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"Agreed," Astrid said promptly, and at Sandra Arminger's nod the four rose and left.
"That one is formidable," Sandra Arminger said softly, speaking to the snapping flames in the fireplace. "Quite mad, that's beyond doubt, but formidable. And she will grow more so. All of them will. If they live. This would be a great pity."
"My lady-" Tiphaine began, going to one knee, naked eagerness on her face.
"No," Sandra said, and there was iron in her voice. She turned in her chair so that she could see the younger woman. "If she, either of them, or the men, were to die just now: You will do nothing that could link me to an assassination in Corvallis while the peace lasts, do you hear? Do you?"
Tiphaine bowed her head. Sandra went on in more friendly tones: "But there is the matter of the egregious Sir Jason. Something must definitely be done to ensure he isn't the star of their little PowerPoint presentation to the Faculty Senate."
The other woman nodded, though the computer reference went over her head, then froze as Sandra extended a finger almost to her nose.
"Listen to me, Tiphaine. I took you and Katrina in after the Change, trained you, and found you work you liked better than breeding heirs for some oaf in an iron shirt. I kept your little secret from the priests, or at least from official notice. His Holiness wouldn't approve of your: lifestyle choices, if he knew about them."
"I am my lady's grateful and faithful servant."
"Yes, you are," Sandra agreed aloud. To herself: And the younger generation can say things like that and not seem silly at all. It's distinctly weird sometimes, like living in a dream: focus, woman, focus! This isn't a game and the stakes are very high. Mathilda -
She leaned forward, gripping the arms of the chair. "But so was Katrina. Your dearly departed girlfriend failed me, Tiphaine. You'd better not."
"No, my lady." Tiphaine's tongue touched her lower lip briefly. "There will be nothing to link any: events to you. If necessary, I will retreat rather than risk exposure. I'll work alone. Or possibly with Joris: no, he's good, but he doesn't take orders well."
"I'm glad you noticed that; I think our good Joris Stein has a self-esteem problem." At Tiphaine's raised eyebrow: "Too much of it, and largely unjustified. And an excess of entrepreneurial spirit. As to the ladies of the Dunedain: eventually, we may arrange for you to settle your scores."
She smiled to herself as a red flush chased pallor across the face of the young woman in black. When Tiphaine rose and bowed and withdrew, she turned to the maidservant.
"These people who bottle up their passions: " She made a tsk sound between her teeth. "Now go and see if my bath's ready, would you, child? And tell Lord Carl that I require his attendance at di
Chapter Seven
Corvallis, Oregon
January 1lth, 2008/Change Year 9
"N igel!" Juniper Mackenzie said in glad surprise as the door opened.
"My dear," the Englishman said, blinking his slightly watery blue eyes and shedding his cloak and sword belt; he was dressed for travel in winter: and not in a kilt.
"I thought you had other business?" she went on. "And you didn't come all the way across the Valley by yourself?"
"I did have business," he said, smiling with a little constraint in it. "But it's finished: and that's what I'm here in Corvallis to talk about."
"But come in, and have something hot to drink!"
He did, putting a parcel on the mantelpiece and warming his hands before the fire, then taking the cup and draining it. The little sitting room in the Clan's Corvallan guest-house was warm and cozy enough, with a low blaze in the hearth, and windows closed against a cold slow rain.
"Mathilda's having a nap," Juniper said, nodding to the corridor. "She's overexcited, poor thing. You've heard-"
"Yes, I spoke with Eilir, and heard about Mistress Arminger," the Englishman said, smoothing down his mustache with a forefinger. "Ah: I was: that is, Eilir knew I was coming here to meet you, in any case. With a, um, present."
Well. Juniper thought. He's nervous! That's not something I've seen often!
He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. He also took the package down from the mantelpiece, unwrapping the scrap of cloth that enfolded it and silently handing it to Juniper. Within was a box of hardwood about the size and thickness of a hardcover book, seasoned amber-colored bigleaf maple streaked with darker color, the curling grain brought out by rubbing and polishing. A Triple Moon had been inlaid on the surface in ivory, waxing and full and waning-and She alone knew where the ivory had come from. The Chief of the Mackenzies turned it in her hands, and saw that on the other side the wood had been carved in the likeness of a wild, bearded face, a man with curling ram's-horns on his brow; the features were brought out by the carving alone, but the eyes were milky-white opals that seemed to shine with an i
"Why, Nigel, it's beautiful!" she said. But if a gift, why not at Yule? Aloud she went on: "De
"Eilir found the wood, Astrid the ivory and opals, and I did the basic shaping and metalwork, with some help from Sam Aylward. De
He went down on one knee before her and took the box in his hands. "At first I thought I might use the traditional ring," he went on steadily, meeting her eyes. "But then I had a bit of an inspiration. At least I hope so, my dear!"
He held the box up for her, and she unhooked the little brazen latch and opened it. A soft ah! escaped her as she looked within. It was a ring, but of a size to fit around her neck rather than a finger, glowing against the dark velvet that lined the interior of the box; a torc, the ancient royal emblem of the Gael, the gold of it worked in a delicate tracery of leaf and vine. The open ends swelled into a lunar disk and a flame-wreathed sun opposite each other, carved of moonstone and amber.
"Nigel, it's beautiful!" she cried softly, and took it up. "You really thought about this, didn't you?"
His smile was shy, oddly charming on the weathered, middle-aged face. "I tried."
Juniper started to put it around her neck, spreading the soft metal a little, then hesitated. "This is meant as an engagement torc, isn't it, Nigel my heart?"
"Yes, my dear. I hope it'll do, until I have a wedding gift-besides myself, that is."
Her smile broadened. She settled it around her neck; it was snug when she let the circle close again with the Sun and Moon on her right and left collarbones. The metal was surprisingly heavy for all its delicacy, and a bit cold. It warmed quickly; she felt her breath grow a little short, and more so after she leaned forward and took his face between her hands and kissed him.
"Then I'll take it in the spirit it's given," she said after a moment. "Beauty, and love, and friendship."
They clasped hands and looked at each other, then laughed. Her smile grew impish for an instant. "The child will need a father, after all."
She laughed delightedly at his astonishment. "No, I'm not, not yet-that would be a miracle, and from the wrong mythos! But I'm still under the Moon, and I always wanted three, you know! For the symbolism? And this time I get to keep the man to help with the chores, which will be a nice change."
"My dear: darling Juniper: you've made me a very happy man, and I hadn't expected to be happy again, you know."
"Not nearly as happy as I intend to make you!" she went on, standing and taking him by the hand. "I've waited long enough."