The High King's Tomb

Page 206

The return of Estora marked the beginning of an endless stream of festivities as winter winds gusted in a fury around the castle turrets and leaked with icy fingers through windows, but despite Karigan’s involvement in Estora’s rescue, she managed to avoid a good deal of it, for there was a certain pre-wedding atmosphere to the proceedings, with both Estora and King Zachary presiding over affairs like the intended couple they were, and it all cut into Karigan’s gut no matter how she tried to dull the pain.

There were other matters vying for her attention, anyway. First, figuring was not one of Mara’s strong points and the Rider ledgers were badly in need of Karigan’s attention. Second, there was Condor who had returned from his journey as unscathed as Estora and Fergal. She spent many an hour grooming him and feeding him wrinkled apples, and even going riding on those days that were not so fiercely wintry.

And finally, there was the day all the Riders anticipated, both old and new: Mara’s release from the mending wing and official return to duty as Chief Rider. Yates escorted her from the mending wing to the Rider wing, which she had never seen before. Mara was met with applause from friends who had striven to make their quarters as warm and homey as one could make any section of an ancient castle, with bright tapestries and artwork.

Mara oohed and aahed at the appropriate moments as Yates showed her the decoration and the cozy common room, but Karigan detected a glistening in Mara’s eyes, likely of happiness, but also of loss over the Rider barracks that had been home for so long. For her, the Rider wing was a whole new experience.

When Yates took Mara to her room, he explained the trouble Garth had gone to in order to find just the right furnishings, and told her Garth was sorry he could not be there to show it all to her himself. When the door was opened, Mara was met with not only the best furnishings, but a painting by her favorite artist, a replacement set of books for those that had been lost in the fire, warm hangings and quilts, and more.

Finally Mara’s tears flowed in full, and Karigan thought the deep healing of her friend had finally come full circle.

SECRETS

Laren stood before the door to Lady Coutre’s parlor. The Weapon Willis guarded it, so she knew Lady Estora was within. She’d not been looking forward to this conversation, but it was time. Time before anymore crises arose and this problem was once again brushed aside. She tugged her shortcoat straight and knocked.

After a brief moment, a maid opened the door and admitted her. She was greeted by the domestic scene of Lady Coutre sitting with her three daughters before the fire, engaged in needlework and sipping tea. Laren bowed.

“Good afternoon, Captain,” Lady Coutre said, looking up from her embroidery. “This is a surprise.”

“I apologize for the intrusion,” Laren said.

“Have you a message for us?”

Laren smiled. It was a long time since she had carried messages. The lady’s two younger daughters, focused on needle and thread, paid her scant attention, but Lady Estora’s regard was rapt, and even hopeful.

“No,” Laren said. “I bear no messages. However, I wonder if I might have some words with Lady Estora.”

“Certainly, Captain. Won’t you join us? I’ll have Priscilla fetch you some tea.”

Laren shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Thank you, but I wish to speak with your daughter alone. It is Rider business in regard to her forthcoming role as queen.” It was certainly the truth.

“I see,” said Lady Coutre. “We can—”

Lady Estora stood, setting her needlework aside. “No reason to trouble yourself, Mother,” she said. “Captain Mapstone and I can speak elsewhere. Besides, I feel a need to stretch a bit.”

Her mother looked ready to object, then smiled. “As you wish, dear.”

Lady Estora preceded Laren out of the parlor and waited for her in the corridor. Laren joined her after taking leave of Lady Coutre.

“Thank you,” Lady Estora told her once the door was shut.

“For what?” Laren asked in surprise.

“For the excuse to leave. Make no mistake, I am grateful to be with my family and in safety once again, but I am bored unto tears. Needlework! I can’t bear it.”

“Ah,” Laren said. “That will happen after you’ve been riding with Green Riders. Nothing is the same again.”

“Exactly!” Lady Estora’s smile was radiant. “And I’ve wanted to thank you and your Riders, especially Karigan and Fergal, for their courage and help. They were wonderful. I don’t know what would have become of me if they hadn’t put themselves at great risk.”

“They were doing their job,” Captain Mapstone said, nevertheless feeling a surge of pride for her Riders.

“Yes, but I wish they’d receive some official recognition for their service.”

“Oh,” Laren said with a knowing grin, “no need to worry about that. However, there is something else that has been on my mind for some months now. We need to talk, and we need to do so someplace where we won’t be overheard.”

Lady Estora’s pleasure at seeing Laren faded from her face. “I see. I know of a place we can speak freely.”

And frankly, Laren hoped.

Lady Estora led her to Zachary’s old study, which was now a queen’s solarium, though it remained barren of furniture or ornament, and was freezing. Footsteps and voices rang hollow, and the light that flowed through the windows was winter cold.

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