Sunfeather’s hand went to his sword. “Are we to act upon the words of a lowborn piece of dung who has risen much too far above his natural state?” he snarled. “Your Majesty, I ask permission to make Aguila pay for these insults with his own base blood—”
Aguila grinned mirthlessly. “Anytime—if you think you’re up to it—”
“Be quiet—both of you!” Raven thundered. “How dare you bicker and trade insults in my throne room like a pair of quarreling fledglings!” Following her outburst, she realized that everyone was looking at her expectantly, and suddenly she found herself blushing and floundering for words.
“Lady?” Skua seized the initiative. “May I make a suggestion? Why not make these couriers pay for their defection by making atonement to Yinze himself? Because so many of our folk have been pressed into duty in the fields, I am desperately short of assistance to rebuild the temple.”
Raven jumped at the opportunity to get out of this interminable wrangle. Her head ached, and she was sick to death of the very sight of her advisers. All she could think about was whether Aurian and her companions were safe. At least Skua had given her the chance to make a decision at last—even though her conscience told her it was not the right one. “Yes, yes,” she said hastily. “I thank the Acting High Priest for his timely words of wisdom. It shall be as he advises. I deliver the miscreants into his charge—and once the new temple has been completed, they can return to the Syntagma. Whether they resume their former ranks or not depends on how they behave in the interim. That is my decree.” Letting her breath out in a sigh of relief, she sank back into her seat.
Aguila’s mouth had tightened into a thin, hard line. He was glaring at her so angrily that she looked away, unable to meet his accusing eyes. Behind the cover of his hand, Sunfeather was smirking. Raven bit her lip. She had got it all wrong in some way, that was plain—but how?
Cygnus was relieved that his friend had escaped the Queen’s censure for his part in the affair. Who’d have thought that Raven would prove so difficult? Thank Yinze that she lacked sufficient experience to see what was going on! And as for that Aguila—he was truly to blame, stirring matters up as he had. The time was fast approaching when the Commander of the Royal Guard would have to be put back in his lowly place.
The sudden realization that the Queen was still speaking brought Cygnus out of his reflections with a jolt.
“Whatever you may think about my association with the Mages, I have made a promise I must keep,” Raven was saying, “so someone else must be sent to see if the Lady Aurian is safe, and to help her if they can. Someone who can be trusted, this time, to send back proper messages, and not to desert his post at the first sign of trouble. Can anyone think who we may fitly send?”
Cygnus’s heart leapt within him. At last—beyond all hope, his chance had come! He had been livid when the Queen had named him as her taster, thus ruining for good any chance he might have of winning the position of High Priest. Since then, he had found his greedy thoughts fixing again and again upon the Harp of Winds. If the Artifact were only his…
“Your Majesty—for the love and loyalty I bear you, I will go.” The words were out of Cygnus’s mouth before he even knew what he was doing, and for an instant he felt the clutch of panic. But his instincts had not played him false.
Raven’s face lit up with her smile—and then she hesitated. He could see her lips tug down at the corners, and knew she was hating herself for that moment of indecision. “Loyal Cygnus—you are such a good friend to me. But are you sure? I can ill spare you…”
Cygnus inclined his white head in a bow. “Majesty, it would be my privilege. And as one who already knows and is friendly with the Mages, who better could you send?”
The Queen of the Winged Folk nodded. “You have my eternal gratitude—and when you return from your mission, you will be rewarded as you deserve.”
I will indeed, thought Cygnus—but not in the way that you imagine, if all goes well…
When the meeting of the council finally ended and the winged men had departed, Elster lagged behind. “Your Majesty,” she said gravely, “may I speak privately with you?” Without waiting for a reply she took hold of Raven’s wrist and practically yanked her from the chamber. Instead of going onto the vast covered porch and flying the quicker and more public route to the Queen’s rooms, as they were wont to do, the physician shepherded her young charge through the labyrinth of little-used corridors within the palace, never once letting go of her arm.
When they were finally alone in the Raven’s sumptuous chambers, and a servant had poured wine for them both and been dismissed, leaving the flask behind at Elster’s behest, Raven turned to her mentor. “All right,” she muttered. “By the expression on your face, I can tell that you have something to say.”
Elster took a long draft of her wine, shook her head, and sighed. “What am I going to do with you?”
“What do you mean?” Raven demanded. “What have I done wrong now?”
“You mean you really don’t know?” The physician raised an eyebrow. “Foolish girl—did you have to antagonize Sunfeather like that?”
Wine spilled on the inlaid surface of the ebony table as Raven slammed down her cup in temper. “And just what was I supposed to do?” she exploded. “Sit there meekly and smile at all his veiled insolence? Yinze take it, Elster—how am I supposed to rule if I can’t antagonize Sunfeather, not to mention those other arrogant, smug, manipulative bullies on the Council?”
“Wipe up that wine, Your Majesty,” said Elster mildly, “before it stains the table. It’s not that you must never cross them,” she went on. “But what counts is the way that you do it. Today you were right to put Sunfeather in his place—he was trying to conceal important information from you, and that you must never allow. But you didn’t have to humiliate him at the same time. You only needed to be firm. Once he saw that you wouldn’t let him get away with such tactics, it would have been enough. He wouldn’t have liked it, but he could respect such a move on your part. Sending the Wingmarshal of the Syntagma out on a mere servant’s errand, however, was inexcusable. Believe me, Raven—if you set out to alarm the Council with such high-handed behavior, you will have the shortest reign in the history of the Skyfolk.”
Raven looked at the old physician in silence, her mouth set in a stubborn line. “It’s not fair,” she muttered at last. “The way they act toward me, no one would ever think I was the Queen—and you’re not much better. You treat me like a child…” Her eyes flashed with a spark of anger.
“If you act like one, that’s all you can expect,” Elster responded swiftly. “Now, heed me, Raven. Until today, Sunfeather and the others thought you were nothing more than a spoiled child who could be manipulated. Therin lay your power. When men are off their guard, they usually can be defeated, and not even realize what has happened until it is too late. You would do well to take your example from Aguila, instead of hackling at him all the time—that one has his wits about him.”
The Queen made a small sound of derision. “Aguila? Wits? Why he’s nothing but a boorish, lowborn—”
“And that’s my point.” Elster leaned across the table, interrupting the girl in the midst of her tirade. “You see?” she said quietly. “He has you fooled as well as the rest of them.”
Raven stared at the physician, openmouthed.
“Close your mouth, dear. Queens definitely do not gape.” Elster took a sip of her wine. “Now, instead of sitting there glaring at me, think back to that meeting, after you sent Sunfeather away. With one simple, seemingly casual question, Aguila managed both to establish his own innocence in this affair, and put Skua in a very awkward position—at least that would have been the case had you been paying attention. Had you not interrupted when you did, he might also have discovered for you whether Cygnus was part of this plot to conceal the truth from his Queen.”