The royal party? She ran out to the terrace, safely far from IceFire, and peered aloft. There they were, eighteen or twenty of them, minute specks floating in the thermal. She could see no others, apart from the solitary hunter, and he now came rushing in on the tower, still gliding on the momentum of his dive: more fine judgment! Tail spread, talons reached--and an enormous bronze was sitting motionless on the parapet, the goat dangling from his beak, fierce gold gaze studying the aerie. It was a huge bird, bigger even than IceStriker, IceFire's father.
"Turn around, featherbrain!" a male voice roared. Elosa jumped and then laughed to herself. If an expert like this talked to his bird, then she certainly could--and would do so in future. The bronze did not turn at once; he started sidling along the parapet toward IceFire, the goat swinging limply.
"Oh, cut out the flirting!" the voice said laughingly. The blinkers snapped shut, and the bronze stopped--and then turned! The rider had made a blinkered bird turn with foot signals, and she had never seen that done. The rider unbuckled, jumped down, and shackled his bird. Then he reached up and tied the reins back to the saddle, opening the blinkers. That was a calculated risk, she supposed, for the bird had its beak full, but her father would not have allowed it, and she noticed that the newcomer moved swiftly to the safety of the bars.
It was the prince! The prince himself!
Elosa's knees started to shake. He was very short, trim and moving easily, although he had probably spent a whole watch in the saddle. He pushed up his goggles and smiled across at her, but headed swiftly toward the staircase. What a wonderful smile! And what a skyman! She had heard that the prince could fly well--he would hardly have attempted this journey otherwise--but she had not been told that he was a master. She ought to be curtsying--no, dummy, bow in a flying suit--but he was obviously heading for the stairs.
Perhaps he needs a pee, she thought, and suppressed a giggle.
"Who are you?" he called.
"Er...I bring a message...Your..."
But the prince had vanished down through the floor, boots clattering on the steps.
Elosa's heart was trying to fight its way right out of her chest. To think of the crown prince in the abstract was one thing, but actually to see him was quite another, to see him as a flesh and blood human male. And what a male! For the first time she realized that she had been dreading this moment, fearing to have a real face superimposed forever on the ideal face she had conjured for her ideal prince, real bones and meat to replace her dream. There was only one crown prince, and she was quite prepared to accept whatever her destiny sent her--physical attraction was something she had not been counting on. That would be a bonus.
What a handsome couple they would be!
She pulled off her helmet and shook out her hair. She told herself firmly to calm down and stop trembling. With a smile like that, he was nothing to fear. Ladies of her station married for dynastic and political reasons; she should not allow sex to intrude.
Why had he come on ahead, leaving his entourage aloft? Perhaps, being prince, he got first shot at the game.
The prince came trotting up the stairs again, went over to the terrace, and looked up. He waved his arms in some sort of signal.
He wore a plain blue flying suit with no insignia except the talon that was his symbol and a black diagonal stripe. She ought to know what that was for--she would have to brush up on her heraldry before she got to court. Perhaps he was in mourning for some distant relative.
Now he came back through the bars and walked over toward her, studying her with surprise. He was carrying his helmet now, as she was, and his hair was dark and curly.
"A woman!" he exclaimed. Then he smiled. Oh, that smile! "I beg pardon...a lady." He did not bow--but then, he was royalty, so that must be correct. "A lady bearing a message?"
She dropped to one knee and bowed her head so that her hair fell over one shoulder.
"I...I am Elosa, daughter of the keeper, Your--"
"The devil you are!" the prince said.
She looked up in surprise. His eyes had narrowed in sudden wariness. "And what message can possibly require so highborn and so beautiful a courier?"
No, she was not going to tell him about Ukarres's stupid plot. He had plenty of guards with him; he could not possibly be in any more danger at Ninar Foan than he was always in at court. He was her destiny! She would not be cheated. Her father would not come--he would be too busy searching for her around Koll Bleek. The prince would not send her home alone; he would order her to stay here over third watch, and tomorrow he would see what a fine skywoman she was. If her father wanted to warn him away again afterward, well, at least he would have had a chance to get to know her properly.
"I just came to say that you are indeed welcome to Ninar Foan, Your Highness."
CHAPTER 3
"Sow trust to reap loyalty."
THE crown prince was ten days ahead of his official itinerary when he arrived al Vinok. He had been eight days ahead of it at Gorr and five behind at Sastinon. His progress, in short, had been unpredictable--and that was Shadow's doing.
Flying in itself was dangerous. A flight along the whole length of the Rand was especially perilous because of its duration and because much of the country was poorly settled by men and well inhabited by wilds. For a prince to attempt such a trip was very close to folly; the inhabitants of savage lands tend to have long memories for injustice, real or imaginary. Rebels might plot political advantage; brigands might dream of ransom.
What was needed, Vindax had long since decided, was something he had flint met as a child in the palace school. He had not then known what it was, only that a few of the more humbly born seemed to have already developed some different way of thinking. He ran into it again when he went through the motions of enlisting in the Guard in order to gain flight training. No one was deceived into believing that he was an ordinary recruit, but one benefit was that he came to know a few young men from outside the aristocracy.
Once again he discovered this unfamiliar way of looking at the world, that he eventually analyzed as an ability to see it as it really was and not as it should be, plus a willingness to make it into what it might be, not what it ought to be. Eventually he put a name to it: common sense. And he discovered also that common sense did not flourish among the rituals of courtiers or the rule books of their bureaucrats.
Just knowing that it existed did not impart it, however. He was an aristocrat himself, and he could not think that way. But when he conceived his journey to Ninar Foan, he knew at once that he must include some of that common sense among his baggage. It was for that reason that he had scandalized the family, the council, and eventually the whole court by insisting on appointing a commoner as his new Shadow.
Tongues wagged and heads were shaken, but he had his way. At the banquet that followed the dubbings, the topic displaced even the queen's health.
And the very next day, that same commoner set the court on its ear a second time.
Shadow had spent an entire exhausting watch absorbing information under the restless eye of the crown prince. He had greeted first bell with relief, expecting that the worst part of his day must now be over, but it was not to be. Now he was living the life of a public personage, one which could not be divided as neatly as that of lesser mortals into periods of work, play, and sleep. The next item on the agenda, he learned with horror, was dinner with the king and queen.