Tricksters Queen by Tamora Pierce Page A

he had meant to say was cut off by a yelp from the dais. Taybur left the servants' gallery at a swift pace. King Dunevon, not liking the way the game of storm the castle was proceeding, had kicked one of the young generals. A seasoned courtier even at that age, the boy he'd kicked knew better than to hit his king. He fell on Elsren instead, pounding the smaller child. The other two "generals" entered the fistfight. Dunevon jumped from his chair, shrieking with glee as all across the room female relatives converged on the dais.
    Winnamine got there first, thrusting one boy into his mother's arms and holding another by one arm as she scooped Elsren from the pile. Rubinyan started across the room for the king, but Taybur Sibigat was there ahead of him. Gently the big man hoisted the king onto one hip like an experienced nursemaid.
    When Rubinyan reached them, his face dark with anger, Taybur spoke quietly. Aly read his lips as he explained to Rubinyan, His Majesty is wearied. I'm sure Your Highness will forgive him. He missed his nap.
    Dunevon, if you can't control yourself..., Rubinyan said angrily.
    He can when he's had his nap, said Taybur, still the picture of goodwill. He walked toward the hall that led out of the building as Dunevon began to howl. Everywhere men bowed and ladies curtsied to the floor as their king passed.
    Taybur walked by the screened-in servants' gallery. "I know, I know, you're tired," he told the boy shrieking in his arms. "Any normal person would be."
    Aly pursed her lips. That the king's closest guardian was fond of him was a complication she could not like. Her mind knew that the odds were very good that Dunevon might be killed in the rebellion, Dunevon and maybe even Elsren. She did not want the painful cost of those two young lives on her conscience and heart.
    "I hope you weren't looking for romance in that area," Vereyu said as she took Taybur's place next to Aly. "He lets nothing get in the way of his duty to the king. A number of our young ladies have sighed over it repeatedly since he left off courting them."
    "I don't sigh very well," Aly replied. "And I've no idea why he singled me out." She continued to scan the room as it quieted and nursemaids came to take charge of the king's young companions. Rihani took Elsren and Petranne back to the Robing Pavilion, chatting with the maid who half carried a still-protesting lordling. Dove had not stirred from her spot between Baron Engan and Duke Nomru. Reading their lips, Aly realized they were talking about the meager winter rice crop. She shook her head. Dove had the strangest interests.
    A muttering from the other servants drew Aly's attention to the corridor that led to the main entrance. An immortal made its way into the hall where the regents sat. Aly stared at the unmistakable creature visible through the carved screen as it walked over to Princess Imajane. Even the nobles were turning to stare at the basilisk, some nervously, some in wonder. He was seven feet tall, which was average for a basilisk, with gray skin as pebbly as if it were made of beads. A hint of folds at his chin told the observer that he was young, with only two or three centuries on him. He wore a chain with a loop on it around his belly, to keep his lengthy tail from dragging on the ground. His eyes were gray and wise, with a cat's slit pupils. He bowed gracefully to the princess and the ladies around her.
    Aly reminded herself to gape as if she'd never seen a basilisk. This was not just any basilisk. This basilisk Aly knew as well as she knew her family.
    "He is a basilisk," one of the other maids told Aly. The smug superiority on her face made it plain that she thought Aly gawped like a country bumpkin. "The monarchs of Tortall sent him with gifts to honor His Majesty's ascension to the throne and the regents' appointment. Wonderful toys that wind up and walk about, and gems for Their Highnesses. You don't see that many basilisks, even here at court." She sighed. "He's