When the business in the arena-field was over and the crowd began to disperse, Tahlia gave a great sigh of relief. It had taken an age to finish, even after the Pride-commanders had made their challenges and counter challenges and whatever. There had been a great fuss as they remounted their steeds and led their Chapters back out of the field, and by then the excitement around her was beginning to get tiresome.
Her brother was being particularly annoying, his eyes bright as he continuously slapped his fist into the palm of his hand.
"What is wrong with you!" she said, elbowing him in the arm.
"Father will stand!" he said, clearly elated.
"Of course he will stand. I always knew he would."
Her brother did not reply and simply pushed himself into the crowd, away from her.
Tahlia was just in the process of figuring out how to make her own escape from the maddening throng, when a familiarly heavy, beringed hand fell on her shoulder.
"Lady Tahlia," came Mistress Oleander's strict voice. "Before you sneak away, your mother has requested your presence in her chambers."
"I was not about to sneak away," said Tahlia.
"Of course you were not," said Mistress Oleander, her hand tightening on her shoulder.
* * * * *
"That could not have gone better," said Karek as he led his brothers through the eager, chattering crowds.
Larrad also seemed in good humour at the result of the challenges.
"What'll we do now?" he said. "I fancy some time at the Encampment."
"That's where I'm off to," said Karek. "But for duty, I'm afraid. The people are in high spirits, which will doubtless lead them to the wine tents, and we all know how that ends. My Section-commander wants the peace kept."
"I've got work as well," said Maddock.
"Thought you'd got time off," said Larrad, clearly disappointed.
"Sprak wants me this afternoon, to help clean this place up."
He stepped over a pile of madriel dung that had been trodden into the arena-field's grass. The afternoon's work would not be easy.
Larrad sidestepped another pile of dung.
"So what am I supposed to do with my time?"
"Amuse yourself," said Karek. "The Encampment is yours."
"Easy for you to say. I've got no money."
Karek rolled his eyes and reached into the pouch at his belt.
"Here." He flicked his brother a dark metal coin. "Have fun. Spend it on what you want. I'll have plenty more tomorrow."
"You hope."
"I know," Karek said, and grinned.
* * * * *
When Tahlia entered her mother's chambers, she appeared to be in a better mood than she had been for some time. Not happy as such, but she did seem to possess a renewed focus of a sort that Tahlia had not seen in her for quite a while. Her maid was busy laying dresses out on the bed, while Kralmir's nursemaid hurried back and forth between the bed and the heavy jewellery chest, selecting necklaces and earrings. She would hold each item against each dress, while her mother assessed the combinations critically. After half an hour of such activity, her mother tutted loudly and sent Tahlia in search of her seamstress for a reason she could in no way fathom.
Still, she did as she was told, so as not to unbalance her mother's sudden improvement in mood, and when she returned with the woman, her mother ordered her to her own room to change into her neatest dress. The order was followed by further commands to keep the dress clean and in one piece, for the ceremony at the temple that evening.
"What ceremony?" Tahlia asked.
"You know what ceremony, child! You have been schooled! The Chapters are to have their new positions sanctioned. Then your father and Commander Galder are to receive Fortak's blessing before their contest tomorrow. This is an important day for him, and I do not want you to be the cause of any embarrassment."
"Of course not, mother," Tahlia said guilelessly, but her mother was not fooled. She took her strongly by the chin and held her so she could not turn her eyes away.
"Promise me, daughter. Today of all days. Do as you are told."
"I promise, mother."
Her mother seemed satisfied, and sent her on her way.
When she entered the young ladies' quarters, she found them in excited uproar as their inhabitants readied themselves for the evening. Girls, particularly the older ones who, in Tahlia's opinion, should have shown a little more decorum, ran between each other's rooms, wearing one dress or another, all chatting eagerly about whether the dress matched their hair or their jewellery or whatever. Tahlia finally made it to her room through the girlish glee and slammed the door behind her on the noise, only to find one of the quarter's maids waiting for her. Her best dress was laid out on the bed, and a basket of brushes and combs was sitting on her dresser.
"Oh no, not the hair," she sighed.
"I'm afraid so, my lady," said the maid with equal resignation.
So, after what felt like an hour of tugging with combs, followed by platting and pinning, Tahlia managed to escape the maid's ministrations, and went in search of her mother. She was not in her quarters, or in the solarium, where the other ladies were gathering in their finest dresses, so she went to the gardens. There the terraces were beginning to fill with knights, dressed equally as finely as their ladies. Tahlia, feeling uncomfortable in her tightly pinned hair and stiff dress, stood in the shadow of a high eroni hedge, wondering what to do with herself.
By all the accounts she had heard, the ceremony at the temple would not take place until that evening, which meant she would have to occupy herself for the whole afternoon without getting into a mess. She sighed at the prospect.
Looking around, she noted that many of the knights and their ladies were sipping wine or eating pastries and other delectable, so she decided to go in search of their source. Thankfully, she had managed to take her belt and its tatty pouch from her room without the maid noticing, so she would be able to stock up on rations and then find a nice quiet place, somewhere out of the way.
She was about to set off on her little mission when she saw something that made her frown.
Tasker.
He was making his way along one of the lower terraces, dressed in his burgundy squire's uniform. There were other squires in the gardens so his presence was not that unusual, but Tahlia wondered why he was not down at the arena-field, in Sir Galder's attendance.
She watched him suspiciously as he passed down the terraces. He seemed to be making for the chain-carriage station, so maybe he was simply going to attend to his duties as he should have been. Still, it would do no harm to follow him and make sure. So, with thoughts of a snack forgotten, she set off in pursuit.
When she reached it, the chain-carriage station was not very busy, and as she spiralled down the stairs beneath the gear house, she saw Tasker at the platform's end, waiting for the next carriage to arrive.
There were a few knights and their ladies on the platform, but there were precious few of them to provide adequate concealment, and she had barely reached the bottom of the steps when Tasker turned in her direction. She was sure he looked straight at her, but he did not acknowledged her and simply looked away as though he didn't even recognise her.
Tahlia frowned and looked down at her dress, still pristine and unstained. She assumed that her hair must be similarly immaculate.
She smiled to herself, but did not want to stretch her luck, so she remained at the platforms' nearest end, hidden behind the billowing expanse of an elderly lady's skirts.
When the carriage arrived, she made sure to enter last and took a seat at the back, as far from Tasker as she could get. It seemed her assumptions were correct as Tasker, upon leaving the lower station, headed straight across the arena-field towards Sir Galder's burgundy tent. She lingered on the terrace and watched the distant squire, her suspicions slowly dwindling. But then, when Tasker reached Sir Galder's pavilion, rather than going straight inside, he looked about himself in a highly suspicious manner, then he ducked behind the tent and disappeared.
Tahlia made her way politely though the crowds to the terrace's steps, but when she reached the grass of the arena-field, she started to run. When she reached it and peered cautiously around the side of Sir Galder's tall pavilion, the loathsome boy was nowhere in sight. She decided to have a closer look behind the tent, but when she tried to step nimbly beneath the tent's ropes, the tightness of her dress' bodice made it near impossible for her to bend, and so she first caught her hair, and then lost her balance and fell inelegantly into the grass.
She huffed through her nose and crawled on until she was fully behind the tent. She could still see no sign of Tasker, but there was something partly concealed under the very edge of the tent's bright canvas. She reached under and pulled out a shabby looking sack, and when she emptied it out onto the ground she found a burgundy squire's uniform.
She looked about herself.
Backed against Sir Galder's pavilion were the tents of his soldiers, and beyond those were the tents of his lower Echelon knights, closely packed together, the narrow areas of grass between them criss-crossed by ropes. These alleyways were not intended as paths, but someone had passed along them. Tahlia had received only the most rudimentary lessons in hunting, but it did not take an expert to see where the grass had been flattened in places by someone's recent passage.
She gave a satisfied smile and made to follow, but the smile swiftly vanished when she came to the first of the criss-crossing ropes blocking her path.
"Damn this thing!" she muttered as she fiddled with the ribbons at the back of her dress' bodice.
Fortunately, whichever cloud-brained seamstress had designed the dress had decided that the uncomfortable article's lacings should be tied in a big looping bow, so it was not difficult to get the thing unfastened and pull it off. She hid the bodice carefully beneath a nearby tent, figuring that she could always come back for it later and have it back on before her mother even knew.
She fastened her belt over the dress in its place and set off, following Tasker's trail, though the length of the dress still made the going slow. It had been designed for swishing down corridors, not clambering among tent ropes, but she pushed on and soon she left the tents of the knights and found herself at the outer fringes of the Encampment.
Where she lost the trail.
The narrow spaces behind the knight's pavilions had been untraveled, but it seemed that here they were used more frequently to access the many ramshacked tents where people slept, so the grass between them was wholly flattened by their passage.
"Oh, bother and buggeration!" said Tahlia, looking around for any sigh of Tasker.
Then she brightened. It did not really matter that she had lost the boy's trail. After all, she could guess where he was going. Before she carried on, she did consider the possibility that what she was doing might not be such a good idea, but the concern quickly passed. After all, what was the worst that could happen?
* * * * *
The Lady Tahlessa was happy.
Only the day before, the thought of her husband entering the jousting ring to face Commander Galder's lance had filled her with a heavy dread, but now all that she felt was the more familiar thrill of anticipation. Kralaford had taken a heavy burden upon himself, but the difficulties of the task ahead of him did not trouble her. She could do nothing to aid him in the jousting ring, save give him her strength for what would come after, and that task no longer seemed as insurmountable as it had.
The weight was gone from her heart, and the darkness from her mind. She did not even recognise the woman she had been the day before.
Her happiness, however, was marred.
"She was in the garden not a half hour ago," said The Ladies' Warden. "I saw her there myself."
Tahlessa paced to her chamber's window and looked out as though it would provide a view of her daughter's hiding place, but instead all she saw were Klinberg's dark towers, and the sky all around.
How could she do this? Today of all the days!
"I had a mind to post a guard to watch her, but I believed that today being one of such importance, she would not be displaying her usual..."
Mistress Oleander's lips twitched as she sought a tactful ending to the sentence.
"Disobedience," Lady Tahlessa finished for her.
"Indeed."
Tahlessa turned from the window.
"Continue your search, Mistress Warden, and find me when you have news. I will be in the Gardens with Lady Kell and the other Commanders' wives."
She crossed the room, the hem of her long dress sweeping over the rugs of the chamber floor, including the largest one beside the bed that, though it had been thoroughly scrubbed, still held a stain of black blood caught in its weave.
"I am sure that when you find her she will have reasons for her absence."
A mask of tactful courtesy fell over Mistress Oleander's face.
"I am sure that she will, my lady."
* * * * *
Tahlia awoke to the sound of angry voices.
"You are a fool, Vlambra," said one, which was deep and confident, though edged with irritation. "Why would you do this?"
She opened her eyes, but her vision swam violently and a band of light stabbed painfully at her, so she closed them again.
How had she got here?
Where was here?
Her head span in the darkness, and the sound of voices rose and fell in waves so the conversation came to her in pieces, along with patches of memory.
"I told you; she was sneaking around out back. She might have been seeing something."
She had found her way to the back of the enclave surrounding the merchant's tent that the Field-hand had seen Tasker going into.
"You should have let her sneak. There is nothing here for her to find, apart from our friend here, and his very talents lie in the ability not to be seen. Now, what do you think they will do if they find the daughter of Sir Kralaford missing? You are a fool, Vlambra."
She had found a clearing behind the tent, where bolts of canvas and empty sacks had been piled.
She attempted to open her eyes again, and this time the pain was not so great. She was lying on her side on the tragasaur tarp floor of a tent. Around her were piled crates and heavy bags, but directly in front of her she could see the bottom edge of the tent where it was pegged to the ground.
A strip of bright light showed beneath the tent's canvas, and it was that which had stabbed her eyes with pain the first time she had opened them.
She remembered hunting around the clearing, looking for a way to get easily into the tent.
"We are too close for this sort of idiocy."
She tried to focus on her surroundings. She had a strange medicinal feeling at the back of her throat, and a tight pain in the side of her neck. The voices were coming from somewhere close behind her, and she thought she recognised both of them from somewhere. She closed her eyes, and the voices drifted away as numbness folded over her. She felt like she was falling and she snapped her eyes open, the voices suddenly growing loud.
"Well I just saw her out there and thought it best to be sending it out to bring her in."
She felt her heart beat faster.
An innocuous pile of empty sacks at her elbow, suddenly moving, leaping towards her and unfolding grey limbs.
"You risked our associate here for little reason."
Tahlia heard something moving over the crates that were piled around her, and quickly closed her eyes again. She was regaining her senses, and could hear music close by, along with the sound of large crowds moving about.
A dry clicking sound came from directly above her, and went on in a fashion that almost sounded like speech.
"Oh, I know how adept you are at evading detection, but that is not the point. If you were seen and reported to the Order they would tear this place apart to find you."
The clicking voice came again in reply.
With her eyes closed, Tahlia found it hard to keep her mind focused on the voices, and the sounds around her started drifting away again. She was brought back from the haze by the voice of Vlambra.
"...why are you not sending word to him? Ask him what to do with her?"
Him! Who is him?
"Because he won't be happy. This wasn't part of the plan. She's my problem now, but it is fortunate that, from what the boy has told me, our furtive little friend here, as well as being places where she is not supposed to be, also has a habit of not being in places where she is supposed to be. There is a chance she will not be missed for the rest of the day, and by tonight it will not matter. We will have her brother..."
Tahlia tried to focus, but felt herself drifting inexorably away into hazy dullness before Vlambra's voice snapped her back again.
"It is looking like an unnecessary risk if you are asking me. I am still not content at the thought of having to hide down in that stinking place for I do not know how long."
"We have no choice."
The dry clicking voice interjected something.
"Yes, and if you and your associates had carried out your original duty as agreed, then this night's work would not be necessary. We must continue as planned. Have you given the boy his instructions and sent him on his way?"
"Yes. I am not liking it, though. He is far too cocky about being able to get to Hakansa."
"Don't worry about him. Everything we have anticipated so far has passed. You just concentrate on your duties. They are simple enough."
"That is an easy thing for you to be saying. It is me that is to be taking the risks."
"Enough! I have heard enough of your worries. Our problem now is what to do with this girl."
The rasping voice came again, no longer directly above her, but some way behind, along with the owners of the other two voices.
"Well you would say that," replied the deep voice. "You're an assassin."
"Well we could though," came the voice of Vlambra. "Just kill her and be done with it. It would be saving a lot of trouble."
Tahlia's heart flinched, and a cold flash suddenly coursed through her skin. Though she tried to stay completely still, she must have given some involuntary movement because the voices stopped abruptly.
"She can't hear us can she?" said the deep voice.
The sound of the dry clicking voice came again.
Tahlia was aware of movement in the tent behind her, and she closed her eyes quickly, trying to make her body relax and to steady her breathing. Her vision no longer swam in the darkness with her eyes closed. She was aware of someone leaning over her, and of warm stale breath on her cheek.
"No, she is still out," came a voice, right by her ear.
"Get out of the way, Vlambra," said the deep voice. "Our friend here can nip her again and make sure. Then we can decide what to do with her, one way or the other."
"There is always the river," Vlambra said, his voice receding. "Throw her in there and she will be gone in no time, and if they are finding her, it will look like she fell in."
"That plan has its merits. Sometimes you surprise me, Vlambra."
The memory suddenly struck into Tahlia's mind of the terror she had felt on that afternoon when the rains had come, as the wave of rushing water had swept her from her feet and pulled her beneath the waters of the river. She could only remember a few horrific details of what came after, the least of which were the feel of the water filling her mouth and nose. Then the suffocating darkness as it had surrounded her and swiftly closed over and spun her around so that she had not been able to tell up from down.
She heard something moving towards her over the tent floor.
The realisation that she could be returned to the river and its dark waters spurned her brain and body to action. One of her hands was already lying at her waist and so, careful to make sure the movement could not be seen from behind her, she undid the strings of the pouch at her belt.
She felt something touch her shoulder.
With no further hesitation, she sprang from where she was lying and threw herself towards the wall of the tent.