Anne Bishop - Dreams Made Flesh

"No. Didn't like her." Marian's eyes were closed. Her voice had the slur of someone half asleep. "That's why you have locks on the doors."

"That's exactly why."

"Thought so." She took a deep breath, let it out in a sigh. "I made stew."

He stopped kneading her muscles and leaned over far enough to see her face. "Are we still talking about Roxie?"

"No. Dinner. Stew. You can eat some."

"All right."

Her messages delivered, Marian fell asleep.

After studying her for a long moment, Lucivar decided nothing short of dragging her into the bathroom and holding her under a stream of cold water would wake her. So he finished her back, then pulled down the sheet and rubbed liniment on her legs. When he was done, he vanished the bottle of liniment, pulled up the bedcovers, and put a warming spell on them to keep her from getting chilled during the night.

He ate a bowl of quickly warmed stew, told Tassle to keep watch, and flew to the Keep, where he'd left Jaenelle a couple of hours ago.

She closed her book and studied him. "What brings you back here tonight, Brother?"

Her knowing he was there as her brother and not as a Warlord Prince who served in her court made this a lot easier. "I need a favor, and I don't want to explain why."

Tarl, the head gardener at SaDiablo Hall, was the first man to arrive that morning. Which figured, Lucivar thought as he raised a hand in welcome. Tarl had probably come in the Hall's small private Coach and stayed out of sight until the driver caught the Winds and guided the Coach to the next destination…with Jaenelle and a flustered Marian inside it.

Jaenelle had timed the note commanding Marian's assistance perfectly. Arriving late yesterday morning, it had given Marian enough time to wash out clothing and cook enough food that he could heat up so he wouldn't starve to death in her absence but not enough time to do anything else except get herself cleaned up and pack the small trunk Jaenelle had thoughtfully sent over from the Keep with the note.

Now Jaenelle and Marian were gone for the next two days to do some shopping, Tarl was here, and the other men would be arriving shortly.

"Morning, Prince Lucivar," Tarl said.

"Good morning, Tarl."

"Going to be a fine day."Tarl's eyes lit up with something close to lust when he looked at that half acre of rocky, weedy ground. "Sooo… it's a garden we're making out of this, is it?"

"Yes," Lucivar said cautiously.

"And…" Tarl broke off at the sound of other men's voices coming from the stairs leading up from the landing place. "You called in the tithe?" he asked softly.

Lucivar nodded. "From Riada. I need this done in two days."

As part of the tithe owed to the Keep, every adult in Ebon Rih owed five days of labor each year along with the financial tithe. As the Warlord Prince ruling on his Queen's behalf, he received two of those days. He'd spent part of yesterday making sure word was spread throughout the village that he was collecting those two days from the men.

The men began to gather round, talking quietly among themselves.

"Well," Briggs, who ran The Tavern with his wife, Merry, said. "What's to be done here, Prince?"

"A garden," Tarl replied before Lucivar could. "But what kind of garden?"

It sounded like an innocent question until Lucivar realized every man now crowded around them had stopped talking in order to hear the answer. He didn't look at any of them. He didn't dare look at Tarl, whom he could have cheerfully strangled at that moment. There wasn't a man on this mountain who wasn't going to go home tonight and report Prince Yaslana's answer to the women in his life…which, in Tarl's case since he worked at the Hall, was Helene and Mrs. Beale.

Lucivar took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Lady Marian wants a kitchen garden, a bed for herbs, and some flowers."

A few men grinned. Others nudged their neighbors or exchanged knowing looks. By tonight, everyone in Riada would know Lucivar Yaslana was interested in far more than Lady Marian's housekeeping skills. Which was fine…as long as Marian didn't panic when she found out.

Tarl prowled the ground nearest the eyrie, frowning a bit at one thing, nodding at something else. He made his way through the men, crossed the flagstone courtyard in front of the eyrie, and continued on to the other side. He came back a few minutes later, looking thoughtful.

"Right," he said. "I've got the feel of it. I expect your Lady wants to be doing her own planting on this side of the eyrie, but we can take care of the other side."

"Other side?" Lucivar said, feeling like he'd taken a bad slide on what he'd thought was solid ground.

"Lady Marian's a hearth witch, isn't she?" Tarl said, making the question close to a demand. "She'll spend the rest of the summer fretting if this side is put to rights and the other side is left so untidy. We've got two days and"…he looked around as men shifted to make room for newcomers…"plenty of hands to do the job."

Lucivar closed his eyes and accepted that he'd kicked the first pebble, so he couldn't complain…too much…about the avalanche that came out of it. "Fine."

"Right, then," Tarl said, rubbing his hands together. "The first thing we have to do is move those rocks."

Why am I here? Marian asked herself as she looked around the two-story building packed with furniture.

"Tell me again why I'm here?" the man beside her asked.

Jaenelle looked over her shoulder at him. "Because you're male."

"And I'm being punished for this because… ?"

"You're Lucivar's father."

He sighed. "I thought that would be the answer." He paused, then added, "Lucivar wanted to select his own furnishings. He said so. Several times."

Jaenelle turned to face them. "That's what he said. He changed his mind, and he picked me to do the shopping for him. And I picked the two of you to help me." She smiled at her helpers in a way that was not the least bit reassuring.

Marian glanced at the man to see what his reaction would be. Lucivar's father. S. D. SaDiablo. That was how Jaenelle had introduced him when they'd all settled into the Coach for the journey to Nharkhava. It was only because Luci… Prince Yaslana had mentioned it that she knew his father was the Steward of the Dark Court at Ebon Askavi. Being the Steward of the most powerful Queen in Kaeleer made him a very influential man. And yet, here he was, helping his daughter buy furniture for his son.

Of course, his daughter was the Queen of Ebon Askavi and his son was the Warlord Prince of Ebon Rih. But still…

So it brought her back to the question of why she, a Purple Dusk hearth witch, was here with them. Surely they weren't interested in the opinions of Prince Yaslana's housekeeper.

"If we're going to select furniture for all the rooms Lucivar intends to use, at least for the immediate future, I suggest we split up," Prince SaDiablo said. "We'll be able to look at more of what's being offered."

"Good idea," Jaenelle said. "I'll start over there." As she turned, one of the men who had been hovering nearby leaped forward to meet her. She smiled at him.

"I'll take a look at the dining room furniture," Prince SaDiablo said. His hand lightly brushed Marian's shoulder. "Why don't you accompany Jaenelle?"

"Oh," Marian said. "Wouldn't you rather…"

"Let me rephrase that."Amusement filled his gold eyes. "Age and rank have their privileges. You, my dear, drew the short straw and, therefore, get to deal with Jaenelle."

"That's not reassuring," Marian muttered.

"I didn't say it was."

As he moved past her, the other man waiting to help them said, "This way, High Lord."

Marian watched the two men make their way down the aisles of furniture. High Lord? What an odd title. Maybe it was his official title as the Steward? Although… She'd heard it before. She just couldn't recall where or why.