mind about letting you talk.”

  “I wouldn’t,” Belinor muttered.

  Hirianthial laughed and pushed open the door. “Go, Lady. Before they keep us.”

  The chapel was, indeed, empty. It smelled like storm winds blowing, and winter roses. She and Hirianthial, on the other hand, smelled like horses. Reese didn’t mind. Or, after a little bit, notice.

  Reese had grown up on a planet, but Mars’s domes supported an atmosphere as artificial and stable as the Earthrise’s.
Given that, she’d expected the storm to disturb her for longer than the twenty minutes it took for her to stop noticing anything but the most sustained of gusts. The thickness of the castle walls muffled the noise until it became a vague reminder that she was safely insulated from the severity of the weather. It was actually kind of… cozy. She understood now why people liked to curl up with blankets and read books during bad weather. In fact, after spending a fruitless hour at her office trying to catch up with paperwork, that’s just what she did. The room they’d used for the Vigil was still decorated, and she had no trouble with the fireplace since the Tam-illee had long since swept through Rose Point and added burners everywhere they found a flue. With an old, familiar blanket stolen from her hammock and Allacazam in her lap, plus a big mug of hot chocolate snitched from a genie—there were compensations to being in charge—she settled in the rocking chair with her data tablet.

  It had been a long time since she’d been able to relax and read one of her romances. She’d been half-afraid that living through a romance to shame a bestselling author would make her too critical to enjoy them, but, no… it turned out that being in love made her even more engaged with the subject matter. She cheered for the protagonists, empathized painfully with their communication failures and angsts, and sighed in satisfaction at the rapprochements. The only parts she found more difficult to read were the bedroom scenes, because now they made her mind wander.

  There were far worse problems to have.

  So it was a pleasant evening. Talthien used the data tablet to assure her that he’d reached the village safely, so she didn’t have to worry about him needing rescue. The rest of her crew was snugged up somewhere in the castle; Hirianthial was at Ontine, where the weather was fine. For once, no one needed her attention. She read until her eyes blurred, sipping the rich chocolate while Allacazam burbled his inebriated firelight dreams in her lap. The wind seemed very far away, and even though the shutters gave the occasional creak she felt safe enough to start drifting to sleep in the chair.

  She thought of her tenants, and hoped they’d managed, and tried not to wish she could don shining armor and ride in on Penny’s back to fix everything. She knew better than to think that ever worked. Besides, knowing her riding skill she’d probably fall off… and then she’d really catch it from Hirianthial. She could almost hear his voice: ‘It was not enough to require a new esophagus. You had to apply to me for a new head as well?’

  Reese fell asleep, cheeks mounded up in a smile.

  CHAPTER 8

  The morning revealed a world gone raw with melting frost. The wind had scoured the earth, exposing its layers in wet, dark streaks and littering everything with broken vines and branches; on the seaward side of the castle the walls were spattered with either sand or salt or both. The sky seemed very far away, its tall bowl filled with torn clouds that were moving fast on a steady breeze. It smelled good, oddly: clean and clear. But the moist cold made her throat and chest hurt and seeped past all the layers of clothing she put on.

  “Could have been worse,” Bryer opined when he found her in the courtyard.

  Joining them, Taylor said, “Much worse. A sustained storm might have delayed construction significantly. Or even damaged the property.”

  “I don’t know, the mess looks bad enough to me.”

  Taylor surveyed their surroundings. It was cold enough to have induced her to wear something over her vulpine ears, which on a Tam-illee meant wool-lined cones in bright red and orange, topped with pompoms. They were the brightest colors in sight with the world gone gray and sullen and damp. “It’ll be a pain to clean up, but things could be worse.” She shook out her shoulders. “I’ll go get some people on that, in fact.”

  “Thanks, alet.”

  It was morning, and with no emergency waiting for her, that meant lessons with Terry. Reese went obediently to the stable and found Penny already tacked up and waiting for her.

  Shoran was too. Reese wondered where he’d slept—in an empty stall? And on what? She couldn’t imagine what the conditions were in the houses in the village to make him so bright-eyed and limber after sleeping on a hay bale in a stable. But he showed no signs of dismay or pain, and at the sight of her he bowed and exclaimed, “My lady! These horses! They are extraordinary!”

  On the other side of her mare, Terry flashed her an amused look.

  “I guess they came through the storm all right?”

  “Without even a flinch,” Shoran assured her. “And this stable! I have never seen its like. It is a facility fit for a Queen’s herd.”

  “Appropriate, I guess, since Liolesa’s the one who charged me with breeding her horses for her,” Reese said. The awe in the man’s eyes prompted her to say, mischievous, “I don’t suppose you think any of the ones we’ve bought so far would suit her?”

  “Suit… suit the Queen, Mistress?” Shoran stammered.

  Reese pursed her lips. “You’re right. One horse is probably not enough. She needs three or four, doesn’t she? Something for parades, something for casual riding, something for war maneuvers….”

  “Is she planning any war maneuvers anytime soon?” Terry asked, ears flattening.

  “I hope not,” Reese said. “But knowing her, I wouldn’t make any bets either way. She has contingency plans for her contingency plans.”

  The wonder on Shoran’s face was almost funny. Almost. Reese said to him, “It’s not urgent! We have time. And thanks for taking such good care of the horses during the storm.”

  “Mistress. It was my duty and I was honored to perform it.”

  Another bow. Reese accepted it and let Terry lead her out of the stable. Once they were out of earshot, the Tam-illee said, “He wasn’t quite sure what to make of me, you know.”

  “I bet. Did you change his mind?”

  “I didn’t,” Terry said. “Everything else did.” When Reese glanced down at him, the tod chuckled. “Horses in the Alliance are luxury items, alet. The only people who keep them in the Core are wealthy, and rich people don’t like mess or chores. The hay was amazing enough to someone who’s never seen it baled, much less so much of it in one place. But the stalls not getting dirty? When I showed him how that worked, he got very quiet.”

  “Bad quiet?” Reese wondered.

  “No,” Terry said, grinning. “The ‘dreaming of the implications’ quiet.”

  Reese laughed. “Okay, yeah, I can see it.” She tilted her head. “How does that work?”

  “Self-cleaning stalls?” Terry shrugged. “It’s not a big stretch. If you’re rich. A computer to decide what to leave and what to reduce, a specialized grid…”

  “Blood, am I rich? Because that sounds like a lot of trouble for horses when we don’t even have gem grids for the entire castle…!”

  Terry laughed. “It’s nowhere near as complicated as a gem grid, alet, don’t worry. And honestly, you wouldn’t have been happy with the workload if we hadn’t set it up properly. Particularly since you really are breeding horses.”

  Reese chanced a look back toward the stable. “So he’s listening to you?”

  “He’s listening to me. He’s not sure what to make of me personally, but he’s accepted that as far as horses go, I’ve got some good ideas. And speaking of which… it’s time for us to work on your thighs.”

  “Do we have to?”

  Terry’s ears flicked forward and he grinned. “Your horse won’t be the only one who thanks you for your dedication.”

  Reese eyed him. “I don’t even want to know where you learned talk like that.”

  “We all want you to have a splendid wedding, no matter our species,” the Tam-illee said, amused. “So… toes up, Captain. That’s better. Now put out your arms and let’s do some balance exercises.”

  No matter how cold it was outside she was always sweaty by the time she was done with her lesson. After a rinse in the shower—thank the God and Goddess the Tam-illee had taken care of the bathrooms first—she was back in her office with Irine, goin
g through the final plans for the feast while ignoring almost everything else that needed her attention. Since all those things had needed her attention yesterday, a week ago, a month ago, she figured another few days wouldn’t hurt them. Half an hour into their meeting, her data tablet chimed with the news that the Hinichi had arrived in-system with the dogs and that meant:

  “Thank the angels!” Irine did an impromptu dance in her chair. “The food got here!”

  “Even if it hadn’t, we were planning on mostly using Liolesa’s stores,” Reese said.

  “Yes, but it doesn’t seem right to start the new year by borrowing from the old. Right? ‘Begin how you mean to go on?’”

  Impressed, Reese said, “You’ve been listening. Or eavesdropping.”

  Irine laughed. “Both? Big family, remember? You have to have sensitive ears. If you don’t know who’s fighting with who and who’s sleeping with who, you make your life a lot harder.”

  And she really was good at that kind of thing. Even on the Earthrise, she’d served unobtrusively as Reese’s right hand. Reese had never noticed it because her brother had the job that usually went with the position; Sascha’s far more commanding personality had overshadowed his sister’s less obvious contributions, which had mostly involved keeping them all from strangling one another. Flustered, Reese toyed with the fancy Eldritch pen she still thought of as more of a prop than a tool. “Irine… I gave Felith the chatelaine job. I didn’t even ask you if you wanted it. I didn’t think about the fact that you’d be good at it, and you would. If you want the job….”

  “Oh, Reese.” Irine leaned over and covered Reese’s hands with hers. “No! It’s all right. You have to have Felith in that position because it needs an Eldritch. I’m flattered that you think I’d do a good job, but I don’t need it.”

  “Are you sure?” Reese glanced at her. “I want you to know that… well, I finally see some of what you’ve been doing all along, and it’s important.”

  “And I’m going to keep doing it, title or no title,” Irine said, smiling. “Felith’s got a whole castle to handle, and all the staff. I don’t want any of that. The only person I want to fuss over is you.” She canted her head. “Well, and Sascha. And possibly Narain. And if Narain has a sister….”