Treason Read online

  "Thank you, my lady; that's quite kind."

  Tavia stood and started to unbutton the back of her gown, then stopped. "Oh. Right. You're here." She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I don't want to make you feel useless."

  "Of course, my lady. I'm not offended." Elunet's fingers went to the small round buttons and unfastened them, only trembling a little. She peeled the top of the dress down, baring Tavia's white shift and corset. In the mirror, she glimpsed the high generous tops of Tavia's breasts, lifted to the low hemline of her shift like an offering to an altar, and reminded herself that this was only work. "The Collegium picked a fine time to send you home; the gardens are lovely this time of year," she said, to give herself something else to focus on.

  Tavia sighed. "Sometimes I wish Father and Grandmama let me stay at the Collegium all year round. Even though I do love the gardens." She met Elunet's eyes in the mirror and added hastily, "And Father and Grandmama."

  "What do you do at the Collegium, my lady? I really don't know anything about magic, but it seems so fascinating." It was a good spy question: probing for potentially relevant information, in the natural context of the conversation and without any specificity, while staying perfectly in the character of wide-eyed maid.

  Tavia's eyes lit. "All sorts of things having to do with magic. I attend lectures and read about magic in the library and work on it in the laboratories. There are little stone rooms designed for practice, where you can draw glyphs on the floors in chalk and light candles and incense and even little bonfires and such without worrying about burning anything."

  "And what sorts of things does your magic do, my lady? Not turn me into a toad, I hope."

  Tavia smiled. "Magic only turns people into toads in stories. Nobody's ever figured out how to do that, if it's even possible. There are a lot of things no one's figured out, or no one remembers how to do. They say that in ancient Sujal, mages could make a door you could walk through and come out the other side on the other end of the empire, but no one's known how to do that in two thousand years as far as I know. The only documents describing how they did it were destroyed when the Great Library of Sujal was burned." She stood, and stepped out of her dress, as Elunet held it, revealing the smooth round curve of her hips and bottom beneath the clinging fabric of her shift and the shape of her bare calves. "I mostly do wardings and spells having to do with movement and travel."

  "What are wardings, my lady?" Elunet knew what they were, in a general sense, but "Nel" likely wouldn't.

  "Protection and blessing spells. A lot of times they keep things out. There's one for warding a room against flies, and a similar one for mice, and one to sound a loud alarm, and then there are movement spells to make wind blow in a certain direction or float an object across a room or... all kinds of things, really."

  "It sounds like fun."

  "Oh, it is. Though it's also a lot of work, especially if you're trying to figure out how to do something new." Tavia stood and yawned, and Elunet realized that Tavia's corset was still on over her shift.

  "Are you... planning on doing any magic here?" Be casual, be casual, Elunet thought, as her fingers went to the laces of Tavia's corset. She pulled the bow undone, then loosened the laces, feeling the warmth of Tavia's back beneath her thin shift as she unlaced.

  "Of course, when I can sneak away from Father and Grandmama long enough. I'd be embarrassingly rusty by fall term if I didn't. And I'm working on some research I really hope to make more progress on. You'll even get to see me do it." Tavia paused. "Unless it would frighten or bother you."

  "Oh, not at all, my lady! I've always wanted to see real magic." Elunet pulled the last of the laces out, and opened the shell of Tavia's corset. Tavia sighed as she relaxed into her natural shape, and rubbed at the places where the stays had pressed, then crossed to her bed. Free of their restraints, her abundant breasts moved slightly as she walked; Elunet looked away before Tavia could see her looking at that, and turned down the covers. "Is there anything I can get for you, my lady? A hot toddy? A warming brick?"

  "No, I don't need anything. Thank you for asking, Nel." Tavia slid into bed and gave Elunet a smile that made her breath catch. "Good night. And welcome to House Mellas. I hope you're comfortable here."

  "Oh, I am, my lady. Thank you, and a good night to you as well." Comfortable was entirely the wrong word, but Tavia's presence seemed as if it would make House Mellas more enjoyable—if even more frustrating. Elunet closed the bed curtains and went to her own pallet in the vestibule of Tavia's chamber within easy hearing of the bed. She undressed to her own shift and curled up, breathing in the rose and almond scent of Tavia's salve on her hands.

  *~*~*

  In the morning, after rising early for a breakfast of brown bread and soft fresh cheese and taking Tavia's travel clothes to the laundress, Elunet laced Tavia into her corset and dressed her in a green silk gown with voluminous sleeves that she had not taken to the Collegium with her. Considering how many tiny buttons it had, it would have been difficult to wear without help. Elunet braided Tavia's hair and looped the braid into a high bun, then pinned on a fluttery lace veil.

  "There, my lady. You look lovely as spring itself in that green. All the young men at the soiree will be fighting each other to dance with you." Elunet felt plain as a peahen beside her, in a russet wool maid's dress and apron.

  Tavia met Elunet's eyes with a little smile, blushed prettily, and sighed. "To tell the truth, the only thing I look forward to is Galatan's playing. Well, and the roasted swan and almond pastries or whatever it is we're eating. Sometimes I feel like I am the swan—another centerpiece stuck with feathers and put in the center of the room to be doled out in pieces to all the guests."

  Elunet tried to think of something to say to that. "Of course you're shown off to all the guests. You're young and pretty and clever and..."

  "Marriageable," Tavia finished. "Father may have sent me to the Collegium, but a future Lady of the Council needs heirs as much as she needs education." She sighed. "I wish my brothers had lived, and that I'd been the youngest. Then Father and Grandmama wouldn't worry half so much about it, and I could spend the summers on my research instead of being taken to a hundred dull gatherings and reminded every day that I'm nearly twenty-two and can't go on being picky forever. Or being tutored in politics and endless details of foreign trade and shipping costs and all the alliances and rivalries among the Houses here and what not to say to whom. I'm bad at politics, and worse at business, and even worse at socializing."

  "I wish your brothers had lived as well, my lady. It must have been dreadful to lose them and your mother both."

  "Oh, one I never knew; he was stillborn. Another died as a baby. Thenian and Mother died four days apart, of the same fever. He was twelve." Tavia shivered and rubbed her arms at the memory. "Sometimes I still wake up in the morning expecting him to come in and jump on my bed... and then I remember."

  "My mother and father both died of a fever when I was six," Elunet said. It was true, and she scolded herself a little for revealing something real about her own life. "Um. My lady."

  "So... you understand." Tavia looked into her eyes for a long moment, then shook her head. "I'm sorry. It's terribly insensitive of me to whine about having to go to feasts and soirees in front of you, when I doubt you've ever had the chance to go to any such thing unless you were working."

  That was also true... although the "work" involved had not been the sort Tavia had in mind. Elunet had attended several banquets as an obscure Lady So-and-so or one of her poor country relations, on Chal's behalf. Conversations became delightfully informative after several goblets of wine. "Not a bother at all, my lady. I don't mind watching; I still get to hear the music and see all the pretty clothes, without worrying about some overeager young man stepping on my toes all night."

  In truth, she certainly did not envy the servants whose entire lives would be spent in drudgery for wealthy people who showed them little gratitude. Having Tavia's leisure and opportuni
ty to pursue her interests would have been wonderful, and certainly would have seemed even more wonderful if Elunet's assumed role had been real and she had spent her whole life in service with no prospect of anything else, but Elunet was glad that she would never be shown off on the market like a cow in silks. Elunet herself moved easily through the intrigues of the Auragan elite, but she could tell that Tavia—easily flustered and clearly interested mostly in academic and magical subjects—was like a mouse in a snake pit. She'd seen, heard about, and read about similarly ill-suited lords and ladies who had ended up manipulated, swindled, supplanted, or assassinated once they'd inherited their titles, and did not like to imagine Tavia's future. Tavia did, however, have the self-awareness and empathy to recognize her own privileged position in relation to Elunet, and this impressed Elunet considerably.

  Elunet had arranged to meet Chal at midday at an unassuming rented room close to the nearby market square. She covered her absence by offering to fetch Tavia whatever she wished from the stalls; Tavia requested cherries, and Elunet hurried just short of a run through four streets to the safehouse, where she knocked four times fast and twice slow as was their signal. Chal let her in. He was a compact man close to fifty, with a neat, short beard and the well-made, if slightly dusty, linen attire of a successful artisan; his entire appearance, Elunet knew, was calculated to be respectable but undistinguished, a man no one would notice. As soon as the door was closed, Chal cuffed her gently on the back in a half-hug and said, "Any new discoveries, Mockingbird?"

  The old nickname, bestowed long ago in honor of her gift for mimicry and blending into whatever role she was playing, always made her smile. "Mellas is having trouble with the coffee trade—the ship captain reported drought in Nurana, but the Dowager thinks either he or the Tanafelan middlemen are lying about that. Silk is expensive and likely to stay so for some time, wool is cheap, and the winter's orange crop at the country estate was worth a good bundle in the north. They're hosting a gathering tonight, and they've hired Galatan to play the lute, so there should be a good turnout even if only for him. Lady Tavia came home from the Collegium yesterday, but she hasn't said much about Telar other than about the Collegium itself, though I have overheard rumors about someone catching a Telarian spy in House Amarin. However, Lady Tavia's previous lady's maid quit while she was still at the Collegium and the housekeeper's having me fill in for her." Elunet smiled.

  Chal's smile was even wider than Elunet's own. "A remarkable stroke of luck, Mockingbird. Are you sure you didn't arrange things this way?"

  "What, are you accusing me of driving poor Dulsa out? She ran away with a young man from the Collegium stables."

  "Quite romantic. Isendre hasn't been to visit anyone in Telar?" Chal leaned against the wall, one foot on a plain wooden chest.

  "Not since last year."

  "Do you know who she and Kenar correspond with there?"

  "Isendre's younger brothers and their children and grandchildren, and a few merchants. The letters I got a peek at were all pretty innocuous. All 'the first tin shipment arrived from Berethar two days ago' and 'Lilia has embroidered a very nice cushion with hummingbirds and honeysuckle' and no 'we sabotaged that Corellis ship just as you asked' or 'when Auragos is Telar's vassal, you'll have the whole Port District.' That would be much too easy." Elunet glanced at the floor. "I'm sorry I haven't been more useful."

  "Oh, no, you've been useful. Corellis will be glad to know they can anticipate an opportunity to cut into Mellas's share of the coffee trade, at least. This young heir—Tavia—what's she like these days? I remember her being quiet at social occasions and going off to the Collegium Arcanum."

  "Oh, she's still not one for socializing. She told me she'd rather be working on her magical research. Being shown off and expected to impress suitors is uncomfortable for her, and she thinks she isn't any good at politics or business. In fact, she wishes she weren't the heir at all." She had an uneasy feeling in her stomach, betraying these confidences, and reminded herself that hearing private details of other people's lives and relating them to Chal was her job. She'd told him much worse about other people before.

  "Now that is really useful. Did you find out anything about what she's doing in Telar?"

  "She specializes in wardings and spells having to do with travel and movement. She seems especially interested in glyphs and geometric patterns. And she's working on some sort of magical research; I got a brief look at her notes, but didn't really understand them. I think she's making progress on whatever it is, though. She seems to be careful about writing everything down in a lot of detail."

  "No word of dealings outside the Collegium?"

  "None." Elunet shrugged. "I could lead our conversation in that direction in the future and see what turns up, but I got the sense she was mostly interested in her studies."

  "Sounds wise." Chal smiled. "I trust your judgment. If you have nothing else to report, we'll meet here again in a month. I have a little business out of town in the meantime, so I apologize for the delay."

  "Of course. Thanks, Chal." Elunet waved a quick farewell, and headed back to the market. The fruit-seller's cart was thronged with servants and housewives and at least one ragged child trying to pilfer something sweet. She'd been that child once, and been lucky enough to have Chal catch her trying to lift his purse. Elunet waited her turn for much too long, shouldered her way past two matrons who cut her in line, and picked out a bunch of cherries just at the perfect halfway point between red and black, then hurried back to the Mellas estate. Dennel the guard let her in with an indulgent smile and a "What, nothing for me?" She ran up the back stairs and to the sitting room on the second floor, where Tavia sat in an ornate leather chair with a book in her lap and loose curls of hair in her face.

  Almara's hand clamped on Elunet's upper arm just as she was about to enter. "Where in the Sea-Father's name have you been?"

  This was one of the lines of questioning she found truly worrying. "Out at the market, ma'am. Lady Tavia wanted some cherries." She held out the little sack as evidence.

  "Well, you certainly took your sweet time about it. She's going to the Savara estate with his lordship for lunch, and her hair needs to be presentable. And Anata tells me you left Lady Tavia's room in a frightful state this morning—bed made very sloppily, and an actual garter on the floor!"

  "The garter was my fault, Almara." Tavia had stood up, one finger marking her place in the book, and was approaching. "I hadn't gotten used to having a maid again, so I took off my own stockings last night. Nel hasn't been a lady's maid in a while, either, so she didn't notice. It was her first night working for me."

  Elunet dropped into a curtsy. "You're very kind, my lady."

  Almara looked as if she were about to sigh, but thought better of it. "My apologies, my lady. I'm sure Nel will be more conscientious in the future." A clatter, as of dropped dishes, sounded from the direction of the kitchen downstairs, and Almara hurried after it.

  "Cherries, my lady, as you requested." Elunet handed Tavia the sack; Tavia plucked one out and bit into it slowly. One drop of juice ran down the side of her hand, and she licked it off before it could stain anything. A second bite, and she was left awkwardly holding a pit and stem. Elunet held out her hand to take them, but Tavia found a little tray and deposited them there. With her other hand she pulled out a second cherry and offered it to Elunet, who took it with murmured thanks; it was round and ripe and sweet.

  "Almara seems hard on you," Tavia said.

  "She isn't so bad, my lady. Mostly it's that she worries a lot about getting everything just right, and sometimes takes the worry out on us." The steward was the truly unpleasant one, but he had more dealings with the male servants and the household accounts than with the female servants, for which Elunet was grateful.

  "I understand. Sometimes I used to scold Dulsa when I was upset, and then I'd feel bad about it." Tavia shook her head.

  "It's human nature, my lady."

  "I know, but it was unkind
of me." Tavia offered Elunet another cherry. "Come upstairs. Almara's right that I need my hair done, though I do wish she'd put it a bit more tactfully than 'presentable.' I don't look like a wild beast as I am—do I?"

  Elunet looked at Tavia: pale gold curls escaping her lace veil, lush curves draped in green silk, lips stained deep red with juice. "No, my lady, you certainly don't," she said, then hoped her tone had not made her admiration too clear. She thought again of how everything Tavia said and did was potential information for her to relay to Chal, and felt that uneasy twisting in her stomach again. Tavia's openness and kindness made it easier for Elunet to weasel her way into her confidence; it also made it surprisingly less pleasant.

  *~*~*

  Elunet lingered at the edge of the courtyard late that night, between a trellis of red roses and a curtain of ivy that streamed down from a balcony above. Like the other serving women, she was keeping an eye out for any guests who needed assistance or any tasks that needed doing as the soiree drew to a close, but mostly using this as an excuse to listen to the music. Galatan's hands drew silken threads of melody from his lute and laced them together in an intricate counterpoint. He had entranced the guests all evening to the point that some forgot to dance and boast tastefully about their mercantile dealings or their children's accomplishments and spent much of the time watching him, heads canted slightly to the side, giving their full attention to his stately pavanes and brisk galliards. Tavia was one such. She sat at the long stone table, leaning slightly toward him, intent on the music. Elunet was studying the whole crowd as she always did at such affairs, noting who was speaking, dancing, and flirting with whom and keeping her ears open for snatches of conversation, but her eyes kept straying back to Tavia. Now that most of the guests had departed, Tavia was drawing more and more of her attention.