Pegasus Part 5

The footman returned at that moment with a tray with three goblets and three low bowls on it. He offered it first to his king, who took up one goblet; another footman materialised to lift one of the bowls and hold it for Lrrianay. The second goblet went to Danacor, who now came to stand beside his father and sister, wearing much the same worried expression the king was wearing, only it was much starker on his young face; the second bowl went to Thowara. And then the third goblet came to Sylvi-she peered into it: the water was barely pink with a spoonful of red wine-and another footman took the third bowl to Ebon.

He flattened his nose and took a brief sip for politeness: Eeeugh, Eeeugh, he said. he said. What is this stuff? What is this stuff?

Watered wine, said Sylvi. said Sylvi. It's always watered-maybe not this much-except at really big or important parties or occasions or events or things, even for the grown-ups. I like water with loomberry juice better, but you have to make a fuss to get it. It's always watered-maybe not this much-except at really big or important parties or occasions or events or things, even for the grown-ups. I like water with loomberry juice better, but you have to make a fuss to get it.

Ebon took a second sip. Does not improve on acquaintance. You should drink our Does not improve on acquaintance. You should drink our-he made a pegasus noise that sounded like "fwhfwhfwha"-it's much nicer. "fwhfwhfwha"-it's much nicer.

Upon a murmur from the human king, six more footmen had followed the first, bearing many more goblets and a few more bowls, and wine was offered to everyone in the room, human and pegasus. When the footmen came to the magicians, Kachakon and Gornchern, who were still standing next to each other, were first: Kachakon quickly picked up a goblet, Gornchern only after several seconds' delay. The king was binding them together against Fthoom; closing Fthoom out of a new alliance which included the princess and her pegasus. He would have less talking to do after they had drunk together-and one did not refuse a drink offered by the king. She could see Kachakon's hand was shaking, and that Gornchern drank his wine as if it burnt him. She thought, He would have gone with Fthoom, but he remained so that he can tell Fthoom what happened.

The king bent to kiss her forehead."You may go," he said, speaking so that no one would hear but herself. "I do not deny you your friend, nor do I ask you not to speak to him. But I do do ask you: try not to behave in any way that anyone looking on could mark as different from the relations.h.i.+p of any bound human and their pegasus-and do not answer any questions. Do you understand?" ask you: try not to behave in any way that anyone looking on could mark as different from the relations.h.i.+p of any bound human and their pegasus-and do not answer any questions. Do you understand?"

No flying, thought Sylvi, and gulped."Yes, Father."

CHAPTER 7.

They went flying anyway, of course. They couldn't help it.

Lrrianay had given Ebon almost exactly the same orders as her father had given Sylvi. Do you suppose they'd already discussed it? Do you suppose they'd already discussed it? said Ebon that morning the human king had stripped the magician's spiral from Fthoom's head. They'd just been released from attendance on their fathers; Sylvi took a deep breath as one of the footmen bowed them out of the receiving room, as if it was the first time she'd been able to breathe properly since she went in. Even Ebon was subdued as they walked soberly across the inner garden toward the more open parkland beyond the Outer Great Court. It occurred to neither of them to question that they wanted to stay together. They would be together as much as they could from the moment of their meeting. said Ebon that morning the human king had stripped the magician's spiral from Fthoom's head. They'd just been released from attendance on their fathers; Sylvi took a deep breath as one of the footmen bowed them out of the receiving room, as if it was the first time she'd been able to breathe properly since she went in. Even Ebon was subdued as they walked soberly across the inner garden toward the more open parkland beyond the Outer Great Court. It occurred to neither of them to question that they wanted to stay together. They would be together as much as they could from the moment of their meeting.

No, said Sylvi positively. said Sylvi positively. They're just both kings. And fathers. And they've been friends for forty years, even if they don't talk much. They're just both kings. And fathers. And they've been friends for forty years, even if they don't talk much.

Mmmh, said Ebon. said Ebon. In forty years what will we be like? In forty years what will we be like?

That was the first time either of them asked that question, although it became a regular one between them-less as a question than as a way of stopping a conversation that had drifted toward an undesirable topic such as the number of taralian sightings, or that the queen was now riding out with a scout troop almost as often as she would have if she weren't both the queen and officially retired. Or the rumours of Fthoom, and of the schism in the Magicians' Guild; or the way Sylvi could recognise the magicians and courtiers who did not like her relations.h.i.+p with Ebon by the way they avoided her. One of her attendant ladies had been replaced; she hadn't asked why, because she thought she knew the answer: Fgeela had had a tight, hard expression any time she saw Sylvi and Ebon together.

Sylvi didn't know when In forty years what will we be like? In forty years what will we be like? became code for became code for Can we please stop now? Can we please stop now? But she knew it had. But she knew it had.

That first time Ebon asked it, they had just come through the Great Arch, and the statue of Queen Amarinda was to their left, surrounded by weeping pear trees, like courtiers. Sylvi had always liked that statue; Amarinda had a hawk on her fist. On their right was the statue of Queen Sisis.h.i.+ni, looking proud and elegant, but with her wings watchfully half raised. As she and Ebon came through the arch, Ebon was on Amarinda's side and Sylvi was on Sisis.h.i.+ni's. As she turned her head to look at Ebon she seemed to meet Amarinda's eyes. Amarinda looked at her mildly, but Sylvi felt she was saying, Well? And what will you do with what has been given you? Well? And what will you do with what has been given you?

As if on some prearranged agreement, they stopped as soon as they were on the far side of the arch, out of sight of the palace so long as they remained close to the park hedgerows. They looked at each other-Sylvi thought Ebon's eyes flicked briefly over her shoulder, perhaps to meet the gaze of Sisis.h.i.+ni-long enough for Ebon to slash his wings out and in, and for Sylvi to pick up and put down one foot like a restless horse. But their imaginations failed them. They had still known each other less than twenty-four hours.

Race you to the cherry tree, said Ebon after the silence had begun to grow uncomfortable. said Ebon after the silence had begun to grow uncomfortable.

Race you? said Sylvi indignantly. said Sylvi indignantly. You'll win! You'll win!

I promise not to win by very much, said Ebon. said Ebon.

Sylvi giggled-and set off running, Ebon trotting nonchalantly at her side.

Three years later, they were still using their old idiom: In forty years, what will we be like? In forty years, what will we be like? In ten, twenty, thirty-seven years what would they be like? Fifteen years old was already worlds beyond twelve; it was, in fact, harder and harder to go on not imagining adulthood. When Sylvi turned sixteen she would take her place in the council-and Ahathin would no longer be her tutor. In ten, twenty, thirty-seven years what would they be like? Fifteen years old was already worlds beyond twelve; it was, in fact, harder and harder to go on not imagining adulthood. When Sylvi turned sixteen she would take her place in the council-and Ahathin would no longer be her tutor.

"And you don't need a Speaker," he said, "although for the purposes of the royal bureaucrats who need someone's name to write in the blank s.p.a.ce, I should be honoured to retain the t.i.tle."

"Oh, but I will need an adviser!" said Sylvi.

"There will be many folk clamouring to be your advisers-" began Ahathin.

"Yes, I know," Sylvi put in hastily. "I would like to appoint you my adviser on advisers."

"Very well, my lady," said Ahathin. When he said "my lady" he was serious. "Subject to your father's agreement, I accept."

Being a grown-up was something that happened to you whether you were ready or not; she and Ebon had each watched three brothers cross that threshold. Farley and Oyry were recently returned from a diplomatic visit to Peshcant, in the hopes of reminding them that if taralians, and possibly worse, were breeding in the wild lands between the two countries, then Peshcant was also at risk. Garren and Poih had been making a tour of the locations in the Kish and the Greentop Mountains that the queen had felt needed regular patrolling; there were now several semipermanent camps where soldiers could be stationed. And Danacor and Thowara had been visiting Lord Gram, who had a daughter who might become the next queen.

("She has a good head on her shoulders," said the present queen, "but she's a terrible shot, and worse with a sword. She'd make a superb quartermaster. But who are we going to marry Farley to? He's the one needs settling.") Sylvi finally managed to talk to Danacor about how strange everything had become. Danny had less and less time to talk to anyone but messengers and amba.s.sadors and administrators and agents, and occasional aggrieved ordinary subjects dogged enough to stay the course through the lower functionaries and insist on speaking to the king or his heir. But she thought he might understand what it was like for her-he'd been through the ritual of the sovereign's heir, which had to be even huger and scarier than having the most powerful magician in the country hate you.

She'd told Danacor about the Sword looking looking at her, and he'd said, "Unlucky for you. Neither Farley nor Garren got the full treatment. Dad says the Sword has sleepy days and wakeful days. I got a wakeful day, but the heir usually does. So did you, I guess. I don't know why, except you never know with the Sword." He grinned at her. "Maybe it was surprised to see a girl. But you know-the ritual of binding to your pegasus really counts for something. Unlike, say, the Exaltation of Water." at her, and he'd said, "Unlucky for you. Neither Farley nor Garren got the full treatment. Dad says the Sword has sleepy days and wakeful days. I got a wakeful day, but the heir usually does. So did you, I guess. I don't know why, except you never know with the Sword." He grinned at her. "Maybe it was surprised to see a girl. But you know-the ritual of binding to your pegasus really counts for something. Unlike, say, the Exaltation of Water."

The Exaltation of Water was famous not only in their family but among most of the country. It was supposed to be a rite to honour the water that flowed through the kingdom and to ask that it continue to flow as it did, bright and clear and lavish-the country had many fine rivers, which provided not merely drink and was.h.i.+ng but the running of many wheels to produce power-but in practise it had degenerated into a yearly epic water fight. A royal family with three boys in it had set the tone for so many years that by now, when all three boys were theoretically grown, the small-excited-boy version of the rite continued to prevail. Even Danacor forgot himself during the Exaltation of Water. Sylvi, as soon as she'd been old enough, joined in enthusiastically, and had no desire to see it revert to a few discreet sprinkles and some wet feet. This enthusiasm was shared by all the small, medium-sized and large boys who lived not too far from the mouth of the Anuluin, where the ritual was held, who could easily attend year after year, as well as many of their fathers-and mothers, sisters and sweet-hearts.

"The binding means something to everyone who goes through it. Whatever you think about the treaty and its provisions-"

Sylvi had managed to read a copy of the treaty, with Ahathin's help: the second commander's diary was mostly perfectly comprehensible if oddly spelled, but the treaty, aside from being written in a script that hadn't been used in five hundred years, was in desperately old-fas.h.i.+oned formal language, plus (Ahathin said) Gandam had tried to incorporate some pegasus phrasing. It could have said almost anything and she wouldn't have known.

She had thought, since her binding, that she would like another look at it, now that what it said was a real part of her life too, but she had kept putting off asking. Ahathin would be more than happy to help her, but she felt awkward around Ahathin about anything even remotely to do with Ebon. And she didn't want to read the schoolroom copy again-she wanted to try to read the true one on the wall of the Great Hall. Perhaps she could read the flower petals. But she would be seen to be doing so. And wouldn't that look silly and pretentious in a superfluous princess?

And wouldn't someone report to Fthoom what she was doing-the superfluous princess who had spoken out against him in open court? She didn't want any extra reports on her activities going to Fthoom.

Danacor continued, "You think you know about pegasi; you've grown up with them, you know Lrrianay's face almost as well as you know Dad's. You know what happens. And then it happens to you: your pegasus is a here-and-now, living-and-breathing individual. And it's not just real, it's real in ways you didn't didn't know. But, Syl, know. But, Syl, n.o.body's n.o.body's had a binding like yours." had a binding like yours."

"Being made heir-that must have changed everything. More."

"Yes. But we knew it was coming." There was a little silence. Danacor was watching her. But she couldn't make herself say the name of her enemy out loud. "Try not to worry about Fthoom," Danacor said at last. "Dad's got him fully occupied and better than half the magicians and scribes working for him report to Dad or me. Enjoy that we don't have to listen to him bullying everyone in council any more."

Sylvi rubbed her face in a gesture she realised she 'd learnt from her father. She took her hand down and looked at it as if it didn't belong to her. "But we have to listen to Soronon going on and on. on. Who cares that magician apprentices.h.i.+ps are down three percent this year? Or that rituals requiring magicians are up five percent in Hills.h.i.+re? Can't he just submit the report and anyone who Who cares that magician apprentices.h.i.+ps are down three percent this year? Or that rituals requiring magicians are up five percent in Hills.h.i.+re? Can't he just submit the report and anyone who wants wants to know can read it?" to know can read it?"

"Poor old Soronon. Farley calls him Snore-on. But it's not entirely his fault-everyone's really jumpy because of what happened with Fthoom, and Snore-on doesn't want anyone to think the magicians' guild is hiding anything."

"I know everyone's jumpy. Even the Sword is."

Danacor looked startled. "The Sword?"

"Oh, well," said Sylvi. "I mean, it flickers. It flickers blue all along its edge sometimes, so it almost looks like it's moving. Like Fralialal's wings in the mural. Especially when we're in the Great Hall and it's hanging on the wall-it almost looks like it's going to leap out of its stays. If someone's going to jump I'd rather it were Fralialal, but if the Sword would make Snore-on stop talking I'd be all for it."

But Danacor was looking at her oddly.

"What's wrong?" she said. "It does flicker-doesn't it?"

"Yes," said Danacor. "But most people don't see it. Not even the magicians. Usually only Dad and me."

Sylvi stared at him, a p.r.i.c.kle of cold moving up her spine.

"Don't spread it around that the Sword's awake, okay?" Danacor said, trying to sound as if he were talking about something of no importance, and failing. "It's ..." He stood up abruptly and went to look out the window as if he'd heard someone call his name. He turned back again. "It's never good news."

Sylvi attended court and council meetings, took her hours in the practise yard under the master-at-arms, bowed to people in the corridors and tried to accustom herself to the fact that there was almost always someone with her now. At first she had thought that was just a part of having turned twelve, of being bound, of being a princess with her first adult responsibilities. But the tall, expressionless footman who'd thrust her behind him when Fthoom had roared at her-and whose name, she learnt, was Glarfin-had seemingly been a.s.signed specially to her. And there was something familiar about Lady Lucretia, who had replaced the lady who didn't like her relations.h.i.+p with Ebon ... which she remembered the day she saw Lucretia gleefully driving her opponent against the wall in the practise yard. When Lucretia waited on the princess, she was always wearing a dress, and had her hair beautifully done up, but Sylvi had been watching her chasing people around the practise yard for years. She'd never asked her name, although she was very aware of her. She measured her own progress against whether she was ready to ask for Lucretia as a sparring partner. Not yet.

It was the day after she'd seen Lucretia getting the better of a man half again bigger than she was that she took a long, thoughtful look at Glarfin, and said, trying not to sound accusing,"You stand like a soldier."

"I was a soldier, lady," said Glarfin.

"Sylvi," said Sylvi. "If you were a soldier, why are you a footman?"

"I was wounded," said Glarfin."It took a long time to heal. They did not think I would make a soldier again, but I was not good at being invalided out and doing nothing. So they made me a footman."

"Wounded," said Sylvi. "But you used to lift me onto my cus.h.i.+ons."

"You never weighed anything," said Glarfin, "and I healed better than they expected. But I had found I liked being a footman, and sleeping in my own bed every night."

"But you still stand like a soldier ... and ... and you react like a soldier," said Sylvi, remembering the day after her twelfth birthday.

"I was well trained, lady," said Glarfin.

"Sylvi," said Sylvi. "You're not an attendant-you don't follow me around to open doors and bow and make sure everyone knows there's a princess nearby-you're a guard. guard."

"I'm sorry, lady," said Glarfin.

"Sylvi," said Sylvi.

"I cannot call you Sylvi any more than I can help reacting like a soldier," said Glarfin.

"Like Lucretia is a guard. How many of you are there? Lieutenant," added Sylvi.

"I do not use lieutenant any more," said Glarfin.

"I don't use lady lady except with strangers except with strangers, or in court," said Sylvi."How many of you? Not Celia, I think-snakes make her scream. Guridon? Alsa? Orooca? Minni? Pansa?" or in court," said Sylvi."How many of you? Not Celia, I think-snakes make her scream. Guridon? Alsa? Orooca? Minni? Pansa?"

Glarfin didn't answer.

"Pansa, I think," said Sylvi. "Her reflexes are really good. Maybe Guridon. Maybe Alsa. Certainly Lucretia. Well, lieutenant?"

Glarfin sighed."Why would I know, lady?"

"Because you would," said Sylvi. "And also because there must be some kind of rota, and you'd need to know who else is on it."

"Perhaps you could take this up with the king, lady," said Glarfin.

"Perhaps I will take it up with him later, lieutenant," said Sylvi. She thought of her father, raised her chin and stared at Glarfin, trying not to think about how quickly she would develop a crick in her neck. She considered crossing her arms, but her father never crossed his arms, so she didn't.

After a moment Glarfin said, "You are very like your father, lady. Very well. It is the five of us you have named who are the core of it. Danis or Colm is usually at your bedroom door overnight."

She'd been sure she was right, but it was still worse to have it confirmed. And she hadn't known about the night guards. "Is Ebon guarded too?"

"There are extra patrols around the pegasus house, yes," said Glarfin. "But King Lrrianay did not wish Ebon to be singled out, and there are extra patrols all round the palace since the ladon was found in Riss."

Riss was a village two leagues from the Wall. It had been known since Sylvi's grandmother's day that ladons-and probably wyverns-had returned to the wild lands, but sightings of them had continued to be agreeably rare. Sylvi had been in court the morning that the report had come in, and the queen, who had just come in to the horseyards from chasing norindours and heard the news from the stableboy who was walking the messenger's horse, paused only long enough to change her saddle to a fresh horse, reorganise her squad and send a note to her husband what she was doing before she rode straight back out again. The king had sent a note back to the horseyards that the next time the queen reappeared they were to take her saddle away away from her even if there was a sighting of forty-six rocs over Banesorrow Lake. And Sylvi knew about the extra patrols: she and Ebon had a much harder time going flying because of them. from her even if there was a sighting of forty-six rocs over Banesorrow Lake. And Sylvi knew about the extra patrols: she and Ebon had a much harder time going flying because of them.

But what she disliked most was the realisation that she was being protected not only from anyone who might want to ask her inappropriate questions about the pegasi, but from actual physical harm. She had wanted to believe that even Fthoom hadn't meant anything by his gesture that day in the king's receiving room, beyond that he was angry at not getting his own way about something. She could guess that all her guards were wearing a variety of glamour-neutralising and magic-disabling charms. She stared at Glarfin's uniform, but the charms wouldn't be anything you could see.

She wouldn't be able to browbeat Ahathin the way she had just done poor Glarfin; she wondered what Ahathin might tell her if she merely asked him what charms he kept in his pockets that he hadn't done before her twelfth birthday-what guard-magic now followed her-whether a guild spell-maker had been engaged to do the work. If so, he was a good one, because she couldn't feel it plucking at her, nipping at her heels, haunting the shadows at the corners of her eyes.

She could feel herself drooping. She wasn't really like her father.

"I'm sorry ... Sylvi," said Glarfin with an obvious effort.

"Thanks," said Sylvi, and smiled."You can call me lady when there's anyone else around, okay?"

She did ask her father why he hadn't told her that she had had a special guard a.s.signed to her. Her father looked at her thoughtfully. "I knew you'd figure it out," he said. "And I hoped that by the time you figured it out, you would be sufficiently accustomed to the situation for the realisation to be less ... dispiriting."

Sylvi was silent a moment. At last she said, "I wish you'd told me."

"Next time I will," said the king. "But you are older now: next time I would have told you anyway."

"Next time?" said Sylvi.

"There's always a next time," said the king, "unfortunately. You just don't know what it's going to be about."

And she asked Diamon if she could have Lucretia as a sparring partner-occasionally.

"She'll knock you down," said Diamon. "She's not one to pull her punches, our Lucretia."

"I know," said Sylvi. "But she could show me how she did it after, couldn't she?"

She had been a.s.signed to the development of the river network in the Kish Mountains as her special project, and so she knew that potential locations of wheels and dams were dependent as much on their defensibility as on the geography of the rivers: because there were taralians in the Kishes-and, lately, there were also norindours. There had always been a few taralians in the Kishes, which also bordered on the wild lands, but she'd been present when one of the engineers reported to Danacor that it was the worst season for taralians he'd ever seen, and he'd been working in and around the Kishes for forty years, man and boy.

"And now a ladon," he said, and shook his head. Riss lay in the foothills of the Kishes."d.a.m.ned snaky basilisk things," he said. "They make taralians look like housecats. Nearly."

Bridges, dams and water-power was interesting work-she didn't mind being good at maths when she could use it for something-and she enjoyed trying to negotiate with water and rock. She didn't like worrying about taralians.