Three Hands for Scorpio Read Free Page B

graciously. Once he had gone she looked to us.

    I spoke first. “What could be the root of this?”
    â€œWell may you wonder,” our mother returned. “Until we have better understanding, keep to yourselves when the company arrives. Your father has worked a half year to get this truce meeting arranged. Nothing must trouble it, for a conflict now would set fire among the tinder.”
    Our guesting duties behind us, we hurried to our own tower quarters. There Loosy and Hanna awaited us. Our court dresses were spread on the wide bed for our viewing, and behind a screen an uncovered tub and buckets of steaming water waited. Full honor was evidently to be paid the Starkadder, for the dresses were those we had worn to our own court a year earlier, and the coffer of jewels had been brought out.
    Still we felt as if we were to don steel instead of silk and satin, for Rogher’s report had given us much to think on. This strange priest, the new mistreatment of women—
    â€œThe Gurly females may have opened some portal to bring these changes about,” I observed. “Always it has seemed best to them to flatter their men, play fools before them.”
    â€œYes.” Bina straightened one lace-trimmed petticoat, as Loosy stood ready to drop another over her head. “But that was love-play, and men and maids both knew it to be such. However, if Rogher has the truth of the matter, things have passed beyond a game. Yes, Hanna”—she interrupted her answer to me to instruct her tiring-maid—“I shall want but the silver neck chain and ear-drops. We will give them satin skirts but not too much otherwise.”
    The dresses were made alike—all in the first style, but that of a year past, and at our own court. Doubtless already some new fashion had changed what was lately right to what was now dowdy. Though the gowns were cut alike, they differed in color. My full skirts were of a rich maroon, the dropshouldered bodice edged in a fall of wide lace trimming from the workroom that supplied the queen herself. Bina now stood before a long mirror, turning slowly to make sure her own swell of shot-satin, which changed with her every motion from rose to silver-gray and back again, showed to the best advantange, while Cilla had claimed a gown of bright blue.
    At last, Loosy’s and Hanna’s well-trained hands had coiled and pinned the third cascade of long black hair, fastened the last neck chain, clasped the final bracelet, and set a massive-gemmed ring on one, two, three hands.
Our toilet complete, we made court curtseys to each other and thanked the maids for their assistance.
    Hanna left, still laughing at one of Cilla’s comments, but Loosy hesitated and at last emboldened herself to speak.
    â€œLady”—she picked up a fan and offered it to Bina—“what manner of men are these clansmen who come?”
    We were all quick to catch an odd note in her voice, but Cilla was first to speak.
    â€œThey are Gurlys of a noble clan, Loosy. If they wish, they may frequent the Gurlyon court. Some of their customs may differ from ours, but not greatly. Many of their ilk, though perhaps of lower rank, have visited here over the years. You have seen them. Why think you these may be different?”
    Loosy’s cheeks flushed, and she looked down at the carpet.
    â€œT’was the peddler, Lady Cilla—the one who was here two months since. He’d been to Snarlyhoe, and he said how the lord there had women whipped through the streets.”
    â€œBe sure,” I snapped, “that the Lord of Snarlyhoe, no matter who he may be, does not rule here! Loosy, many tales are told from place to place by peddlers. And you are in our private service and so can keep to these quarters in the tower until you are sure there is no trouble to be faced. Now we must go—”
    We were descending the curling tower stair when I paused for a moment.
    â€œWhat indeed is wrong