He dared to come closer to her. “Princess, how do you think I feel?”
“Did you bring about your mother’s death through your own stupidity?”
“No…”
“Then you have no idea what I’m going through,” she said, her voice wavering. “I can hear her screams when it’s quiet. And when I look in the mirror I can see her face on fire. If someone lays a fire and I smell the smoke it makes me vomit.” She closed her eyes and held her hands in front of her face. “The alf should have killed me in her place,” Coira sobbed.
Rodario cared not a fig for the difference in status between them. He took her in his arms and pulled her to him, pressing her head against his chest. She threw her arms around him and sobbed her heart out.
Mallenia sat near the door and said nothing. She knew the value of such comfort-but to her surprise she suddenly felt jealous.
For some reason she had become besotted by this weakling of an actor. Probably because he was so gloriously un-macho and so different from every man she had ever known. The kiss he had stolen from her had only confirmed what her soul had long known.
She watched Rodario rocking the princess in his arms. I can’t ever tell him. Everyone would laugh at us, she thought unhappily. Look, here comes the warrior maiden with her lapdog rhymester. Anyone her swords cannot conquer he bores to death with the power of his tongue. Despite her unhappiness the very thought made her grin.
She tried to distract herself by thinking about the alfar twins. Mallenia had the corpse of the alfar woman in her mind’s eye. They had found it floating in the lake, but before they could reach it, it had sunk. She had clearly seen that Firusha’s breast and belly had been split open. She had initially survived the extremely serious injuries the maga had inflicted on her, and had died from the impact when she fell.
Probably Sisaroth had gone off to search for his sister, or for her body. Perhaps there was a special alfar ritual he was following; this delay could give them a much-needed respite from attack. And no one knew how the Dragon was going to react. He had not yet sent an answer.
There came a knock at the door: Loytan entered without waiting, and was already in the room before freezing at the sight of Rodario and the princess locked in an embrace. “How dare you, you jumped-up little actor?” he exclaimed, his voice husky with indignation. “Get your hands off the queen this instant! Come outside if you are man enough and I’ll show you how to behave.”
Mallenia coughed to announce her presence. “You’ve chosen the wrong moment for insisting on social niceties, Count Loytan,” she told him. “Calm down.” She saw the letter in his hand. “Is that Lohasbrand’s reply?”
“And what is that to you?”
She frowned impatiently. “When you have collected yourself and can think, you may remember that I am from the high-born race of the Ido, count,” she retorted boldly. “I am entitled to be addressed as the Regent of Idoslane. If you are as keen on etiquette and the proprieties as you would have us believe, then you will greet me with a sweeping bow every time you come into my presence, and you will call me Your Highness.” She saw him grow red. “Is that the way you want it, count?”
He was stony-faced with anger. “I have not opened the letter,” he responded. “And yes, it is from Lohasbrand.” He went over to put the missive on the desk.
Coira freed herself from Rodario’s arms and wiped the tears from her face. “Thank you,” she said and opened the envelope. Her eyes quickly scanned the lines and a fragment of dragon scale fell out onto the wooden desk. This was proof that the letter contained authentic instructions from Lohasbrand.
“And?” Rodario tried to glimpse the contents over her shoulder in a manner inappropriate for a man of his class. Loytan shot him a murderous glance and clenched his fists.
“He commands me to search for the alf and to take him prisoner. To this end he is sending one hundred orcs for my use,” she summarized. “And he insists on my taking an oath of allegiance.”
“That would mean being constrained with a collar like your mother,” said Rodario, horrified. “Surrounded by four guards? Abjuring magic completely?”
“I don’t care. That way I shall never be tempted to get back down to the lakebed to reinforce my powers,” she answered dully.
“Majesty, you mustn’t!” Mallenia was beside herself. “You are the last of all the maga…”
Coira’s countenance darkened. “So what?”
Rodario cursed under his breath. Mallenia had done the one thing he had been trying to avert-and he saw that the queen now would not be persuaded to change her mind. “It has been a difficult day and we are all over-excited. Let’s get some sleep. We can discuss this tomorrow.”
“Who are you to talk to Her Majesty like that?” raged Loytan. “You’ll not be discussing anything with anyone.” Then he glanced at Mallenia, fearing a reproof.
“Rodario is right.” Coira dried her tears. “I am exhausted and need to rest. Let us meet in the morning to talk about what the future holds. All of us,” she repeated emphatically, passing close by the actor as she left the room.
He heard her whispered “thank you” and then she was gone, followed by Loytan.
Rodario stared out of the window for some time before setting off for his own chamber, taking a detour via the open arcaded walk. He loved the freshness that came from the lake waters.
He would never have believed himself capable of driving the alf away with his fire-seeds trick. He thought it more likely that the black-eye had retreated in private sorrow over the sister’s death. Sisaroth had killed eighteen grown men before making off. May Firusha rot at the bottom of the lake, he wished.
Lost in thought, he had not noticed someone stepping out of the shadows. Only when the new arrival coughed did Rodario pay any attention. “Loytan. I didn’t expect to find you here,” he lied, brightly. “Is it time for that beating now?”
Count Loytan came nearer. “When I chucked you into the lake I should have shackled you first, stage scum!” He pointed down at the water. “This time that won’t be necessary. A fall of eighty paces should be sufficient to break your neck. Then there’s an end to your play-acting! You will not be missed.”
“You took me by surprise last time, count. Do you think you could do the same thing now?”
Loytan laughed in his face. “Without your theater tricks you’re nothing. Nothing at all,” he taunted, fitting knuckledusters over his hands.
Rodario grinned. “But you don’t seem to be relying on hitting me unaided. Do you think my chin is that hard?”
“I don’t want to have to touch vermin like you more than once, that’s all,” the count retorted.
“And how have I made you so jealous? I was only comforting Coira. Does your lady countess know about your private passion for Weyurn’s new queen?” Rodario was enjoying pouring oil onto the fire. It was always easier to fight an adversary who was beside himself with anger. “I’d be happy to inform her.”
“There’ll be nothing left of you able to utter a single word.” Loytan moved swiftly, but the actor stepped backwards.
“Stay where you are!” ordered the count.
“If you insist.” Rodario sighed. “But I warn you: If you attack me now no one will ever see you again. Not even your lady wife.”
“Dream on, idiot! And anyway, she already hates me.” Loytan launched a blow-and his fist met thin air!
“On stage you have to be agile and move quickly.” Rodario had simply done a forward roll between his attacker’s legs and had sprung upright. He kicked the count on the behind, making him stagger. “What’s the matter? Was that all you had in mind?”