He had intended to come with her to her first night event, but had felt too ill. Without his formidable presence the men gathered around her like locusts on a wheat field, which she found both annoying and amusing. True to the character she portrayed, Sham flirted with them gently, but made it clear she was faithful to the Reeve.
She was beginning to think that attending court was less than useless. The Whisper had more detailed knowledge of the less public lives of the courtiers than the court gossip did. So far though, she had found out nothing about the demon.
This night the entertainment was a minstrel of indifferent skill—at music. From the heated glances he exchanged with several of the ladies of the court. Sham assumed that his skills in other areas were more than adequate.
She yawned again and scratched her thigh discreetly. The wounds the demon had given her were at that stage in healing where they itched like wet wool. She gave serious consideration to retiring to her rooms early.
She opened her mouth to make her excuses to her current escort, when she saw Lady Sky sitting alone, with a pair of Eastern women tittering nearby. One of the things that Sham had discovered during her tours of court was that although the Southwood lords were tolerated by the Eastern lords, the Eastern women had no such tolerance for the Southwood ladies—who numbered two: Shamera and Sky.
They stayed away from Shamera, who was protected by Kerim’s presence or Halvok’s fledglings, but Sky was fair game as long as Lady Tirra wasn’t in the room. That the Eastern men didn’t share their ladies’ abhorrence for Lady Sky made things worse.
Shaking her head silently at herself. Sham began making her way through the throng to Lady Sky. The Shark swore her weakness for defenseless waifs was going to be the death of her.
Sky looked up, startled, as Shamera sat next to her—or perhaps it was her purple and yellow dress; it was certainly startling enough. Halvok’s appointed guardian took one of Sky’s hands and kissed it lightly before moving smoothly into the background, ensuring that the pair of Eastern ladies would have to find other prey.
“So tell me,” Shamera said, settling her skirts around her, “how a Southwoods lady managed to snare an Eastern warrior.”
Sky looked at her cautiously, but she must have taken heart from Sham’s artless stare. “I met him at Fahill’s pilgrimage gate.”
Sham widened her eyes, “How romantic! Ervan bought me from my father. I assure you it wasn’t romantic at all. I made him work hard to make it up to me—that’s how he died.” Ervan, an elderly, bitter man, had died in his bed by all reports. Kerim had assured her that he was the only one at court who’d ever met him.
Sky couldn’t help a sputter of laughter. “I’m not certain my situation was any more romantic.” She rested her hands gently on her swollen belly. When she looked back at Sham her eyes were haunted. “My father had held onto our manor by swearing fealty to an Easterner, but when the plague claimed him our overlord claimed the manor for his second son. My brother gathered us together and left for the court here at Landsend, where he’d heard the Reeve was receiving homeless nobles. Bandits overtook us just outside of Fahill. I was washing in the stream when I heard them. I was not armed, so I had to wait until they left before leaving my hiding place. The raiders killed everyone but me.”
Shamera leaned forward and took Sky’s hand. “I am sorry.”
Sky shook her head, forcing the old pain away. “No. It was a long time ago, and some good came of it. I continued toward Landsend, for lack of any better choice, and came upon Fahill close to nightfall. Fahill himself answered my knock.” She smiled then, lost in the moment. “Fahill was bigger than life. He was as red-headed as any trader child and larger than Kerim. When I had him, it seemed that nothing could go wrong.”
Sham remembered the security the Reeve had given her the night she’d been attacked by the demon and nodded. “At least you have his child.”
Encouraged by Sham’s sympathy, Sky continued. “I lost our first child two months before Fahill died. This one is an unexpected miracle.”
She looked up and quit talking as Lady Tirra came upon them.
“Lady Sky,” exclaimed Tirra, ignoring Shamera. “I’ve been looking for you; stand up, child.”
Kerim’s mother pulled Sky to her feet and into an open space on the floor. Clapping her hands loudly she caught the attention of the minstrel who stopped playing. She raised a graceful hand and gradually the attention of everyone present was drawn to her small figure.
“Lords and Ladies, I beg your indulgence for a moment.” Her voice, low and rich as it was, carried clearly to the farthest corners of the room. At her side, Sky looked like a rabbit caught in a hunter’s snare. “You have all been aware of the problems we’ve had settling Fahill’s estate. The dilemma has been a conflict between Southwood law and Cybellian custom. By Southwood law the lands should go to Lady Sky; by custom they should go to Lord Johar of Fahill. Most of his objection was that the lands, which were in Eastern hands, would be given to a Southwoods lady. We responded by proposing a marriage between my son, Lord Ven, and Lady Sky. He has most graciously accepted.”
Sham wondered if Lady Tirra was deliberately antagonizing the Southwood lords or if she was blind to the damage she was doing to the Reeve’s attempts to bind Easterner and Southwoodsmen together.
“The estates of Lord Fahill,” continued Lady Tirra triumphantly, “—long held in contention, have been settled. The estates of Fahill, Oran, and Tiber will be given into the hands of the late Lord Fahill’s brother and convey such title to him—from this day forth Lord Johar will be Lord Fahill. The estates of Kerhill and Tourn, as well as the title of Lord Kerhill will be settled on my son, Lord Ven, upon his marriage to Lady Sky. I ask you all for your congratulations.”
Lady Sky was frozen where she stood; all trace of color had left her face. She obviously had been told none of this. To have such an announcement made in front of the court—for the first time Sham was thankful for her life in Purgatory. At least there were some choices she could make for herself.
Lady Tirra continued as the room quieted. “I am sorry that Lord Ven was not here to help receive the well-wishes of the Court. He had urgent business and left early this morning: I shall inform him of the good news as soon as he returns.”
Sky stayed for a few minutes before leaving the room, leaning tiredly on Lady Tirra. As soon as the pair of them left, the court exploded into wild speculation and venomous whispers. Shamera drifted from group to group with her escort trailing politely behind.
“Lady Shamera, a word with you,” said Lord Ven’s smooth tones from behind her.
Sham glanced around. The room was still quite full, and she was able to catch the eyes of several men with whom she’d become, sociable. Only after they began to approach her did she turn to Lord Ven. He’d tried to corner her several times, mostly, she thought, to see if he could find a way to spoil Kerim’s enjoyment of her. Poor Lady Sky. Sham wondered if he’d been told of his betrothal—surely there was some fun to be had here.
She looked back at the handsome noble and frowned, tapping her chin in a puzzled fashion before she exclaimed, “Kerim’s brother!” She paused again, before saying, “Lord ... Van? I thought you were gone.”
There were a few smothered laughs from the group forming around them. Kerim’s brother was not well liked among any but the most radical groups of the court. It was not lost on these men that the pushier Lord Ven became, the less impression he seemed to make on her.
His handsome face reddened slightly, but he said easily-enough, “Lord Ven, Kerim’s legitimate half-brother. I just returned.”