Page 56 of The Priory of the Orange Tree

Sabran did not reply for a time.

“He threatened my people,” she murmured. “I had stepped out before I had considered what else might be done.” She looked back at Ead. “I have received another report about you. Lady Truyde utt Zeedeur has been telling my courtiers that you are a sorceress.”

Damn that red-haired gurnet. Ead almost admired her mettle, ignoring the threat of a curse.

“Madam, I know nothing of sorcery,” she said, tinging her words with a hint of scorn.

Sorcerywas not a word the Prioress much liked.

“Doubtless,” Sabran said, “but Lady Truyde has a notion that it wasyouwho protected me from Fýredel. She claims she saw you in the clock tower, casting a spell toward me.”

This time Ead was silent. There was no possible argument against the accusation.

“Of course,” the queen said, “she is a liar.”

Ead dared not speak.

“It was the Saint that drove back the wyrm. He held forth his heavenly shield to protect me from the fire. To imply that it was cheap sorcery comes very close to treason,” Sabran stated, her voice flat. “I have half a mind to send her to the Dearn Tower.”

All the tension rushed out of Ead. A laugh of relief bubbled in her, threatening to brim over.

“She is only young, Your Majesty,” she said, forcing it down. “With youth comes folly.”

“She is old enough to accuse you falsely,” Sabran pointed out. “Do you not crave vengeance?”

“I prefer the taste of mercy. It lets me sleep at night.”

Those stone-cold eyes ran her through. “Perhaps you imply that I should show mercy more often.”

Ead was too exhausted to fear that look. “No. Only that I doubt Lady Truyde meant insult to Your Majesty. More likely she has a grudge against me, since I was promoted to a position she desires.”

Sabran lifted her chin.

“You will return to your duties in three days. I will have the Royal Physician take care of you until then,” she said. Ead raised her eyebrows. “I need you well,” Sabran continued, rising to leave. “Once the announcement is made, I will need all my ladies by my side.”

“Announcement, madam?”

Sabran had turned her back to her, but Ead saw her shoulders tense.

“The announcement,” she said, “of my betrothal to Aubrecht Lievelyn, High Prince of the Free State of Mentendon.”

12

East

The water trials passed like a long dream. Most citizens took shelter in their houses as the storm battered the west coast of Seiiki, but sea guardians were expected to endure the worst conditions.

“Rain is water, and so are we,” the Sea General called over the thunder as he marched past the ranks. His hair was plastered to his skull, and raindrops rolled off the end of his nose. “If a little water can defeat you, you cannot hope to ride a dragon, or guard the sea, and this is not the place for you.” He raised his voice. “Will water defeat you?”

“No, honored Sea General,” the apprentices shouted.

Tané was already dripping. At least the rain was warm.

Archery and firearms were easy enough. Even in this downpour, Tané had sharp eyes and a steady hand. Dumusa was best with a bow—she could have done it blindfolded—but Tané came second. None of them, not even Dumusa, could best her with a pistol, but a sea guardian from the West House came close. Kanperu, the eldest and tallest, whose jaw looked as if a sword could be struck upon it, and whose hands seemed big enough to wrap around tree trunks.

Mounted archery was next. They each had to hit six glass floats that had been hung from a beam. Dumusa was not as skilled on horseback as she was on foot and only shattered five of them. Not being fond of horses, Onren, who gritted her teeth throughout the trial, lost control of her steed and missed three. Tané, however, struck true each time—until her horse stumbled and sent her final shot awry, allowing Turosa to steal first place.

They rode their horses back into the stables. “Bad luck, peasant,” Turosa said to Tané as she slid from the saddle. “I suppose some things are in the blood. Perhaps one day, the honored Sea General will realize that dragonriders are born, not made.”

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