The Born Queen Part 46

"Ah, Sister Alis," Brinna said. "Did you know who I was?"

"Lady, I did not know," Alis said. She seemed completely off her footing, something Neil hadn't ever seen before. Of course, he was having a hard time keeping his own face composed.

"And now you do," the woman he had known as both Brinna and Swanmay said. She took a step toward Alis and raised a cup of wine. "Would you like a drink?"

"No, Highness, I would rather not."

"You admit it, then," the inquisitor snarled. "You admit the attempt at murder."

Alis held her head high. "My queen and this knight knew nothing of my intentions. You cannot hold them accountable."

"Oh, it was all your idea, then?" the masked woman said.

"I'm telling the truth," Alis said.

"I'm sure you are," Brinna relied. "You just haven't mentioned who actually put you up to it."

Alis didn't reply, but Brinna's gaze turned languidly to Neil. "That would be your Queen Anne, Sir Neil."

"I don't believe that, Highness," Neil said.

"Because it is untrue," Alis added.

"Well, we shall see. Inquisitor, take Lady Berrye to the room of the waters. Don't do anything permanent to her, do you hear? I want to talk to her myself later."

"Very good, Highness. And the knight?"

"I wish to converse with him alone," she replied.

The matron frowned. "That is unwise."

"I do not think so, inquisitor. Every exit from this place is guarded, and he is unarmed. But from what I've heard of this man, that wouldn't stop him any more than your continued presence would if his intention was to strangle me. What will stop him is his word. Sir Neil, will you behave yourself if left alone with me? Will you promise to make no a.s.sault on me or attempt to escape?"

"I promise not to harm your person in any way, Highness, and I won't try to escape during our conversation. After I leave this room, I can't make any such promise."

"That seems fair enough to me, inquisitor."

"Lady, it is still not appropriate."

"I say what's appropriate in my own house," Brinna purred. "And there will be no gossip of it, or I will know where it came from."

"I serve your father, not you," Walzamerka said.

"But unless my father gives a very specific command to disobey, you will do my will."

"Why do you want to be alone with him?"

"Because I believe you can torture Sir Neil for a thousand days and learn nothing. But a candid conversation held in private might yield some...insights."

The inquisitor's mouth parted, and a look very like fear pa.s.sed across her features. "I see, Highness," she said. "I didn't understand."

"Good."

When she was gone and the chamber door had closed, Brinna smiled.

"Walzamerka thinks I'm going to tear your soul out."

"Are you?"

She gestured toward a chair. "Sit, Sir Neil."

He did so, and she stared at him for several moments with those eyes of hers, so deep blue that in any light other than sunlight they appeared almost black.

"Did you also come here to kill me, Sir Neil?"

"I swear by the saints my people swear by that I did not, Princess Brinna."

Her lip quirked, and she poured two goblets of wine.

"This is not poisoned," she said. "Would you have some?"

"I would."

She handed him the goblet. He took it with numb hands.

"You're Marcomir's daughter," he said at last.

"Yes," she said. She reached up and removed the mask, revealing the strong cheekbones and contours he remembered so well. Only her gaze was different; it looked slightly unfocused.

"I don't understand," he said, unable to look away from her dark eyes. "When I met you-"

"Fancy a game of Fiedchese?" she interrupted.

"Fiedchese?"

"Yes."

She rang a bell, and a moment later a young girl in braids brought a board and pieces. The board had squares of rust and bone. The girl left again through a cleverly placed door Neil was unable to see once it had closed.

"It's the same board," he said. "From the s.h.i.+p."

"Yes, of course." She placed the pieces in their starting positions. "This set is rather dear to me." Her eyes s.h.i.+fted up. "King or raiders?"

"Raiders, I suppose," Neil replied.

Her melancholy little smile broadened, and she made her first move. He saw now it was more than her gaze. There seemed to be something slower slower about her, dreamier. Not stupid, but calculating and diffident. about her, dreamier. Not stupid, but calculating and diffident.

"I'll answer all of your questions, Sir Neil," she said. "I've nothing to hide from you anymore."

Neil made his own move mechanically, unable to concentrate on the game.

She tsk tsked softly. "You're better than that," she said.

"I'm distracted."

"As am I. I didn't know I would be so nervous at this meeting. I've thought about it often." She s.h.i.+fted the king a few s.p.a.ces.

He remembered their kiss months before. It had been soft, inexperienced, tentative, and at the same time frighteningly sincere. It was more real at the moment than anything else in his recollection.

"No," he said, moving another raider. "It's not silly."

"Now you know what tower I was trying to escape from and why I couldn't tell you at the time."

"Yes," Neil replied, watching her capture a double-headed ogre. "And no. Why were you fleeing your own father?"

She studied the board. "It wasn't just my father I was running from," she said. "It was everything. Look around you, Sir Neil. This tower has five floors. I live in the top three. Everything I need is provided for me. Attentive servants surround me. I once had friends, but since my escape, many of them are now out of my reach."

"I'm sorry," Neil said. "I know it was because of me. But I still don't understand why." He sent a lizardish monster down the board.

"I was born in this tower, Sir Neil. I have lived all of my life here except for the few months of freedom in which we met. I will die here, in this place with one window."

"What about the rest of the castle? The city? The countryside?"

"All denied me," she said.

"Then you are are a prisoner." a prisoner."

"I suppose so," she said, moving another of the kingsmen to block Neil's weak stratagem.

"Again, why?"

A frown pinched her brow. "I've been watching you, Sir Neil."

He had the sudden feeling of the very sky growing heavy and fragile above them, a huge plate of gla.s.s pressing on the tower, crus.h.i.+ng them and breaking under its weight.

"At the battle of the waerd," he said. "I thought-"

"I was there," she said. "I saw you fall. I did what I could."

And then he knew.

"You're the h.e.l.lrune," he said.

"What a funny way of saying it," she replied.

"Wait," Neil said, closing his eyes, trying to put it all together. Anne's insistence on his coming, Alis' many questions about the Hansan seers.

Brinna was the enemy, enemy, the beating heart of the Hansan war beast. the beating heart of the Hansan war beast.

"Don't look at me like that," Brinna said softly.

"How long have you been doing this?" he asked.

"Don't," she said. "Please."

"How long?"

"They knew when I was born. They started giving me the drugs when I was two, but I was nine before I was of much use. Move, please."

He did so, a reckless attack that she swiftly crushed.

"And how old are you now?" he asked.

She paused. "That's an unfriendly question," she said. Then, more softly: "I had nothing to do with your father's death, Sir Neil. I have twenty-three winters, but you don't imagine I was seeing seeing for a band of Weihands." for a band of Weihands."

"And yet you know-"

"I have seen it now, now," she said, "The death of your father, your first hard wounding. As I said, I have been watching you, past and present."

"Nevertheless, in these years you have caused the deaths of many friends," he said. "The fleet at Jeir-"

"Yes, that I was responsible for," she replied. "You understand? I will not lie to you."

"I lost an uncle there."

"How many uncles did you slaughter, Sir Neil? How many children did you leave fatherless? It was war. You cannot be so squeamish or judgmental."

"This is hard, Brinna," he managed.

"For me as well."

"And now you're waging war on my queen and country."

"Yes. Because it is my duty. We discussed duty, didn't we? You approve of it if I remember correctly."

"I did not know what your duty was then."

"Really? And would you have advised me differently if you had? Is my duty less relevant when it conflicts with your own?"

He looked at the game he'd just lost, trying to find something to say.

"Or would you have sacrificed yourself and killed me?" she asked very softly.

"No," he managed. "Never that."

"Then you still consider yourself obligated to me."

"I consider myself more than obligated," Neil replied. "But that puts me in an impossible situation."