The Oracle’s Queen. Lynn Flewelling
baldric with the colors of Tamír’s guard.
Baldus woke at last and sat up, rubbing his eyes.
“Go find yourself some breakfast,” Tamír told the boy.
“Yes, Highness.” The boy yawned and gave Una a curious look, his eyes lingering admiringly on her sword. Then he recognized her and made her a hasty bow. “Lady Una!”
Una looked down at the boy, then gave a little cry of surprise. She knelt and took his hand. “You’re Lady Erylin’s son, aren’t you? I bet you know my brother Atmir. He’s Duchess Malia’s page at court.”
“Yes, lady! We have lessons together, and sometimes we play—” Baldus trailed off and his face fell. “Well, we did—before.”
“Have you seen him, since the attack?”
He shook his head sadly. “I haven’t seen any of my friends since the enemy came.”
Una’s kind smile couldn’t cover her disappointment. “Well, I’m glad you’re safe. If I see him, I’ll tell him you’re looking for him.”
“Thank you, my lady.” Baldus bowed to Tamír and went out.
Una straightened to attention. “Forgive me, Highness. I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just that I’ve had no word of any of my family.”
“No need to apologize. Poor Baldus. He doesn’t really understand what’s happened. I hope you both find your kin.” She paused expectantly. “Why are you here?”
Una began to look uncomfortable. “Lord Tharin thought you might need assistance, Highness.”
Suddenly self-conscious to be sitting there in nothing but a woman’s nightgown, Tamír found the robe and wrapped herself in it. “Better?”
Una made her another hasty bow. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say to you, really, or how to act.”
“You and everyone else!” Tamír spread her arms. “Well, here I am. Take a good look.”
Una blushed. “It’s not that. You know, when I threw myself at you and kissed you that time? If I’d known, I’d never have done such a thing.”
Tamír still blushed at the memory. “It wasn’t your fault. Hell, I didn’t know either back then. Believe me, I don’t hold it against you. Let’s just forget it.” She raked a hand absently back through her tangled hair. “Look at you now, a warrior, after all! I guess those sword-fighting lessons were useful, after all.”
“It was a good start,” said Una, obviously relieved by the change of subject. “Although I think I was the only girl who wasn’t there just to make eyes at the boys.”
Ki hadn’t minded that at all, Tamír recalled. She pushed that thought aside at once. “So, Captain Ahra finished your education?”
“Yes. I remembered Ki’s stories about his sister, so I rode for Lord Jorvai’s holding the night I ran away and found her. I put all my trust in her, and she promised to make a soldier of me. Her methods weren’t quite as refined as yours, though.” Una grinned. “I must admit, I was a bit surprised when I met her. She’s much—rougher than Ki.”
Tamír laughed outright at that. “I’ve met his whole family, and that’s a very forgiving assessment. But tell me, why did you run away like that? There were rumors that you’d been killed by the king, or your father.”
“That’s not far from the truth. Father was terrified of losing favor with your uncle. He beat me and said I was to be sent off to live with some ancient aunt in the central islands until he could marry me off. So I ran away. All I took was this.” She touched her sword hilt. “It was my grandmother’s. Mother gave it to me with her blessing when I left. But things are different now, aren’t they? Women can be warriors again, even noblewomen.”
“Yes, even nobles.”
Forgetting her breeches and sword, Una made her a graceful curtsy. “You have my loyalty until death, Highness.”
Tamír bowed. “And I accept it. Now tell me honestly, do you think I look much like a girl?”
“Well—Perhaps if you combed your hair? And didn’t scowl so much?”
Tamír let out an unladylike snort, noting with a twinge of envy that Una really was quite pretty, with her smooth, dark hair and oval face.
Baldus peeked in just then. “It’s Mistress Iya, Highness. She wants to come in.”
Tamír frowned at the intrusion, but nodded.
Iya wore a gown of fine brown wool and a fancy leather girdle, and her long grey hair was combed loose over her shoulders, making her look younger and less severe than usual. She was carrying what looked like several dresses over one arm.
“Hello, Una. Good morning, Highness. Ki said you were awake. I hope you rested well?”
Tamír shrugged, eyeing the gowns with suspicion.
Iya smiled and held them up. “I’ve come to help you dress.”
“I’m not wearing those!”
“I’m afraid you must. There are already enough rumors flying about saying you’re only a boy playing at being a girl, without you adding to them. Please, Tamír, you must trust me in this. There’s nothing shameful about wearing a dress, is there, Lady Una? It hasn’t stopped you being a soldier.”
“No, Mistress.” Una shot Tamír an apologetic glance.
But there was still too much of Tobin in her for Tamír to give in so easily. “Ki and Tharin will laugh their heads off—and the rest of my guard, too! Damn it, Iya, I’ve worn breeches all my life. I’ll trip on the skirts. I’ll turn my ankles in slippers and look a fool!”
“All the more reason for you to get used to them now, before you have a great crowd of nobles and generals to impress. Come now, don’t make such a fuss.”
“I won’t ride in a gown,” Tamír warned. “And I sure as hell won’t ride sidesaddle! I don’t give a damn what anyone says.”
“Should a princess use such rough language?” asked Una, trying to stifle a smile and failing.
“One step at a time,” said Iya. “Besides, her grandmothers all swore like Scavenger men. Queen Marnil could make generals blush. For today, let’s just concentrate on appearances. Duchess Kallia will send her dressmaker to you. In the meantime, she was good enough to lend you some of her eldest daughter’s gowns. The two of you are close in size.”
Tamír blushed as she took off the nightgown, then felt a perfect fool as Iya and Una helped her into a linen shift and pulled a heavy green satin dress down over her head.
“What do you think of this one, before we lace it up?” asked Iya, turning her to face the mirror.
“I hate it!” Tamír snapped, barely glancing at her reflection.
“I admit that’s not a good color for you. Makes you look sallow. But you must wear something, and these are all we have.”
Tamír discarded one after another, grudgingly settling at last on a high-necked hunting gown of dark blue wool, mostly because it was plainer than any of the others, shorter in the front, and cut loose for easy movement. The laced sleeves were tied on at the shoulder, letting her move her arms easily. The style also allowed her to wear her boots rather than the soft shoes Iya had brought. When Una had laced it up, it was still loose through the bodice, but not as uncomfortable as she’d expected.
“This goes with it, I believe.” Iya handed her a leather girdle embossed with leaves and flowers. It fastened with a golden clasp and hung low on her slim hips, with a long gold-tipped end that hung down the front of the gown to her knees. Tamír picked it up, impressed with the workmanship. “This looks like Ylanti work.”
“You