claim it—”
“As long as you live. What then, if, once you have found the Crown, your enemies find you? How long will you continue to live?”
The Princess looked back at Roane, her eyes wide with what might be shock.
“But no common man can raise his hand against the wearer of the Crown; such are under the protection of the Guardians. Any such death must come before the Crown has rested on the chosen’s head.”
“But the Crown now would belong to your grandfather, would it not? So long as he remains alive you will be in danger.”
“True. But if what I fear is also true, and that is in a manner proved by the fact that Reddick moved against me so openly, then the King is very near to death. The Crown will know that; it has many strange powers. All the crowns do. They are the hearts of the countries possessing them and their lives are those of the nations—as was proved at Arothner. No, when your people come they must dig for the Crown. It still exists and I must find it!”
And that influence she was able to exert at times, which Roane recognized but somehow could not resist, brought Roane to half agreement now. Yet enough of her fought that compulsion so that she was able to persuade the Princess to return to the other end of the passage to meet their rescuers.
That Uncle Offlas would come she had no doubt, but how long he would take was another matter. Especially if he had to avoid searchers in the woods. And she said as much in warning to the Princess.
“But you can send a message—though why tapping on that ugly arm circlet carries a message—” Momentarily she was diverted. “I do not know who you truly are. But that you are not of Reveny, nor of any kingdom I know, I will swear to. Had you not brought me out of that tower, I would not—” Again she paused. “But I stand here and not in the hands of Reddick’s men, so I have a measure of trust in you. Send another message to those you say will come to unseal us; tell them to use my name to the garrison at Yatton. There is there Colonel Nelis Imfry. He was of the palace wards before he took service with the March Guards. Summoned in my name, he will come. You may tell your people, if those clicks really talk, to say to him—”
“No.” Roane shook her head. “They will not go to Yatton nor any other place for your guard, no matter what message I send.”
Perhaps she was wrong in being so definite about that. It might arouse Ludorica’s suspicions even further. But she must make plain before the camp party arrived that they would not give the Princess any help in solving her complicated problems of dynastic inheritance.
“My people are sworn”—she tried to put the situation into words the Princess would understand—“by oaths, very tightly binding, to have naught to do with the affairs of others. I have already broken this oath by what I have done since we met. For this I shall have to pay. But you will find deaf ears if you ask for any aid from those who come.”
They were passing the wall panel which the Princess could not see but which so fascinated Roane. The latter kept her eyes resolutely turned from temptation. And at that moment the com on her wrist flashed. She did not need the beamer light to read the sparked code.
Sandar! But no mention of Uncle Offlas. Only a sharp demand that she turn the call beam higher so that he would have a guide.
“They are here now!” She began to run along the smooth flooring, not caring whether the Princess followed or not.
Back in the entrance cave she again faced that plug of stone and clay, cautiously, since she did not know the force of the tool they would use to clear it. And she threw out an arm to hold the Princess to an equally safe distance.
The latter had given no vocal protest when Roane had denied her help. But she was smiling with anticipation. There was such an aura of confidence about her that Roane was uneasy. Perhaps she should have given her the whole truth in
“As long as you live. What then, if, once you have found the Crown, your enemies find you? How long will you continue to live?”
The Princess looked back at Roane, her eyes wide with what might be shock.
“But no common man can raise his hand against the wearer of the Crown; such are under the protection of the Guardians. Any such death must come before the Crown has rested on the chosen’s head.”
“But the Crown now would belong to your grandfather, would it not? So long as he remains alive you will be in danger.”
“True. But if what I fear is also true, and that is in a manner proved by the fact that Reddick moved against me so openly, then the King is very near to death. The Crown will know that; it has many strange powers. All the crowns do. They are the hearts of the countries possessing them and their lives are those of the nations—as was proved at Arothner. No, when your people come they must dig for the Crown. It still exists and I must find it!”
And that influence she was able to exert at times, which Roane recognized but somehow could not resist, brought Roane to half agreement now. Yet enough of her fought that compulsion so that she was able to persuade the Princess to return to the other end of the passage to meet their rescuers.
That Uncle Offlas would come she had no doubt, but how long he would take was another matter. Especially if he had to avoid searchers in the woods. And she said as much in warning to the Princess.
“But you can send a message—though why tapping on that ugly arm circlet carries a message—” Momentarily she was diverted. “I do not know who you truly are. But that you are not of Reveny, nor of any kingdom I know, I will swear to. Had you not brought me out of that tower, I would not—” Again she paused. “But I stand here and not in the hands of Reddick’s men, so I have a measure of trust in you. Send another message to those you say will come to unseal us; tell them to use my name to the garrison at Yatton. There is there Colonel Nelis Imfry. He was of the palace wards before he took service with the March Guards. Summoned in my name, he will come. You may tell your people, if those clicks really talk, to say to him—”
“No.” Roane shook her head. “They will not go to Yatton nor any other place for your guard, no matter what message I send.”
Perhaps she was wrong in being so definite about that. It might arouse Ludorica’s suspicions even further. But she must make plain before the camp party arrived that they would not give the Princess any help in solving her complicated problems of dynastic inheritance.
“My people are sworn”—she tried to put the situation into words the Princess would understand—“by oaths, very tightly binding, to have naught to do with the affairs of others. I have already broken this oath by what I have done since we met. For this I shall have to pay. But you will find deaf ears if you ask for any aid from those who come.”
They were passing the wall panel which the Princess could not see but which so fascinated Roane. The latter kept her eyes resolutely turned from temptation. And at that moment the com on her wrist flashed. She did not need the beamer light to read the sparked code.
Sandar! But no mention of Uncle Offlas. Only a sharp demand that she turn the call beam higher so that he would have a guide.
“They are here now!” She began to run along the smooth flooring, not caring whether the Princess followed or not.
Back in the entrance cave she again faced that plug of stone and clay, cautiously, since she did not know the force of the tool they would use to clear it. And she threw out an arm to hold the Princess to an equally safe distance.
The latter had given no vocal protest when Roane had denied her help. But she was smiling with anticipation. There was such an aura of confidence about her that Roane was uneasy. Perhaps she should have given her the whole truth in
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