his manhood wasn't being questioned over every dinner table or mug of beer in Shkoder.
"Which brings us back," Kovar said after a moment's silence, "to the matter at hand. Her Majesty must lay the tragedy to rest. She must make the journey to the forts."
"She knows that," Magda told him.
"But will she act on the knowledge?"
Magda tucked her hands into the wide sleeves of her Healer's robe and shrugged. "We three are her closest counselors and she knows how we feel; since she can't deal with how she feels, that may have to do."
The sound of heavy footsteps approaching drew their attention around to the door. Kovar separated the sounds and, his voice pitched to carry only within the confines of the room, announced, "Her Majesty."
The door swung open. Guards flanking her at a respectful distance, Jelena's gaze swept over healer, bard, and consort. "Is this a private meeting, or can anyone join in?"
She sounded, Kovar realized with a start, remarkably like her grandfather, the late King Theron. He'd had a way of using the same dry, very nearly sarcastic delivery to remind those around him just who, exactly, was in charge. The resemblance was disturbing, coming, as it did, from a young woman only a year or two past twenty.
"Well?"
Magda read excuses rising in Otavas' eyes and quieted him with a look.
Standing, Kovar bowed. "Your Majesty is always welcome in my office."
"Thank you. How fortunate you're all here. It'll save me the bother of repeating my decision." When she folded her arms, the royal signet flashed through a ray of sunlight slanting in from the window. "I've decided to go to the forts." Before anyone could respond, she added, "And you'll all be going with me."
* * *
Stonemasons had built Fort Kazpar and, across the water, Fort Tunov, up out of the stones of the headlands so that they seemed an extension of the cliffs. From the sea, the seam between the rock carved by the elements and the rock carved by hand was nearly invisible. By land, a small village and the well-traveled Capital Road leading up to the gate helped define the perimeter.
As Benedikt identified himself to the guard at the gate, he wondered what he'd do if he was challenged. Stop being such an idiot. Why wouldn't she believe you? No one in Shkoder ever lies about being a bard. And even if she did challenge you, it's not like you couldn't …
"So's Terezka expecting you today?"
Jerked out of his reverie, Benedikt repeated the only word he'd actually heard. "Terezka?"
"The bard who's already here."
"Terezka's here?"
Amused by his confusion, the guard nodded. "I was just talking to her, and she didn't tell me to keep an eye out for you, is all. Don't you guys usually send kigh ahead of you, or is this some kind of a surprise?"
Feeling a familiar tightening in the pit of his stomach, Benedikt straightened. "You should be expecting me. I'm here to Sing the queen's boat safely across the strait."
"You're that bard? That's wonderful!"
Somewhat taken aback, Benedikt searched her face for mockery but found only a visible complement to the pleasure that had been evident in her voice. "Why wonderful?" he questioned.
"Well if you're here to Sing the queen across the strait, then the queen's gotta be coming. Right?"
"I guess."
"You guess?" Stepping aside, she waved him through, eyes sparkling under the padded edge of her helm. "Hey, you're a bard; you don't guess, you know."
Recognizing an exit line when he heard one, Benedikt returned her smile, shoved his thumbs under his pack straps, and strode out into the sunlight of the inner bailey. It seemed that now he'd arrived, Her Majesty had no choice but to follow. It was a pleasant conceit, and he enjoyed it for a full half-dozen steps.
"Benedikt! Up here!"
He squinted toward the source of the summons and could just barely make out Terezka waving an enthusiastic greeting from the
"Which brings us back," Kovar said after a moment's silence, "to the matter at hand. Her Majesty must lay the tragedy to rest. She must make the journey to the forts."
"She knows that," Magda told him.
"But will she act on the knowledge?"
Magda tucked her hands into the wide sleeves of her Healer's robe and shrugged. "We three are her closest counselors and she knows how we feel; since she can't deal with how she feels, that may have to do."
The sound of heavy footsteps approaching drew their attention around to the door. Kovar separated the sounds and, his voice pitched to carry only within the confines of the room, announced, "Her Majesty."
The door swung open. Guards flanking her at a respectful distance, Jelena's gaze swept over healer, bard, and consort. "Is this a private meeting, or can anyone join in?"
She sounded, Kovar realized with a start, remarkably like her grandfather, the late King Theron. He'd had a way of using the same dry, very nearly sarcastic delivery to remind those around him just who, exactly, was in charge. The resemblance was disturbing, coming, as it did, from a young woman only a year or two past twenty.
"Well?"
Magda read excuses rising in Otavas' eyes and quieted him with a look.
Standing, Kovar bowed. "Your Majesty is always welcome in my office."
"Thank you. How fortunate you're all here. It'll save me the bother of repeating my decision." When she folded her arms, the royal signet flashed through a ray of sunlight slanting in from the window. "I've decided to go to the forts." Before anyone could respond, she added, "And you'll all be going with me."
* * *
Stonemasons had built Fort Kazpar and, across the water, Fort Tunov, up out of the stones of the headlands so that they seemed an extension of the cliffs. From the sea, the seam between the rock carved by the elements and the rock carved by hand was nearly invisible. By land, a small village and the well-traveled Capital Road leading up to the gate helped define the perimeter.
As Benedikt identified himself to the guard at the gate, he wondered what he'd do if he was challenged. Stop being such an idiot. Why wouldn't she believe you? No one in Shkoder ever lies about being a bard. And even if she did challenge you, it's not like you couldn't …
"So's Terezka expecting you today?"
Jerked out of his reverie, Benedikt repeated the only word he'd actually heard. "Terezka?"
"The bard who's already here."
"Terezka's here?"
Amused by his confusion, the guard nodded. "I was just talking to her, and she didn't tell me to keep an eye out for you, is all. Don't you guys usually send kigh ahead of you, or is this some kind of a surprise?"
Feeling a familiar tightening in the pit of his stomach, Benedikt straightened. "You should be expecting me. I'm here to Sing the queen's boat safely across the strait."
"You're that bard? That's wonderful!"
Somewhat taken aback, Benedikt searched her face for mockery but found only a visible complement to the pleasure that had been evident in her voice. "Why wonderful?" he questioned.
"Well if you're here to Sing the queen across the strait, then the queen's gotta be coming. Right?"
"I guess."
"You guess?" Stepping aside, she waved him through, eyes sparkling under the padded edge of her helm. "Hey, you're a bard; you don't guess, you know."
Recognizing an exit line when he heard one, Benedikt returned her smile, shoved his thumbs under his pack straps, and strode out into the sunlight of the inner bailey. It seemed that now he'd arrived, Her Majesty had no choice but to follow. It was a pleasant conceit, and he enjoyed it for a full half-dozen steps.
"Benedikt! Up here!"
He squinted toward the source of the summons and could just barely make out Terezka waving an enthusiastic greeting from the
Similar Books
Woman Walks into a Bar
Rowan Coleman
Gunship
J. J. Snow
The Portable William Blake
William Blake
Lady of Fire
Anita Mills
Under the Gun (CEP Book 3)
Harper Bentley
Inner Diva
Laurie Larsen
State of Wonder
Ann Patchett
The Cape Ann
Faith Sullivan
Bombshell (AN FBI THRILLER)
Catherine Coulter
The Wrong Sister
Kris Pearson