Redoubt by Mercedes Lackey Page B

parties, but those would be held in the Great
     Houses, and the Great Houses would be taking in select guests. Tomorrow would see
     the clearing out of everyone who didn’t actually have ongoing business with the Crown
     or Collegia. And he would not be unhappy to see them all go. Although he had gotten
     much, much better with his shields, the press of so many people’s thoughts against
     them was just a trifle wearing.
    They walked quietly down the corridor to Nikolas’ quarters. Amily tapped on the door,
     then opened it. Nikolas was seated already, waiting for them, with food laid out on
     a small table. “I thought by now you’d be sick of the wedding fare,” he said, indicating
     what he’d had brought. “I asked for something a bit less fancy. You should have seen
     the cook’s face when I requested what
they
were eating.”
    Mags examined the food with approval as he helped Amily to her favorite chair and
     took one himself. Salad, some nice crusty bread, hard-boiled eggs, some soup, and
     fruit. “Never thought I’d say I was tired of pocket pies, but I’m weary of pocket
     pies,” he admitted. “Even Dallen is tired of pocket pies.”
    Amily made a face and helped herself to salad, bread, and a bowl of soup. “I’m tired
     of all the sweets. There really
is
such a thing as too much of a good thing. So, Father, I assume you know Lydia has
     invited us to sit in her gallery for the barge procession?”
    “I should be, since she consulted me about it.” He waited while they helped themselves,
     then waved his fork at them. “It occurred to me that this would be a good chance for
     Mags to take the temper of her new ladies and their parents.”
    The curtains at the windows blew in the continuing breeze. Somehow—perhaps because
     of the plantings outside the window—all the noise was muffled to a pleasant murmur.
    He nodded. “Any trouble?”
    “Not that we’ve foreseen, but it’s not going to harm anything to be sure,” Nikolas
     replied. “This is more a matter of information gathering, Mags. Unfortunately, she
     has a limited number of friends who can serve as her ladies-in-waiting. Most of the
     ones in the running for the position are the daughters of the nobly born; she does
     not personally know most of them, and all of them will be sitting in the stands tonight.
     I would very much like you two to observe them so we can at least eliminate the ones
     she absolutely will not want. Most of them know each other. Lydia is going to surround
     herself with her oldest friends just for tonight—but I want you two to sit down at
     the back and center of her stand so you can listen and observe.”
    By “listen,” of course, Nikolas also meant that Mags should keep his attention open
     for strong and malicious thoughts. Not overtly
read
minds, but if something should happen to be strong enough that it got past his primary
     shields . . .
    “Isn’t it possible there will be some sniping just because a couple of Lydia’s old
     friends are . . . well . . . rather common?” Amily asked, doubtfully. “That alone
     could give her some problems. There are some otherwise reasonable girls who are awfully
     snobbish.”
    “They won’t know.” Nikolas offered. “We’ve taken care to supply clothing for those
     who don’t have it. These are all outfits that are at least the equivalent of those
     that the potential ladies-in-waiting will be wearing,” Nikolas assured her. “And everyone
     knows to be suitably vague about their backgrounds tonight.” He smiled a little. “The
     only one who might give himself away with his speech and language is Mags, and since
     he is the Kirball hero—not to mention the hero of Amily’s rescue—”
    Mags made a face. “I could jammer like a mine-kid an’ they’d just giggle an’ say how
     charmin’ it was,” he said.
    Nikolas nodded. “I couldn’t have managed to contrive a better opportunity for you
     if I’d tried,” he said. “While