52

"Boz, you are a nincompoop, and a blind one at that. He doesn't look anything like the Prince."

"Okay, Salisha, nunna that cra- ah...bunk. You saw the kid. He's the Prince's double."

"Sure, if the Prince had brown hair, yellow eyes and a perpetually snarky expression."

"Stop bein' so damn smug. Look, even Dinn was taken in. You goin' to say your precious General's a nincompoop?"

"He...must have had dust in his eyes."

"He did not."

"Or, no, wait, he didn't want to make you look bad."

Boz, examining a short hanger he'd appropriated from our armory, jabbed its hilt at me. "You wait until you've seen the kid in the wig, okay? You'll be fooled too."

In all honesty, the bandit leader did bear an odd resemblance to the Prince, coloration and expression aside. Earlier that evening, he and several of his bandits had been sneaked into Sable. Father had immediately convened with them and the royals. I'd asked to join in, even just observe, but Father had refused to let me. Apparently the situation was too "delicate". Shocked and angry, I'd waited until their meeting was over to vent my emotions on the first available target. It being good-natured Boz, I was having difficulty staying angry, though a constant frustration steamed just under the surface. Father had closeted himself with Dinn, the Prince, the bandit and Lady Sialeeds, so I had no chance of getting to him and demanding explanations. When I asked what the five of them were up to, Boz just said that there was some plan. "Sialeeds came up with it, something to clear the Prince's name, I think."

I folded my arms. "It'll take something spectacular."

Boz shot me a look. "You're in a grand snit. Oh well." He clapped me on the shoulder, nearly knocking me over. "Everythin's gonna be fine. I tell ya, I'm feelin' good about this."

My throbbing shoulder did nothing to soothe my mood. Father and the others emerged from his study in less than an hour. Several of Dinn's men were escorting the bandits to lower rooms, where (I presumed) they were being hidden. I waited just long enough for the royals to walk into their own apartments before I rounded on Father. "Well?"

Father and Dinn looked up from their conversation. Though I was probably interrupting an important exchange, Dinn fell respectfully silent. But Father tightened the corners of his mouth in a just-discernible grimace. "Yes, Salisha?" He said both words carefully.

I frowned up at him. "I'm sorry to interrupt you, Father. But you could've saved time by allowing me to observe." I couldn't maintain the haughty tone, my voice climbing towards petulance. "Why didn't you? Why did you leave me out?"

"I already told you," Father said, also dropping the frostiness. "The situation was precarious enough, but with the royals present... I didn't want to risk any false moves."

"I would've kept quiet!"

Father tried to smile. "These goings-on would tempt anyone to shout."

"Exactly! You can't tell me Lady Sialeeds kept a civil tongue."

"Lady Sialeeds is royalty," Father said simply. "She has the authority to speak her mind."

"But- I still could have-" I glanced at Dinn.

He bowed -"My lord, Lady Salisha,"- and walked away.

I wanted to call after him "That was a supplicating glance, not a dismissive one!" but I still had Father to deal with.

However, I had run my gallop to a walk. "Father...I..."

Father put his hands on my shoulders. "You'll notice I had the bandits smuggled in when Grand wouldn't be around to see them. I didn't want him at this meeting either. It's not just you."

I stared at him, trying to find anything reassuring in his words. "You don't value Grand's judgment. You're always disagreeing with him. So that means you don't-"

"I value your judgment," Father said quickly. "You're just... callow. I'd like you to have more experience before you handle politics of this caliber."

I looked at his chin, not his eyes. "Sun knows I'll get it, the longer this war goes on."

"Yes," Father said bleakly. "Yes, this war...Well, we can pray it will be over soon." But his expression was still grim as he moved to return to his study.

"Father -what's the plan? For restoring the Prince's good name?"

Father paused, hand on the knob. "Ah...well, the Prince and Lady Sialeeds are still hammering it out. They think they'll be ready to put it in effect tomorrow."

"May I-" I struggled to keep my tone even, "-observe?"

Father grimaced again. "No -I -No," he said more firmly. Obviously I was not keeping my face expressionless. "It will be taking place in a large crowd, and too much could go wrong. You would be in danger."

"Surely the Prince will be there. You can't say he's less important than I am!"

Father shook his head. "You can't defend yourself."

"But I suppose you'll be there?"

Father's frostiness was back. "I will not. I trust Dinn to act accordingly."

Oh. So Dinn was involved, was he? Well then.

Dinn was in his room, sitting on his bed, sewing up a rip in one of his tunics. He stood when I entered, putting the tunic to one side. "My lady?"

I was too upset for a friendly preamble. "What is Lady Sialeeds' plan?"

Dinn looked startled. "Well, we-"

I slumped and sighed heavily. "I'm sorry."

Dinn was miles out to sea. "...Sorry, my lady?"

"For being so rude. I-" No wonder Father hadn't wanted me there, I couldn't even conduct a civil conversation. With an effort, I collected myself. "What did the bandit leader say? Why was he impersonating the Prince?"

Dinn seemed relieved to be back on solid ground. "It's a bit of a story. Roy -the leader- was hired by the Barows family."

I was surprised for just a second. "Well, that clears up the motive. They wanted revenge on the Prince for ruining their good name." I picked up the tunic and examined the rip. "What else?"

"It appears their liaison has been none other than Lord Euram." Dinn paused. "A foolish young man. He would have done better to work through contacts. Still, it makes our job easier. Lady Sialeeds wants to unmask him publicly. He and Roy have been planning to stage a heroic 'capture', and Lady Sialeeds is sure it will happen right at Sable's gates."

I looked up expectantly.

"That's all I know so far," Dinn said. "She says she needs to work out the details. Apparently I'm going to have a role in it." He looked vaguely troubled for a moment.

I examined his needlework. Really, his stitches were almost as good as mine. "Did your mother teach you?'

Dinn raised his eyebrow at my abrupt change of topic, then looked amused. "She did. She says that ever since I was crawling, I was ripping holes in my clothes. When I was eight, she couldn't take it anymore, so she taught me how to mend them myself."

"Being a soldier can't be good for your clothes," I said vaguely. "Well...good luck tomorrow. You'll tell me about it? Father doesn't want me nearby when important things are happening."

"He doesn't want you in danger."

"Mm," was the best answer I had. I knew that, of course. Why did I have a bodyguard? Why had I been sent north to the capital during the war eight years ago? Why was I so used to the presence of soldiers? My father hated battle, always wanted to keep me away from the bloodshed, but with Godwin in the north and Armes in the south, it seemed so pointless. And I felt so self-pitying.

I had a sudden urge to be outside, moving fast, despite the late hour. "Come for a ride with me?"

I wasn't in the mood to admire how quickly Dinn adjusted to my erratic conversation. "I'm afraid not, my lady. As soon as I finish with that-" he nodded at the tunic, "-I need to start preparing for deployment."

I was confused and looked it.

"Your father will be joining the Prince's cause at the first opportunity. I want the men ready to ride as soon as possible."

I was about to ask if he'd be going with them, but I already knew the answer and didn't want to hear it. "Of course, I see. I suppose it wouldn't be wise to go riding at night right now anyway." I sighed. "You get to work on that. I'll finish this."

"My lady-"

"Honestly, Dinn, you're the General, you have more important things to do than mending."

"My lady, I-"

"Your lady insists. And if you protest further, she will embroider a solid three inches of daisies around the hem."

Dinn opened his mouth, hesitated, then closed it. "Forgive me, my lady. You must not resort to that. My men would riot." He paused. "They'd all want daisies too.'

When Mother came in to say goodnight, she found me sitting on my bed, bent over Dinn's tunic. He hadn't been joking. He really had a genius for destroying good cloth.

"Salisha -are you mending to pass the time?"

I glanced around my room, at Fields of Flames lying pages-down on my cover. "I need something to do with my hands."

"Restless, huh?" She stroked my hair. "It's hard to relax these days."

"This helps," I said.

"That's good." She kissed the top of my head. "Good night." She turned and went out the door...

...and came back three minutes later with a large basket full of ripped clothing. "Here," she said, setting it with a huff on my bed. "This should do you a lot of good." Not even registering my incredulous look, she smiled sleepily. "Sweet dreams." And she left again, shutting the door softly behind her.

Despite my dismay, I didn't stop with Dinn's tunic. I was restless, worried, especially about Dinn. Three hours and eleven items of clothing passed before I felt ready to sleep, and even then I was awake too soon before dawn.