CHAPTER SIX

THE PIRATES SWARMED through the streets of Chênier, ragged shadows with black-toothed grins and flaming eyes. Madeleine shrank into a doorway as they pounded past her, but the last, a huge mountain of a man, stopped, turned, and the rotten smile broadened into a roar of glee. He grabbed her, brandishing the blade of his great crescent knife and laying it along her throat, and she screamed and screamed but all that came out was... a hoarse mew that blessedly was enough to wake her.

Madeleine sat up in bed, trying to suppress the wild pounding of her heart. She had overheard talk of pirates that night, not at the dinner table but in the private study where she had hovered in the hallway to listen. Served her right, then, for spying. It was guilt, more than fear, had brought this lurid and overwrought nightmare. So she told herself.

Her nightgown was damp with sweat, cold now in the early spring air. She slipped out of bed and groped in the chest at its foot, finding a new shift by feel in the dark room.

She would never admit it to a soul, but there were times when she missed having a nurse sleep in the room with her. Times like this one, when Rochelle would stir up the fire and chase away the night phantoms with her warm arms and sensible voice.

Since Madeleine’s thirteenth birthday so much had changed. She was a woman now, the crampy bleeding that had come for the first time last month confirming it. She loved the privacy of her room, her new, grown-up dresses and being part of the adult dinners. But she missed—well, she missed Matthieu. A gulf had opened between them, invisible but so hard to cross. Everything he said to her seemed silly or insulting. Everything she said seemed disapproving or superior. He said she was “prissy” and half the time he was right—but she didn’t mean to be.

Tonight, though, the gulf had closed up, just for a bit. She saw him again bursting into the dining room with his jacket misbuttoned and his tunic tail poking out in back. When he sat down between Madeleine and Sylvain, only the children had seen the fluffy curl of a gray breast-feather caught in the tousled hair on the back of his head. By unspoken agreement they said nothing, though Sylvain had caught his big sister’s eye with a smirk many times through the meal. Finally, at dessert, Madeleine had plucked out the feather with a flourish and planted it in Matthieu’s custard where it waved under his breath like a brave little flag. Matthieu, rising to the challenge, had snapped it a smart salute.

Smiling at the memory, Madeleine burrowed into her blankets. She could sleep now. Matthieu had chased away the pirates.

BITING THEIR LIPS with the effort, clutching onto each other’s arms for support, Mira and Marie walked slowly but steadily across the road and into Gabrielle’s outstretched arms. She felt her eyes well up at the sight, but blinked back the tears and instead gave the girls her most radiant smile. They snuggled against her, and she tugged their neat braids gently. Solemn hazel eyes looked up at her.

“You are such brave wonderful girls, and I am so proud of you.”

Shy smiles, just a little wider from Mira. It was easier to tell them apart now, and not only because she knew them better. Mira’s gait was draggy in the left leg, the result of a damaged tendon behind the knee. With use it would improve, but Gabrielle thought there would always be a lingering limp.

“You remember what I told you,” she added. “You do your stretches four times a day—at every meal and before you sleep. Do them just the way we practiced, and your legs will grow stronger and stronger.”

“They’ll do their stretches, all right.” Simon stood at the doorway to Colette’s house, his wife and mother-in-law just behind. “We’ll all see to it.”

“Then I think that’s all.” Gabrielle stood and held a hand out to each girl, and together they made their way back to the cabin. She looked now to Aline. “If there’s an unexpected setback, you know where to find me. Don’t hesitate.”

Aline was in tears now, but Simon was more practical. “We can’t begin to pay you for what you’ve done, but whatever we can pay we will.”

Gabrielle shook her head. “No, no. There is no fee. Please don’t even think of it.” She was so thankful she had never had to charge for her services. She couldn’t imagine asking these hardworking people, who had already been through so much, for money, or how she could possibly calculate a value for what she did.

“Well, you can’t go away empty-handed. Wait here a minute.” Simon disappeared behind the cabin and emerged carrying a bulging burlap sack. It squirmed and gave a muffled squawk.

“Three good chickens in here. If ye’d be so kind to give one to that Towàs fella, by way of my own thanks.”

YOLENKA FINGERED, once again, the intricate gold filigree and fine four-strand bronze plait of the necklace. It had taken Derkh a long time to figure out how to incorporate the delicate filigree highlights into the focal point of the necklace—a bold, swooping beaten bronze shape inspired by the deeply flexed wings of an eagle.

“You made this?” Amber eyes blazed at him.

Derkh nodded, a little taken aback. Yolenka looked almost angry. Maybe he’d gone too far. “Do you not like it?”

She glared at him. “What is wrong with you? Why you spend your days hammering at horse-metal and buckets, when you have gift like this?” She looked at it again, shaking her head in disbelief. “Is better than anything I ever see here. Better even than much Tarzine work. Style is...beautiful. Different.”

Yolenka stood, tossed back her tawny mane and fastened the necklace. The bronze wings spanned from one collarbone to the other, glinting gold and looking just as fabulous against her warm skin as Derkh had hoped. Gods, she took his breath away.

She stalked toward him, raised her face for a kiss that nearly brought him to his knees, and continued her lecture.

“I thank you. I mean this. Is most beautiful thing I have. But you, you are loose in the head. You do work like this, you make and sell everywhere! Nobles, rich men, all will buy! Why you hide here in this piddle town?”

Derkh said nothing as a multitude of answers swirled around in his head. Because he owed Theo, who had apprenticed him, another half-year as a journeyman was the easy answer. Because La Maronne, with its clipped accent and plain-talking country people, felt more like home than the southern town of Chênier might be another. But underlying everything was the fact that he was the son of Greffaire’s highest military commander, and “jewelry artisan” was not an occupation that even existed in his mind. It was strange enough to find himself silversmithing as a private hobby.

He was saved a reply by the appearance of his landlady. “Excusing the interruption, Mister Derkh, but you have more visitors.” She stressed the word “more” as if his sudden popularity was less than seemly. She frowned. “Very grand and handsome they are too.”

A flush of pleasure lit up Derkh’s face. There were few enough people likely to arrive as unexpected visitors to his lodgings and fewer still who could be described as “grand.”

“A tall man with dark hair, and a woman?” he asked.

The mistress nodded. “The same.”

“Bring them—” Derkh glanced around the dark little salon. He felt cramped in here already, with only Yolenka in the room. “No, never mind, we’ll come to the door to meet them.” He grinned at Yolenka.

“You wanted to meet Elves? Here’s your chance.”

“I BEAR A special invitation from the Regent of Crow Island and the Blanchette Coast.”

Greetings and introductions and small talk had all been accomplished, and they were now ensconced at a table at Yolenka’s inn, where Féolan and Gabrielle happened to be staying. It was Yolenka’s first experience as a customer there, and she was rather critical of the service.

“I do better,” she had assured them. “You eat here tomorrow, you call for me.”

Derkh stared at the elaborate scroll that Féolan had produced with a flourish.

“They want me to come?”

“Tristan made a special point of asking us to deliver the invitation personally, to make certain you come,” said Gabrielle. “He says he hasn’t seen you in years and you have still never been to the coast.”

The DesChênes family would never stop amazing him, Derkh decided. First they had all unhesitatingly befriended a wounded enemy soldier that Gabrielle brought home from the war. Now he was included in a family birthday celebration as though he were a favorite cousin.

It would be a long trip, though. “I don’t think Theo will want to let me go for so long,” he said doubtfully. The royal seal of Verdeau was impressive, but it held no authority over the citizens of La Maronne.

“I think perhaps he will,” said Féolan, producing another scroll. “This is probably the biggest order your master has ever had. You’ll be kept busy filling it, I’m afraid, but it comes on condition that the first lot be delivered by you personally and that you stay on at the Queen’s pleasure. He’ll be well compensated for your time away.”

How long had it been since he had traveled with his friends, seen new sights? Derkh was content enough with his new trade and his little town, but now his appetite for adventure awoke. Suddenly he couldn’t wait to be on the road.

“We leave in, what, just over a month?” he asked.

Gabrielle and Féolan nodded.

“I’ll be ready.”

“I too will be ready,” Yolenka announced.

Derkh stared at her, not knowing how to reply. Surely she was not inviting herself to the Queen of Verdeau’s party?

“What?” she demanded irritably. “You travel south, no? To Chênier, to Blanchette?”

It was Gabrielle who answered. “That’s right. Probably we will stay a couple of days in Chênier with my family before traveling on to the coast together.”

“I know these places. Big. Busy. Not like this piddle town. I do better there than carry ale and empty piss pots.”

Her shoulders rippled in that elaborate eloquent shrug, hands rising to complete the gesture and eyebrows lifting to pull her almond eyes into wide round innocence. “I travel with you, is all I ask. Is all right?”

“You’re more than welcome.” Gabrielle again, with a warm smile that hid her relief. Derkh didn’t feel relieved, not at all. He was thrilled to have Yolenka travel with him. His worry was that she would not come back.