‘Permit?’ I asked him ominously.
‘Poor choice of words there, perhaps,’ he admitted.
‘Very poor, Ontrose. You’re a poet, so you shouldn’t stumble over language that way.’ I laid a fond hand on his. ‘I’m only teasing, Ontrose.’ Then I looked at Duke Andrion. ‘Let me talk with Garteon before you start mobilizing, your Grace. His grandfather came around after I spoke with him. Perhaps that tiny bit of good sense runs in the family.’
Baron Lathan looked as if he were about to protest.
‘We can always mobilize the army if I fail, Baron,’ I told him. ‘When we get right down to the bottom of it, the Oriman family’s animosity is directed at me, not Wacune. I’ve been disrupting Asturian scheming for a long time, and I intend to continue. Wacune and Erat are like brother and sister, so Garteon knows that if he attacks Wacune, I’ll attack him. Luring me into war is probably his main goal. Since this is really a squabble between Garteon and me, it’s best if he and I settle it with a private little chat.’
‘We shall be guided by thee, your Grace,’ Andrion said.
‘Excellent decision, your Grace,’ I complimented him.
I went to Asturia in the usual way and snooped around Vo Astur for almost a week, but I couldn’t find so much as a trace of Garteon. I loitered unobserved in the grey hallways, hoping to catch some hints about his location, but the Asturian nobility seemed totally uninformed as to his whereabouts. I flew on to look around at the estates of the members of the Oriman family, but he wasn’t at any of them. I even went so far as to snoop around in several outlaw encampments back in the forest. Still no Garteon. Quite clearly, the Duke of Asturia had gone down a hole somewhere. Surely there was someone in Asturia who knew where he was, but whoever that someone was, he wasn’t talking about it. Since Arends are constitutionally incapable of keeping a secret for more than a few hours I began to catch a strong odor of Grolim in the whole business.
I wasn’t in a very good humor when I finally threw up my hands in defeat and flew back to Vo Wacune to report my failure to my friends in the palace. After some discussion, I glumly agreed that mobilization for war was the only course of action open to us at this point. ‘I’ll keep trying, though, gentlemen,’ I assured the little gathering. ‘Sooner or later, Garteon’s going to have to come out of hiding. He’s made me a bit peevish, and I’d like to talk with him about that – at length.’
Then Ontrose escorted me back to my town house, and we had a quiet supper. About the only good thing about my failure in Vo Astur was the fact that it persuaded my handsome champion that I was not omnipotent.
After supper, we adjourned to my rose-garden. I needed the peace of that lovely spot to calm my nerves.
‘I do sense thy discontent, my Lady,’ Ontrose sympathized.
‘It’s a bit more than discontent, dear friend,’ I said wryly. ‘Evidently, I’ve had too many years of easy successes, and failure upsets my opinion of myself.’
He smiled faintly, but then he sighed. ‘On the morrow I fear me that, with thy permission, I must go north into thy domain. If Wacune doth mobilize, then Erat must needs follow. Given two armies, I have a few fears as to the outcome of the current unpleasantness.’
I nodded. ‘I’ll draw up a warrant for you to take to Malon Killaneson, my seneschal up in Erat. He’ll open my treasury for you. Please treat my people kindly, dear Ontrose. Feed them well and train them to defend themselves.’
‘Thou art ever the mother, dear Lady.’
I shrugged. ‘It seems that way,’ I agreed. ‘It must have something to do with my own mother’s side of the family – but we don’t really need to go into that.’
Then I saw something familiar in the night sky. ‘You’re late,’ I said.
‘I?’ Ontrose said in puzzlement.
‘No, Ontrose, not you. I was talking to my old friend up there.’ I pointed out the smeary light of the comet pasted against the stars on the velvet throat of night. ‘He usually appears in the late winter, but it’s almost summer now.’
“Thou hast seen this marvel before?’ he asked.
‘Many times, Ontrose, many times.’ I made a quick mental computation. ‘Thirteen times actually. I was fourteen the first time I saw him. He comes by for a visit every seventy-one years.’
Ontrose also made some calculations, and his eyes went very wide.
‘Don’t let it upset you, dear Ontrose,’ I told him. ‘People in my family tend to live for a long time, that’s all. It’s just a trait – like dark hair or a long nose.’
‘It seemeth to me that the casual dismissal of nine centuries of life as a mere family peculiarity doth stretch the boundaries of the meaning of that term, Lady Polgara.’
‘The secret to longevity lies in keeping busy, Ontrose – and avoiding fights with people who’re bigger than you are, of course.’ I thought back. ‘I think my fourteenth summer came in one of those years I spent in my Tree,’ I reminisced. ‘My sister and I were having an argument about my father, and I was feeling sulky. I lived in my Tree for a couple of years to punish her.’ I laughed. ‘Children can be so ridiculous at times.’
‘Thou hast a sister? I had not heard of that.’
‘She died – many, many years ago. Her name was Beldaran, and we were twins. She was much prettier than I am.’
‘Say not so, my dear Lady,’ he protested. ‘Thou art the paramount beauty in all this world, and I shall prove the fact upon the body of any foolish enough to gainsay my words.’
‘Flatterer,’ I said, touching his cheek fondly.
‘To speak the truth is not flattery, my Lady.’
‘To exaggerate is, though. I certainly wasn’t all that pretty the first time my friend up there paid me a visit. My sister was so beautiful that I just gave up and let myself go to seed, so to speak. I was awkward and gangly and not really very clean – unless a passing rain-storm had just washed off most of the dirt. After my sister’s betrothal, I cleaned myself up. We were sixteen then, so after I scrubbed off the dirt and combed my hair, I was moderately presentable. My sister was betrothed to Riva Iron-grip, King of the Isle of the Winds, and after we sailed to his realm, I entertained myself by breaking hearts for a while.’
‘I must admit that I do not follow thee, dear Lady,’ he confessed.