"That usually means nothing," Ramil advised. "Not that they aren't deserved," he added hastily.
"Don't you start!" Tashi laughed. "But the thing that worries me most are his kisses."
"Kisses!" Ramil jumped up and strode to the other side of the room.
Tashi frowned. "Is that very shocking? I thought it might be but I wasn't sure."
"What kind of kisses?" Ramil sounded as if someone was strangling him.
"Oh, just light ones on my hands and neck a couple of times, once on my lips."
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"And did you kiss him back?"
"Ram! Of course I didn't! What do you take me for? I just wasn't sure what was allowed and
what wasn't. He always does it in a very respectful way."
"It's never respectful to kiss a girl on the lips, Tashi," Ramil warned her.
"He's taking advantage of your ignorance."
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Tashi bit her lip. "Oh."
"But if you like him, my pretty, it is not wrong to kiss," Gordoc said fairly, stretching out on the cushions with a reminiscent smile.
"It would be very wrong back at home. We never touch our admirers and only accept poems and
paper flowers," Tashi told him.
"Kissing is nice. It's fun," Gordoc continued. "But you must not let him do any more unless you want to bed him."
"Gordoc!" Tashi was now blushing bright red, as was Ramil. "I didn't come here for that kind of advice."
Gordoc looked confused. He propped himself up on his elbow. "Where I come from, Tashi, men
and women bed each other first, then wed when they have children. No one wants a barren
wife. Merl may wish to find this out."
Tashi got up. "I'm not. . . that wasn't what I meant." She got up, fastening her cloak with clumsy fingers. "Forget I asked."
She limped out quickly. Gordoc raised an eyebrow at Ramil who was still standing on the other
side of the tent.
"Did I say something wrong?" he asked.
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Chapter 12
Lady Egret, a Brigardian noble in exile, begged an interview with King Lagan three weeks after
Midwinter.
"Must I see her?" he asked Lord Taris with a groan, clearing a space on his desk for a new file of army reports.
"If it was any other Brigardian I would say no," replied the Prime Minister,
"but Lady Egret is not one of the troublesome ones and has more sense in her little finger than
most of them do in the whole of their bodies."
"I could do with some sense myself," mused the King. "We're facing an invincible army and an impossible fight and stil I have absolutely no intention of surrendering. All right, send her in."
King Lagan rose to greet the tiny elderly noble who entered supporting herself on an ebony
walking stick.
"Lady Egret, it is a pleasure to see you," he said in a kindly tone, directing her to a chair. "How can I help you?"
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The old lady settled her black shawls comfortably and handed her stick to Lord Taris.
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"I have a confession to make, Your Majesty," she said briskly.
"Oh?" King Lagan smiled. He could not imagine this grandmotherly person having anything very shocking to say.
"Yes, and you will not be pleased with me. It is time I outed myself as a spy."
"A spy?" exclaimed Lord Taris. "For who?"
"For whom, dear, whom," she corrected him. "For the resistance movement in Brigard, of
course."
King Lagan relaxed. The resistance movement was no threat to Gerfal and he doubted very
much she had been in a position to pass them any vital information.
"I'm afraid I've kept them abreast of all council deliberations thanks to my sources in the
palace," she continued, oblivious to the reactions her words were causing in her two listeners.
"That, of course, will cease from this moment. I hope from now on our cooperation will be frank
and aboveboard, particularly when I give you this." She handed over a letter. "I received it this morning and only just decoded it."
Lagan took the paper in trembling fingers. "It's from Ramil," he said hoarsely, reading it through quickly. "He's escaped--as has the Princess--by Thorsin, I knew he had it in him!" He scanned it all the way to the bottom, absorbing the request for assistance for Duke Nerul. Overcome with
joy and relief, he knelt,
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seized the old lady's hand and kissed it fervently. "Lady Egret, you are a jewel."
She smiled fondly at him and tapped his head with her finger. "Tush, tush, Your Majesty, you'll
turn this poor woman's head if you go on in that fashion.
Your boy's well, that's the main thing. He and the lass have given Fergox something to cry about,
stealing his horse and everything." She chuckled.
"The girl's sent a message to her people too. I will deliver it immediately."
She cocked a quizzical eyebrow. "That's if you are not going to arrest me as a spy?"
"Arrest you, my dear lady? I want to marry you for bringing me that news!"
"Sorry, Your Majesty, but Lord Egret wouldn't be pleased if you did that."
Smiling, she rose and walked out, her stick clicking on the marble tiles.
Lord Taris had now read the letter through.
"I take it, Your Majesty, we intend to help the resistance?" he asked.
"Absolutely, we are fighting the same war after all." Lagan smiled and stretched his arms, feeling one of his heaviest burdens had fallen from his shoulders. He no longer had to tiptoe around
Fergox in fear of reprisals on his son. They now had a straight fight before them. Lagan rubbed
his hands together, beginning to see all sorts of possibilities with Nerul's men behind enemy
lines. "Find out what we can do, will you? Ramil mentions arms and support from the sea."
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"We could do with Blue Crescent aid for this, sir,"
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Taris said. "I wonder what Princess Taoshira has written in her communication."
"We should've asked the old girl. Track her down and see if she is at liberty to tell us, will you?
At the very least, I hope it means I will get my Briony back again. I know, I'll hold a party for her--
and take her on a pony ride--I think that will be quite in order, if I can be spared from my official
duties for the afternoon."
"You're the King," Taris reminded him with a smile.
"But you're my conscience, Taris, you know that."
"Then your conscience says we should keep his highness's current location secret, but an
announcement of his escape is most desirable. Therefore, a party is quite in order--if not
essential--for the morale of the nation."
"Excellent. I really should promote you, old friend. Only trouble is, there's nowhere to go but
down from your office."
"I am well aware of that, Your Majesty."
Lord Taris bowed and went out to spread the good news in the court.
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The wagon train was making heavy going of the road from Tigral to the furthest corner of
Fergox's empire where his armies were massing. The winter weather was no help, and the
soldiers had experienced endless trouble: broken bridges, badly signposted crossroads,
unexplained
diversions, poor workmanship from farriers, causing the cart horses to shed their shoes a mile
down
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the road. Anyone would think that the people of Brigard were trying to impede the work of the
army. Surely they hadn't forgotten so quickly the war that had crushed them and the bloody