If only Anonoei had not been taken. If only one of her sons were still alive. Someone to be a focal point for Icewegian patriots. Keel would not be regent himself, but it would be someone that he trusted-perhaps even Anonoei. Since she was no mage at all, and a compliant woman, she would be easy to guide.
But she was gone, and so were her sons. It was a terrible time for those who loved Iceway. If only King Prayard were a better king, and not the doting lover of that Sparrowgirl Bexoi.
It was one of Keel’s talents that he could conduct his ordinary business while plotting his plots; he did not have to talk his plans out with anyone, nor did he need to draw maps or doodle words and notes. He seemed to others to be busy all the time; they did not know what was going on behind his eyes.
His meeting with the heads of two quarreling merchant families ended-he had almost, but not quite, grabbed them by the hair and banged their foolish heads together. They were both young, too young for so much responsibility. Only men who were old enough for their temper to be cool were fit to lead in matters of commerce.
Or revolution. Or war. Sometimes Keel even wondered if he was still too young.
It hardly mattered. Since none of his plans worked out, he would be old soon enough. Maybe he needed to be more hotheaded, and not so careful.
Then again, hotheads were quickly caught and killed. Keel got where he was by being methodical and silent.
As he was silent now, alone in his small office overlooking the armory yard. He strode to the window and looked out over the hum of activity. He knew the purpose of every man and woman who crossed the yard, knew what was in every wagon, what was being forged by every fire.
“Do not turn from the window. Do not show any sign that you are not alone.”
It was a woman’s voice. He knew the voice. It was Anonoei.
But he did not turn. If she was alive, if she was here, then something powerful and dangerous was going on.
So he said nothing, did not turn. He waited.
“Now, as if you were weary of watching, close the shutter, my old friend.”
Wordlessly-for he did not want anyone below to glance up and see his lips moving, and thus conclude that he was not alone-he closed the shutters and then turned.
There she stood, looking exactly as she had the morning when he told her to pack for herself and her sons, only the smallest bag of the least clothes, only what she needed for two days. Instead the foolish woman had made a big production of packing a trunk, and someone must have seen, must have said what she was doing, and so she had been taken.
But she was still beautiful. Still warm and comforting in the way she looked at every man. As so many times before, Keel thought: I can see why the King loves this woman.
He certainly forgot her quickly enough when she was gone.
“I’m sorry I could not send you word before now,” she said softly.
“I feared that you were dead.”
“So did I, sometimes,” said Anonoei. “And other times I wished that I could die. But now I am glad to be alive, and glad of my friends. Are you my friend?”
Keel shook his head. “I am the loyal servant of-”
“Oh, my dear, my dear old friend,” said Anonoei, “I know what you are the loyal servant of.”
“Who?” he asked.
“Some say you serve only your own career. Some say you serve the factories as once you served the shipyards. Some say you serve your family’s ambitions. Some say you serve the King like his faithful dog.”
“Dogs turn on their masters; when the master falls, when he dies, the dog will drink his blood and tear his flesh.”
“Always a cheerful man,” said Anonoei. “I know you serve something higher than your own career, higher than your family, higher than the King. I know that you are loyal to Iceway.”
“Are you going to pretend that you share this loyalty?” asked Keel.
“Are you going to ask where I have been?” asked Anonoei.
“No,” said Keel. “If you don’t want me to know, then your answer would be a lie; if you want me to know, you’ll tell me without my asking.”
“My loyalty is to my children,” said Anonoei, “but thanks to a trusted friend, they are now safe, in a place where no one can find them, let alone harm them.”
“One might suppose that you are saying they are dead,” said Keel.
“Not dead. Very much alive, and ready to inherit the kingdom, if the need for that arises. But I hope it does not arise.”
Keel wasn’t sure how to hear her words. With anyone else, he would assume that it was all a sham-that she was telling the truth by denying it. But there was something about her that made him think she might be honest.
“You hope the Sparrow Queen’s wombling will take their place?”
“Those sons were born from love, not ambition,” said Anonoei. “I think they will be happier not to be kings, or to be used by those who want to make them kings. But if they’re needed, they’re alive and safe. I thought you should know.”
“It was kind of you to tell me,” said Keel. He let the tone of his voice say, If that’s all, then go away.
“You’re an amazing fellow, Keel. A woman that you thought was dead shows up in your cell and you seem utterly unsurprised.”
“If I showed what I feel then all men would know my heart,” said Keel.
“Instead, only I do.”
“Your new friend is a gatemage,” said Keel. “Or else you could not have entered this place. Be careful-gatemages have a way of running afoul of the Gate Thief and losing all their magery. You wouldn’t want to be stranded somewhere inaccessible. I hope your boys are in a place they can walk away from, when the gates are gone.”
Anonoei smiled a thin but pleasant smile. Keel was a clever man. He knew what the smile had to mean.
“The liar told you that he was the Gate Thief, didn’t he? Don’t you know that gatemages can never tell the truth? It’s against their nature.”
“Let’s talk about what we’re going to do now,” said Anonoei.
There was nothing overtly sexual or even ironic in her tone, and yet “what we’re going to do now” made Keel’s thoughts suddenly turn to the rumpled bed in the corner of the room.
“Not now,” said Anonoei, as if she had read his thoughts. It seemed some women could always read such thoughts, when men had them. Or perhaps men always had such thoughts, so it took no great cleverness to read them. “I know you plan to kill the King, but I wish that you would not.”
“You do me no favor to say that,” said Keel. “I have no such plan.”
“That was your plan when you told me to pack. I obeyed you, but made it obvious enough that surely someone would notice me and tell the King, so he could prevent my going.”
“Did he?”
“Someone else did,” said Anonoei. “I will not let you kill the King.”
Keel shrugged. “Since I do not plan to do this awful crime,” he began.
Then he found himself outside the door of his room. He had not moved, or rather, he had made no effort to move. Yet he had been inside the room, and now he was outside it.
The door opened. “Come in,” said Anonoei. “Do you believe me now when I say that you will not kill anyone I tell you not to kill?”
“So you’re a mage after all,” said Keel, reentering the room.
“Am I?”
“Or that gatemage friend of yours is listening, sending me here and there at your command.”
“Oh, no one commands him, dear Keel. You have the magery of iron. It does what you command, your machinery never needs oiling, your iron never rusts. That is what you do.”
“And what do you do?” asked Keel.
She reached out and touched his hand.
All at once his body filled with a bright longing for her to wrap her arms around him.
And then, just as quickly, she shifted her hand and he felt himself to be unworthy of her love. He did not want her to embrace him, he wanted her to overlook him entirely.
She took his hand between both her hands and all those feelings fled. Now between them there was only a deep, abiding friendship. The most important friendship of their lives.