Over the next few days, that thick skin came hi very useful. Half the inhabitants of both keep and village viewed her much the way Gerek did; as at least partially responsible for the execution of Pjerin a'Stasiek. The other half flashed the sign against the kigh whenever she approached and went out of their way to obviously avoid her. When she went to visit Bohdan, Pjerin's old steward, his daughter's partner stiffly refused to let her see him and finally slammed the heavy door in her face.
Many people wore Cemandian styles and she saw Cemandian influence in nearly every facet of the villagers' lives. Only one woman was openly welcoming, but as she insisted on reciting long and boring verse that she knew would sound wonderful set to music, Stasya considered that a mixed blessing at best.
She was never able to sing or play for the children again, although she put herself in places where they might have approached her if they'd dared. Gerek, she saw only from a distance as he glared at her from a window or around a corner. Finally, Stasya gave up trying to speak with him, just as happy not to have to see the accusations in his eyes.
Against such strongly held prejudices, Charm would have no effect. Although Tadeus might have been able to use it, Stasya knew it was beyond her abilities. More than once she was tempted to Command the information she needed, but Command was less than subtle and at the first hint of an inquiry, the traitor would be away out of His Majesty's reach.
She Sang the attitudes she faced onto the kigh. The king needed to be prepared.
Eavesdropping became her greatest source of information; fortunately, it was a skill bards were trained in and her presence at the keep brought up old discussions of the treason. It wasn't long before she learned that the young due's regent was considered to have ideas for the advancement of Ohrid, was strengthening the defenses in the pass, and was someone it was safer never to cross. Surprisingly enough, for a due who had supposedly made a deal with Cemandia, Pjerin's greatest fault was remembered as his being too restrictive with the border.
"Holding out for the best deal," muttered one villager within Stasya's hearing.
While Pjerin had been respected for his strength, he hadn't been feared. Olina's strength, on the other hand, generated as much fear as respect.
With a bard's right to wander where she willed, Stasya walked one day out into the pass and stared up at the huge timber palisade that held back enough rock to fill the narrowest section two body-lengths deep. Ingeniously crafted by the third Due of Ohrid, it could be triggered by releasing a single wheel which, in turn, released the tension on the entire system. It had been tested twice, Stasya recalled—amidst much grumbling when it came time to clear and refill, one rock at a time—but had never needed to be used. She squinted up at the people climbing along the top edge and wondered if the kigh could tell her what they were doing.
"You shouldn't be here," Lukas grunted from behind her. "It's dangerous."
Stasya turned quickly enough to catch the end of his sign against the kigh. She was tempted to go ahead and Sing but instead asked, "What are they doing up there?"
"Maintenance." His tone said it was none of her business. "You should go. It's dangerous."
"Isn't it more dangerous for th…" The last word got lost in a mad scramble backward as a rock the size of her head fell a body length from where she'd been standing, shooting shards of stone in all directions.
"No," Lukas snapped, white-faced and glaring up at the top of the palisade as he clutched at a gash in his forearm.
Stasya, thanking every god in the Circle that she hadn't been hit, reached without thinking for his arm. "Here, let me look at that."
The due's steward recoiled and pointed out of the pass with a bloody finger. "Go!" he spat. "I wouldn't have even been down here but for you."
Stasya went.
"He hates you because his only daughter was killed by the kigh."
"What?" Stasya stared at the cook, who'd been forced to speak with her in order to prepare for the coming of the king. It hadn't been hard to twist the subject to the new steward as the old staff despised him. "How?"
"She was Singing fire and it burned up the house with her in it. Happened early Fourth Quarter."
"But Annice was here in Third Quarter. She must've tested the girl for ability."
The cook snorted. "Lukas a'Tynek would no more let his child be tested by a bard than he'd, he'd…" She glanced around the kitchen for inspiration. "Than he'd bake a cherry pie. He follows the old Cemandian ways that came over the mountain, back when. Believes the kigh are outside the Circle."
"Why do you think the Lady Olina made him steward?"
"'Cause she can't be regent and steward both, much as she'd think things would go better with her running it all, and Lukas is someone she can push around. Lots of folk up here follow the old beliefs."
"But his daughter died because of them." Stasya sighed and shook her head. "What do you believe?"
Suddenly aware who she was speaking to, the cook busied herself with rolling pastry. "I believe," she said, her gaze fixed firmly on the job, "in keeping my own counsel."
Olina i'Katica seemed to be the only person in all of Ohrid who had no opinion on Stasya's involvement with the sixth due's treason. Stasya suspected that was because she was still so furious at Albek's betrayal, at being used by the Cemandian to gain access to her nephew.
Albek had to have tampered with her memories as well, for under Command, Olina's testimony had matched Pjerin's. If Stasya could Command the older woman again, she might be able to find out how he'd done it and who the actual traitor was he'd left behind. Was it Lukas? Had Olina appointed him because of something Albek had left in her mind?
Or was it Olina herself? Had she agreed to his tampering in order to control a child due? Stasya watched her and wondered. While she was both self-centered and ambitious, could she actually be cold-blooded enough to frame her own nephew and send him to the block?
The problem was, Olina had no more to gain than anyone in Ohrid, for Stasya doubted that Queen Jirina much cared who she set up after conquest as her puppet in the keep.
Stasya was certain of two things only; that when King Theron arrived, Lady Olina was going back under Command; and that she wasn't going to be the one who told her so.
Four days later, she heard about Simion.
"I sent him away the morning after you arrived." Olina wiped her hands and smiled across the table at the bard. "He was a very pretty Cemandian mountebank who came through the pass with the first lot of traders. I think I was using him to get back at Albek."
"Why did you send him away?" Feeling a surge of sympathy for the unknown young man, Stasya toyed with the fork beside her plate. Although common enough in the capital, she was surprised to find the utensil in use in Ohrid. The silversmith's mark was not one she knew, so the set had to have come from Cemandia.
"I just told you." Smiling, Olina pushed her chair back from the table. "You arrived."
The room was suddenly very warm.
"Before the Riverfolk discovered that the Circle encloses all beliefs, they had a Goddess." Training kept Stasya's voice steady. "She was dark and beautiful and lived in the deep still places of the river. Whenever any of the Riverfolk drowned, it was said they'd gone to the bed of the Goddess."
"My bed is drier."
"Perhaps, Lady." Stasya stood and bowed. "But I'd be just as unlikely to survive. If you'll excuse me?"
Complimented by the comparison, Olina regally inclined her head.
Needing air, Stasya headed for the high watchtower. At the far end of the keep, its base as high on the mountain as the inner watchtower's roof, it gave an unobstructed bird's-eye view down into the pass and along it into Cemandian territory. She knew the observation post stood empty as Olina had commented on it, saying, "There'll be no invasion now the traitor has been discovered."