was over, he watched carefully until he saw Vandaris leave, then quickly made his excuses to the bald nobleman he had been talking to and hurried after her.
He almost ran over her in the hall outside; she was walking more slowly than he’d expected. Eltiron stammered an apology, and Vandaris shook her head.
“If you make a habit of charging through the castle like a dragon in heat, I hope you’re good enough with a sword to win all the duels you’ll get into. It’s a good thing I’m tolerant, not to mention a relative. What’s away?”
“I want to talk to you,” Eltiron said as he fell into step beside her. “Where have you been?”
Vandaris grinned. “Planning for trouble. Which means I’ve been busy, and it will probably get worse. If you want to talk, you’d better do it now.”
“All right. Why didn’t you tell me you knew something more about Jermain?”
“Not here, crack skull! It’s too easy for conversations to be overheard in these halls. This way.”
Vandaris started down a side passage, and Eltiron followed. She proceeded to lead him, by a more circuitous route than he had ever imagined possible in Leshiva Castle, to her chambers. Tarilane was sitting at a table inside, frowning intently at a large, leather-bound book lying open in front of her. She looked up as they entered.
“Vandi! Did it—” She stopped abruptly as she saw Eltiron behind Vandaris.
“Did it work, you mean? Yes and no.” Vandaris dropped into a chair with a sigh, and motioned Eltiron to sit down.
Tarilane looked from Vandaris to Eltiron, closed the book, and stood up. “I suppose I should leave?”
“No, so you can stop getting ready to sulk and sit down. I want to know what luck you’ve been having, among other things, but we’ll get to that in a minute,” Vandaris said.
Tarilane nodded and sat down, her eyes shining with excitement and her back very straight. Vandaris turned to Eltiron. “Now, you wanted to ask me something?”
“What have you found out about Jermain?”
“Nothing at all.”
Eltiron stared. “But you told Father—”
“I lied,” Vandaris said cheerfully.
“Why?”
“I want to know who has a guilty conscience. The easiest way for me to find out is to convince whoever it is that it’s a good idea to worry about me, which I have now done. I hope.”
“Do you really think someone will fall for that old trick?”
“Who cares if it’s an old trick, as long as it works? And even if it doesn’t, I managed to get through one of Marreth’s dinners without being bored, and that’s something.”
“What if someone sends an assassin after you, or a spell, or something?”
“I’ve taken care of assassins before, and I don’t expect anyone to use magic in Sevairn,” Vandaris said uncommunicatively.
“Someone already has,” Eltiron said, remembering the red thing they had found on the tower.
“Really?” Tarilane looked at Vandaris. “You didn’t tell me.”
“There are lots of things I don’t tell you, sponge brain. You’re too nosy, and you talk too much.”
“I do not!”
“You’re talking too much right now,” Vandaris said pointedly.
Tarilane subsided.
Eltiron looked at Vandaris. “Are you sure—”
“Would I be risking my neck if I weren’t? Quit worrying; it’s too late to do anything about it anyway, and I have quite a few tricks you don’t know about.”
Eltiron shook his head. “As long as you’re sure it’s all right. But if you don’t really know anything about Jermain, what are you going to tell Father tomorrow?”
“That Mournwal’s arming. That’ll make him forget about Jermain in a hurry, believe me.”
“But Father doesn’t believe the Hoven-Thalar are coming north; why would he believe Mournwal’s getting ready for them?”
“He doesn’t have to. As long as he thinks the King of Mournwal is planning to invade Sevairn, he’ll call up the army and start it moving south, and that’s all we really want him to
He almost ran over her in the hall outside; she was walking more slowly than he’d expected. Eltiron stammered an apology, and Vandaris shook her head.
“If you make a habit of charging through the castle like a dragon in heat, I hope you’re good enough with a sword to win all the duels you’ll get into. It’s a good thing I’m tolerant, not to mention a relative. What’s away?”
“I want to talk to you,” Eltiron said as he fell into step beside her. “Where have you been?”
Vandaris grinned. “Planning for trouble. Which means I’ve been busy, and it will probably get worse. If you want to talk, you’d better do it now.”
“All right. Why didn’t you tell me you knew something more about Jermain?”
“Not here, crack skull! It’s too easy for conversations to be overheard in these halls. This way.”
Vandaris started down a side passage, and Eltiron followed. She proceeded to lead him, by a more circuitous route than he had ever imagined possible in Leshiva Castle, to her chambers. Tarilane was sitting at a table inside, frowning intently at a large, leather-bound book lying open in front of her. She looked up as they entered.
“Vandi! Did it—” She stopped abruptly as she saw Eltiron behind Vandaris.
“Did it work, you mean? Yes and no.” Vandaris dropped into a chair with a sigh, and motioned Eltiron to sit down.
Tarilane looked from Vandaris to Eltiron, closed the book, and stood up. “I suppose I should leave?”
“No, so you can stop getting ready to sulk and sit down. I want to know what luck you’ve been having, among other things, but we’ll get to that in a minute,” Vandaris said.
Tarilane nodded and sat down, her eyes shining with excitement and her back very straight. Vandaris turned to Eltiron. “Now, you wanted to ask me something?”
“What have you found out about Jermain?”
“Nothing at all.”
Eltiron stared. “But you told Father—”
“I lied,” Vandaris said cheerfully.
“Why?”
“I want to know who has a guilty conscience. The easiest way for me to find out is to convince whoever it is that it’s a good idea to worry about me, which I have now done. I hope.”
“Do you really think someone will fall for that old trick?”
“Who cares if it’s an old trick, as long as it works? And even if it doesn’t, I managed to get through one of Marreth’s dinners without being bored, and that’s something.”
“What if someone sends an assassin after you, or a spell, or something?”
“I’ve taken care of assassins before, and I don’t expect anyone to use magic in Sevairn,” Vandaris said uncommunicatively.
“Someone already has,” Eltiron said, remembering the red thing they had found on the tower.
“Really?” Tarilane looked at Vandaris. “You didn’t tell me.”
“There are lots of things I don’t tell you, sponge brain. You’re too nosy, and you talk too much.”
“I do not!”
“You’re talking too much right now,” Vandaris said pointedly.
Tarilane subsided.
Eltiron looked at Vandaris. “Are you sure—”
“Would I be risking my neck if I weren’t? Quit worrying; it’s too late to do anything about it anyway, and I have quite a few tricks you don’t know about.”
Eltiron shook his head. “As long as you’re sure it’s all right. But if you don’t really know anything about Jermain, what are you going to tell Father tomorrow?”
“That Mournwal’s arming. That’ll make him forget about Jermain in a hurry, believe me.”
“But Father doesn’t believe the Hoven-Thalar are coming north; why would he believe Mournwal’s getting ready for them?”
“He doesn’t have to. As long as he thinks the King of Mournwal is planning to invade Sevairn, he’ll call up the army and start it moving south, and that’s all we really want him to
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