tales of the latter kingdom 08 - moon dance Page 4

  Frowning, I went over to Adalynn’s bed and stared down at it. The bedclothes had been folded back neatly. There was certainly no sign that anyone had taken her forcibly. In fact, as I looked around, I realized that the embroidered slippers she had worn earlier that day, and which she usually took off and kept at the foot of the bed, were missing, as was her chamber robe of deep blue Keshiaari silk.

  This discovery led me back to Carella and Theranne’s room. Now I realized that their slippers were missing as well, along with their dressing gowns. And I had no doubt that if I went back to the chamber I shared with Janessa, I would find her slippers and robe gone, too.

  Sleepwalking? Such a thing had always seemed to me an invention of storytellers, and not something that happened to people in actuality. Certainly I had never walked in my sleep. And I had shared a chamber with Janessa for more than a year now. If she had a predilection for rising from her bed and wandering the castle in the middle of the night, I would have encountered it before now. At any rate, even if one of my missing companions actually did sleepwalk, it would strain the bounds of credulity for me to believe all four of them suffered from the same affliction.

  I knew I should not waste any more time in speculation. I must go downstairs and wake my uncle and aunt, and tell them that their daughters were missing, along with the ward whose person they had sworn to protect. Enough time had already been wasted.

  But as I turned toward the door of Adalynn’s chamber, a strange lassitude came over me. Although I had been alert — even nervous — but a moment before, now it seemed as if I could barely keep my eyes open. Nothing was so terribly wrong, after all. I only needed to return to my bed, and all this would be as if something from a dream.

  Without consciously realizing what I was doing, I moved down the hallway and went into my room. I did not glance at Janessa's empty bed, but only climbed into my own and pulled the covers up nearly to my chin. Within the next instant, I was fast asleep.

  * * *

  An ear-cracking yawn woke me. I blinked, and realized the yawn had come from Janessa, who was sitting up in her bed and rubbing at her eyes. Her rich brown hair tumbled over her shoulders, rather than being confined to its usual nighttime plait, and I frowned. I could have sworn I had seen her braiding it right before bed, just as she always did.

  She must have caught me staring, because she mumbled, “Good morning.”

  “Good morning,” I replied. Something about this felt dreadfully wrong, as if there was something I knew I should be remembering but which appeared to have eluded me for the moment. All I could recall was lying down and putting my head on my pillow, just as I did every night, and yet it seemed as if I had forgotten something of vital importance

  Another yawn, and Janessa stretched, then grimaced. “I cannot think what I did yesterday to make me so weary! It feels as if every muscle in my body aches.”

  Truly, I could not think of what ailed her, either, for, as far as I knew, she had spent the day sedately within the confines of the castle, and hadn’t even taken a walk down to the stream, as I had. Again, I experienced that nagging sensation, as though a lost memory tickled at the back of my mind but wouldn’t quite surface.

  Oh, well, if it was truly that important, then it would reappear at some point. I said, “Well, I am sure that a warm bath will cure most of those aches, whatever it is that caused them.”

  “I suppose you are right,” she replied. “But it is most curious.”

  I could not argue with that. Nor did I have time to, for soon thereafter the maids appeared with the hot water for our baths, and the greater part of the next hour and a half was spent in the two of us getting ready for our day. By the time we had bathed and dressed and had our hair arranged by our maids, the sun was quite high, and we knew we must hurry, or be late for breakfast.

  As Janessa picked up one of her slippers to slide it on, however, she let out an exclamation of dismay. “Goodness! The soles of these are nearly worn through, and yet I have only had them these three months.”

  Recalling the way my aunt had chided Adalynn over the condition of her slippers, I couldn’t keep myself from taking a closer look. Sure enough, the leather soles of Janessa’s shoes were scuffed and scored, and wearing thin in several places. She certainly wasn’t active enough to have caused so much damage in such a short amount of time, and yet I could not deny that her slippers were in a pitiful state.

  “I will have to write to Papa and ask him to send me some more,” she said mournfully as she tied her shoe ribbons around her ankles. “And he will chide me for being so careless with these ones. But I know I must do something, for they will not last the month in this state.”

  Janessa did not mind being frank with me, for she knew that my own immediate family was far from rich, and so she did not bother to hide that her own father possessed nothing near the wealth that my uncle did. Indeed, I rather thought it reassured her to have someone close by who would not hold her own lack of means against her.

  Of course, I had a small secret of my own, one that I had not shared even with my aunt. My brother-in-law’s magical gift involved working with precious metals and stones, and indeed conjuring them from the very air. He knew better than to send me finished pieces, for I would not be able to wear them without having to reveal from whence they had come, but with some of my sister’s letters had also come small, undistinguished rocks — or at least, that was how they looked when they first arrived. I could not begin to guess at how Tobyn had managed the enchantment, but once I took those stones into my hand, they changed into a precious ruby, or a sapphire, or an emerald green as glass.

  He sent me those stones because he knew how much my father had depleted my already meager dowry. The gems were small and easy to hide, and something that would be gratefully accepted by any suitor who otherwise might be put off by my very small dowry. I supposed at some point I would have to reveal that I had more means than I had let on, but some part of me was stubborn and hoped that if a man cared for me enough to ask me to be his wife, then he would not think of how much money I had to contribute to the arrangement.

  But of course Janessa knew nothing of any of this, and so most likely thought her situation was equivalent to mine. I made sympathetic noises in response to her remark about her father being angry with her, and then said we had best be down for breakfast.

  My cousins appeared just as bleary-eyed as Janessa; Carella couldn’t seem to stop yawning. To look at them, one would have thought they’d been out all night, dancing with the local swains, and yet I knew they had all been safely in their beds.

  Or….

  Again that whisper of something forgotten tickled at my mind, although I couldn’t quite grasp what it was. I told myself not to worry, that if it was truly important, sooner or later I would be able to remember what I could not currently recall.

  “Goodness,” Aunt Lyselle said as she gazed from one of her daughters to the other. Her brow puckered in a frown; I could tell that she, too, was puzzled by their weary aspect. “What has gotten into all of you this morning?”

  “I don’t know, Mama,” Theranne replied. Her brown eyes looked enormous in her pale face. “I am just so very tired.”

  “You girls weren’t up all night telling ghost stories, were you?” my uncle asked. He wore an amused half-smile, and clearly wasn’t as concerned about their appearance as his wife seemed to be.

  “I should think not,” Adalynn said, her tone indignant. “That is, I cannot speak for Carella and Theranne, nor Janessa and Iselda, I suppose, but I know I went to sleep at a very respectable hour.”

  “It is no matter,” my aunt said briskly. “You shall all have some tea, and that, along with your breakfast, should be enough to restore you.”

  None of the girls looked terribly reassured by her remark, although no one argued, either. The maids went around and poured a good measure of hot tea into the waiting mugs at everyone’s place setting, and then it was time for the food itself — a great p
ie made of eggs and onions and cheese, and bacon on the side, and my favorite little rolls, the ones studded with currants. All in all, it was an excellent meal, and one which helped to make me feel restored, even though I still sensed an underlying weariness, one I could not fully explain.

  I saw no sign of Lord Mayson, but that did not bother me overmuch, for he did not always break his fast with us. He tended to rise early and take only some bread and cheese with him as he went on his early morning walks, a practice that dismayed my aunt somewhat, although of course she did nothing to prevent him. Yes, he was her guest, but she would always allow him to go his own way.

  Besides, it would have been difficult to face him this morning after what had passed between us the day before. I did not wish to avoid him, but I also preferred that our next encounter be something that didn’t take place under the watchful eyes of my cousins, and my uncle and aunt.

  All of the girls’ feet were safely hidden under the table, or I would have attempted to see if my other two cousins’ shoes were as damaged as Janessa’s slippers, or Adalynn’s. What precisely such a coincidence might mean, I didn’t know, but it would seem to indicate that something very strange was occurring at my uncle’s estate.

  But because I could not slip from my chair and go about on my hands and knees, inspecting my cousins’ footwear, I had to resign myself to waiting for another opportunity to present itself. Perhaps I could convince them to go wading in the stream, since the weather promised to be warm and sunny once again. If they left their shoes behind, then I would have my best chance at taking a closer look.

  What that would prove, I had no idea. That the kingdom’s shoemakers had all simultaneously become slipshod in their workmanship? Put that way, the situation did sound rather ridiculous, although I had to think something strange must be happening, even if I couldn’t determine what it was.

  The conversation at breakfast was mundane enough, consisting of remarks about the weather and the preparations my aunt was making in advance of Adalynn’s upcoming nuptials, for guests would start arriving several days before the event itself. The castle was being scrubbed from top to bottom, and corners perhaps ignored for too long now returned to their original sparkling state. The gardeners were watching the flowers in the garden beds carefully, waiting to see which blooms would be at their peak when it came time to harvest them.

  And we girls were not being ignored, either. True, much of the attention was on Adalynn, but each of the rest of us was to have a new gown, so we might not look shabby on the young bride’s day. My dress was certainly the most beautiful I had ever owned, with its sweeping skirt of silver and sapphire-blue brocade, and the silver edgings on its slashed sleeves. The gown was a gift from my aunt, for certainly I would never have been able to afford something so fine on my own — well, unless I happened upon a way to sell one of the precious gems Tobyn had sent me. At any rate, even though the happy event was still several days away, the house had already begun to buzz with excitement.

  The tea and the food did seem to revive my cousins somewhat, for their eyes grew less heavy and some of the bloom returned to their cheeks. My aunt watched them carefully, but said nothing as they rose from the table and went back upstairs — Carella and Theranne to prepare for the arrival of their tutor, Adalynn and Janessa to go back to their needlework. Janessa was very skilled, and although Delanis, Aunt Lyselle’s personal maid, was overseeing the construction of Adalynn’s wedding gown, Janessa had offered to embroider a matching silk purse.

  Their departure put me rather at loose ends, and so I decided I would go for a walk. Not because I wished to have an “accidental” encounter with Lord Mayson, but rather because I thought some time outdoors might help to clear my head.

  After absentmindedly nodding a “yes” to my aunt’s admonishment that I put on my hat, I went out the side door that led to the gardens. Truly, summer was upon us with a vengeance; the hot sun overhead made me very glad of the hat, and the air was thick with the scent of roses and lilies and lilacs. Bees hummed away.

  I took in a deep breath of the warm air. Despite the heat, it did feel good to be outdoors. I wore a gown of lightweight blue linen, and so did not feel too encumbered as I made my way down the path to the gate which opened on the rolling landscape beyond. Two guards stood there as well; they offered me a pair of quick but friendly bows as I went by, but I also noted how they paid attention to where I was headed. My uncle had all the appearances of an easy man, true. That did not mean he did not keep watch on the comings and goings of all the young women who lived under his roof.

  Except last night….

  The thought was so odd that I paused for a moment to consider it. Where in the world had that come from? As Adalynn had told her mother, we had all gone to bed early the night before, and slept more or less soundly. I had a vague recollection of hearing an owl hooting outside my window, sometime in the depths of the night, but there was nothing so very unusual about that.

  Shaking my head — but not too firmly, for fear of dislodging my hat — I resumed my pace and strode down toward the stream. My hope of having my cousins accompany me had not come to fruition, but at least I could enjoy the shade of the trees there, and the delicious coolness of the water.

  As I removed my slippers, I turned them over and inspected the soles for any signs of unusual wear. I saw nothing, however, except scuffs that I knew had been there for some time. And since the shoes had come from the same shoemaker in Bodenskell where my aunt bought all our shoes, I had no explanation as to why Janessa’s slippers, and Adalynn’s, should be so much more worn than mine.

  I set the slippers down on a rock and unrolled my silk stockings, then hitched up my skirts so I might safely walk in the water. Perhaps such behavior was not entirely ladylike, but at the moment I thought of nothing more than getting some much-needed relief from the heat.

  Cool water closed over my bare feet and rose to halfway up my calves as I went a little farther out into the stream. In the early spring, when the snow melt flowed down from the mountains, I would never attempt such a thing, for the water — besides being icy cold — would rush far more quickly than it was safe to stand in. Now, however, while I could feel the current as it flowed around my legs, I knew it was safe enough.

  I waded upstream a few paces in the green-dappled shadows cast by the willows and sycamores that overhung the stream banks. A little ahead was a place where I liked to stop and sit down, a sandy stretch in between the otherwise rather rocky edges of the creek. When I drew close, though, I could only frown in puzzlement, for the usually smooth expanse of sand was now marred by a number of footprints. And not men’s booted feet, either, indicating that perhaps my uncle’s huntsmen had come this way. No, these prints were similar in size to my own, small and delicate.

  Had my cousins come here without me? I supposed it was possible, although most of the time they preferred to stay downstream, at the natural fording spot with its stepping stones where I had left my slippers. Here, the bank was sandy but steep, and not that easy to reach. And yet it seemed that someone had been here.

  I could feel myself frowning as I moved closer to the far bank of the stream. Because of the way it sloped so steeply, the easiest way to climb up was to grasp an exposed tree root and use that to haul myself from the water. As I did so, part of my hitched-up gown came loose and trailed in the creek. Damn. I tried to console myself that on such a warm day, the fine linen would dry in no time.

  At any rate, I had more puzzling things to occupy my mind. For once I had carefully skirted the sandy area where the footprints were most prominent, I saw that they continued into the forest before they disappeared completely, obscured by fallen leaves and last year’s carpet of pine needles. Perhaps a master woodsman would have been able to still locate their trail, but I certainly did not possess that particular ability.

  So I stopped there, standing on a patch of thin grass in my bare feet, staring off into the woods and wondering. I knew my uncle’s lands
ended out there somewhere, and wild land began, owned by no particular lord, although I supposed it must then be the king’s property. We had always been admonished to stay by the stream and not venture into the forest, for it was populated by bears and wolves and the gods knew what else.

  Right then, with the sun shining brightly overhead through a canopy of fresh green leaves, the forest did not look terribly intimidating. But I was barefoot, and knew also that my aunt and uncle would be quite angry with me if I wandered off there by myself. The mystery of those vanishing footprints would have to be investigated at another time.

  Repressing a sigh, I turned toward the stream and began to carefully descend toward the water. As I did so, however, I made a mental vow.

  I would return, and see where those footprints led.

  * * *

  But not that day. When I returned to the castle — looking somewhat the worse for wear, I must admit — my aunt admonished me for disappearing for so long, and cast a jaundiced eye at my bedraggled skirts.

  “For it seems that his lordship has seen fit to come visit his son, and now we are all in an uproar!” she announced.

  “Lord Mayson’s father is coming here?” I asked, wondering what on earth this sudden visit might mean.

  “Yes,” Aunt Lyselle replied, “and with very little warning. He will be here in only a few more hours, so go get changed, and have Tarly do something about your hair.”