The Protectors war

Sam Aylward might have been a better choice in the unlikely event something went violently wrong, but possibly not, and he was off organizing the trip back to Dun Juniper. Liu ignored Astrid as if she were a wall ornament; but then, there had never been any doubt about his nerve, and he knew her safe-conduct was good.

It was disorienting to see a child beaming at him, though. Hard it is to think of anyone actually liking Eddie Liu: I suppose some people must, though. His mother, perhaps; and he has a wife and children of his own. And it would serve his ends to have Mathilda his friend from childhood, which he's smart enough to recognize.

Mathilda was indifferent to the boxes of clothing, but she gave a cry of delight when the carrying case with the airholes was opened. A mewling growl came from within; she lifted out a large, black, very unhappy cat and cried: "Saladin!"

They don't travel well, Juniper thought, watching the beast's mad lemon yellow eyes and noting its ruffled fur and bottled tail. Particularly in a box strapped to a pack-saddle.

"That tom is fixed, isn't he?" she asked.

It was unlikely to be much happier in Dun Juniper, away from its territory and forced into association with a half-dozen strange felines. Spraying was something she didn't need. What had Mike called cats once? Little furry Republicans.

"Oh, yes," Mathilda said, lifting it up under the fore-limbs, which made its hind pair splay open. "And he's a good cat. Well, he likes to break things and claws furniture sometimes and he'll bite if he doesn't like the way anyone but me pets him, and he sort of hates other cats, but apart from that he's a good cat."

He's a cat with murder on his mind, Juniper thought, amused, noting ears laid back and whiskers bristling and claws slipping out of their sheathes. Even if he lets you hold him like that normally, he's not in the mood right now, by the cats who draw Freya's chariot!

"Better put him back in the box for now," she said.

"The other Kat's waiting," Liu said, with a hint of a nasty edge to his smile.

Mathilda's brows went up. "Dad sent Katrina?" she said, surprise in her voice. "Oh, that's OK," she said, turning to Juniper. "She's one of my tutors. Not my na

Juniper nodded, slightly surprised that either of the Armingers would show a servant that much consideration, and made a gesture of assent. Liu bowed and went to open the door. A woman came through: youngish, of medium height, with hair cropped to a halo of black curls, a rather hard good-looking face, and impassive blue eyes. She was dressed in practical traveling garb, not the trailing dresses upper-crust females in the Protectorate usually affected.

"Lady Katrina," Liu said, inclining his head.

"My lord," she replied distantly, returning the gesture. Then a genuine smile for Mathilda: "Hi, sprout! You OK?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Mathilda said, a little of the old waspish note in her voice. "Sure. You, Kat?"

"You bet, sprout, except that we're both in bad company here."

"Oh, they're not so bad, for rebels," Mathilda said generously. "Sort of weird, but OK. Did you hear about Rudi and the horse nobody else could ride?"

"Yes. Did you see it?"

"No." Mathilda pouted slightly and kicked at the floor. "I was watching this guy with a dog that climbed up a ladder." More brightly: "But Rudi showed me the horse later. Hey, it's a real pretty horse!"

"That's good; I've got Lion with me for you to ride, by the way. Everyone's been treating you properly?"

"Well, not properly like Mom and the people back home do. But nobody's been mean to me at all and sometimes things are fun. I just miss home and Mom and Dad and everyone."

Katrina bent the knee to Juniper. "Katrina Georges, Lady Juniper," she said.

Juniper cocked an eye at the way the young woman moved. "Pleased to meet you," she said, and extended a hand.

Georges looked uncertain for a moment whether Juniper expected a handshake or a suppliant's kiss on the fingers, then took it in a quick firm clasp. There was a ring of callus around the forefinger and thumb of her right hand, and the grip was very strong when Juniper squeezed a little. Some things just couldn't be disguised.

Aha, she thought; then aloud: "What exactly do you tutor Mathilda in, Ms. Georges?"

"Ah: I'm the physical-education tutor, Lady Juniper. And the riding instructor. But I'm also qualified to teach the princess in most subjects for a while at least."

Probably true, since she knows I can check, Juniper thought. Does Arminger think I'm going to underestimate her because she's a woman, the way one of his testosterone-poisoned barons might? Or is he just taking out insurance, as I would if Rudi were being held hostage, sending someone like Astrid or Sam to look after him?

"She can attend our school at Dun Juniper with my son, if we haven't come to an arrangement with her parents before then," Juniper said coolly; the term started in September, roughly when the fall rains came, and ran until March.

Georges nodded. "I have the princess's personal school-books, and copies of some of her favorite reading," she said.

"I'd best have a look at that."

The tutor unslung a small leather trunk from her back and put it on the table. The trunk was newish, and also very well made-the combination bespoke great wealth these days, the ability to command the services of the rare skilled artisans. The surface was tooled around every edge in Greek keys, the corners were wrought brass, and the lock was a silver saint's face. When it opened, the interior was lined with fine linen, a contrast to the fairly shabby look of most of the volumes within. There were a couple of classic children's booksPooh, for starters-readers and grammars, arithmetic primers, a geography text and an atlas. And a number of paperbacks:

"Is this something you know about, Astrid dear?" Juniper asked, reaching in and picking one out. There hadn't been many things to smile about this day:

She held up a slim volume with a bluish cover, showing an erupting volcano and someone riding a very stylized pig. Astrid's eyes narrowed, and she came out of the almost hieratic trance of watchfulness. Juniper smiled as the young woman fumed wordlessly, feeling very slightly ashamed. Then she felt much worse, as she saw from the narrowing of Eddie Liu's eyes that he was sharing the amusement.

Suddenly that ran out of his face, leaving total blankness. "Lady Katrina, where did you get that book?" he said.

The tutor looked at him, puzzled. "It was on the list and I brought it from: no, wait, I lie. I forgot that one in Portland and got a copy in Gervais when we were staying over at the castle. Your house steward got it for me. Any problem?"

Liu's face stayed blank, but Juniper had the impression it suddenly required an immense effort of will to keep it that way as he shook his head.

I wonder what that was. about? she thought. But anyway:

"This interview was supposed to be short, Baron Gervais," she pointed out. "If you're finished."

"Yeah. I mean, yes, of course, Lady Juniper."

"You'd do best to leave immediately, then," Juniper went on.

She more than half expected Liu to protest and demand quarters for the night; the day was half gone, and he'd have to camp out at least once in unsettled country. Instead he bowed again and left.

Juniper fixed Katrina Georges with a steady eye: "Let's understand each other, Ms. Georges. I don't trust anyone who works for your employer. You'll be watched. Don't make me do anything Mathilda would regret."

That went over the girl's head, but the tutor caught it: She might regret it if you ended up with half a dozen arrows through you but I wouldn't. That wasn't strictly true: Juniper never liked killing anything, and human beings in particular. Which doesn't mean I won't, if I have to.