She had not yet stumbled upon the country she was seeking in her endless wanderings. Fearful of human contact, she traveled onward, always towards the rising of the sun.

She slipped down the road through the forest, dodging other travelers on the path. She continued past the inn where they stopped for the night, a persistent shadow in the falling dusk. Shivering, she sought shelter from the bitter wind. She left the path and crept through the undergrowth to a small clearing. Few people traveled during the winter months, but desperation had driven her to a nomadic existence.

She sank gracefully to the ground, huddling close to the tree that sheltered her. A tiny path wound past the other side, but the stately oak hid her from sight. She built a small fire, making a vain attempt to warm her feet as she ate the few dry crusts she had scavenged. She ate slowly, savoring the morsels that even the birds had refused. Then she slipped into a better world, where she could not think about hunger or loneliness.

~*~

A dog slunk along the path, trying to make himself invisible. Too many people had been throwing stones lately, but the warmth of the fire beckoned. One dangling ear caught on a branch as he stuck his head up to sniff. He drifted slowly into the clearing.

For all his elephantine size, he had a stately grace – despite his ugly face and scarred hide. He approached the fire warily. Usually someone was sitting watch to chase him away. He peered across the fire to where the one human slept. She was huddled up at the foot of the tree, and didn't look averse to his sharing the fire's warmth.

But still...he crept over to her and nudged her foot with his cold nose. She only drew her foot up close in her sleep. The fire cast a glow over her face and her hair, spilling like flames across the green moss, framing the fine features that were etched with sorrows not even sleep could remove.

She was a tiny figure, small-boned and perfectly crafted. The cloak that covered her was in rags, leaving bare her slender legs and exposing her threadbare dress. Neither presented a challenge to the bitter wind. Her feet, hardened by long days of walking without shoes, were now tucked under her. One hand clasping a small amulet was flung wide. With a hurumph the dog settled himself down beside her to sleep. Two would stay warmer than one.

~*~

When the sun broke on the horizon, thin bars of pale light penetrated the branches of the old oak to rest upon the two sleeping figures. As the morning touched her face, the girl woke reluctantly. She was dreaming of being so warm...then the heavy weight on her hip and the fur under her cheek registered. Frantically she curled away and rolled to her feet, spinning to see a huge hound getting up awkwardly. They both stared, poised to flee. Then the dog whimpered sadly and ducked his head. Puzzled, the girl held out a hand to him. He wasn't really that bad looking. He was a funny color, all golden with a white undercoat, and his ears were really big, but other than that he looked just like a puppy she had seen once. He just had a lot more battle scars.

The dog sniffed her hand, then his long tail began to wag tentatively. He woofed quizzically when she didn't yell at him. She smiled, waving her hands at him. "I will call you Ober." Then she rubbed behind his ears as he pushed his head beneath her hand.

All that day they traveled together. "I like having you around," she told him happily, as he glared menacingly at a man walking towards her with a suggestive look. Later, she shoved the hood back from her face so she could see around her. "You have no idea what it is like trying to keep men away so that I can't see anything."

They curled up together again for the night. There had been more and more people recently. Ober kept watch, whuffling softly as she fell asleep. He liked her. She was very quiet, even if she kept waving her hands around.

~*~

Wagon wheels rattling by woke them just before dawn. "I sure won’t marry her for her cooking," a man’s voice grumbled. He threw something soft into the road. Ober went to sniff at it, gave a startled snort, then carried it to his new mistress hidden in the hedge. She clapped her hands with delight and burrowed into the sack: out came a variety of foodstuffs. "We will eat like kings!"

She handed him the meat pies and tore at a loaf of bread. Maybe the man hadn't liked this food, but after scraps from the ash pit, it was a feast.

They had nearly finished eating when Ober glanced up alertly: a solitary horseman was riding up the road. The girl shrank back as he pulled up beside their hiding place, but he seemed not to see them.

"Ah, that must be the tree," he exclaimed. "A knotty pine that looks like a man." He dismounted, pulled something out of the splintery "mouth," and dropped something else in. As he rode away a glitter falling from the pouch he had taken caught her eye.

At last they crept from under the hedge. She picked up the curious ring that had fallen into the dust, and almost dropped it in her shock. Her father’s voice echoed in her mind: Beware of the crested serpent. She must be very close if the man had carried this device. But this was an inauspicious start! Swiftly she retrieved the pouch the messenger had left. Better to know the worst. She hid it under her cloak, then motioned to Ober to continue down the road towards the dawn.

~*~

By midmorning they had reached the outskirts of a large town. She began to listen alertly. "I don't know where we are, Ober," she warned him as they approached the gate. "Hopefully someone will say soon."

"Sadri Eldwin?" one of the guards asked when his commander paused mid-sentence. He followed the Sadri’s gaze to the little red-haired beggar walking through the gate. Where could she have gotten that dog? If it wasn't such an odd color, it could have been one of the king's own.

"Wait," the Sadri said shortly. With the current uneasy truce between Bronisel and Napaea, it was better to be overly cautious. He motioned to one of his attachés and stepped aside. After a brief consultation the man followed the girl down the street. The guard shrugged as the Sadri turned away from the little beggar – she didn’t look like any danger to him.

~*~

Following the bright red hair down the busy street, the attaché stumbled back suddenly, attempting to avoid a sudden fall of apples as the cart in front of him was toppled by a huge dog. The girl seemed to call the dog on as she disappeared into the indignant mob swirling around the cart.

"Yar shouldna' be makin' passes at purrty lasses when ye got one a yar own!" a robust peasant woman scolded from a nearby stall, backhanding the peddler as he struggled to rise. He had lost sight of the girl. Distracted, he tripped over the rolling fruit and went down, tearing his pants. He sighed and continued on. If it weren't for the Sadri.…

Finally he spotted a flash of red through the crowd laughing at a glick-glock show. He pushed his way thorough the adults standing on the outside of the circle and saw her. Her face was alight with amusement as she watched the puppets arguing. He hesitated, watching her, and suddenly the girl grew very intent. She appeared to be listening to another conversation, her head cocked to hear better, though she did not take her eyes from the squabbling puppets. She brought her hands together suddenly, and her face became solemn. She touched the dog sitting next to her gently and moved her hands swiftly about for a second. His breath caught. The Sadri was right! She did use pattern speech. "I am home!" she told the dog. "I have found Napaea."

Then she collapsed without warning, flurrying the crowd around her. The woman she had fallen against laid her down awkwardly on the cobblestones. The dog snuffed at her anxiously, then stood over her.

The attaché pushed his way over. "Da mae'n," he told the dog, holding out a hand. The dog sniffed, then sat down obediently to wait. He wrapped her in his cloak and scooped her up. The people moved back to let him through. No one bothered Eldwin's guards, no matter what odd things they chose to do.

He was startled by how little she weighed. When had she last had a square meal? A cold nose touched his hand – the dog was following. What a sight we must look, he thought ruefully. A few people looked at the Sadri's man, carrying a bundle with dangling legs. Most eyes were drawn to the gangly dog that followed. Many remarked that it should have been one of the king's but for its odd colors. He strode into the barracks with relief and headed for the commander's house.

~*~

"You were right, sir," he told the Sadri. "She does use the pattern speech. She seemed very excited to find herself in Napaea."

"Is she all right?"

"I don’t know, sir, she just collapsed. She’s just skin and bones."

She began to stir in his arms. He set her in a chair and unwrapped the cloak, barely dodging the dog’s sloppy reassuring kiss. She looked very disoriented.

"Take her to rest," Sadri instructed his housekeeper. "She needs food and a bath. Don't worry if she doesn't talk much."

The girl looked after him, puzzled. "I’m called Mistress Alak," the old woman told her, shepherding her along to a small room where nourishing soup and bread were brought. The girl ate with butterfly quickness, then Ober kept guard as she tentatively washed in the tin tub of steaming water and scrubbed herself dry. She had wrapped herself in a towel when Mistress Alak reappeared with a nightgown and a pale green dress, ready to bundle away her old clothes to be burned if not for the girl’s obvious distress. At last she stuck them into an old sack and placed them next to the bed, shooing a reluctant Ober out the door.

As soon as she was unobserved the girl dug into the bag, scrabbling for the dirty amulet in the midst of the clothing. She burrowed into the inner pocket of her cloak for the pouch, then, with a furtive glance at the door, crouched beside the bed and prized it open.

~*~

A few hours later Mistress Alak reappeared, to find the girl huddled in the corner of the room, braced for flight. "Here, now," she said soothingly. "You’ve nothing to fear from the master, child. He doesn’t bring people into his home to harm them!"

The girl said nothing, wringing her hands. Mistress Alak, shaking her head at her distress, drew her gently to the door of the study and knocked.

"Come," said a voice from inside. The girl stood frozen in place. The old woman opened the door and gave her a little push inside.

"She’s all affright, Sadri!" she told him in puzzlement.

He looked at the tiny girl, half-hidden behind his robust housekeeper. He smiled kindly. "I won’t hurt you, child. I just want to help you." He held out a hand to her, beckoning her forward.

She took a few steps, shy and graceful as a fawn. She looked at him intently, as if she sought to read his heart.

"What are you called?" he asked, dropping his eyes before her intensity. Her eyes strayed to his desk. She took two steps forward, and her eyes shone when she caught sight of the crest carved into the front. She fluttered her hands in a quick pattern before her, then noticed he wasn’t looking at her and stamped.

"What is your name, child?" he asked again, looking up at the sudden noise.

She repeated the pattern with added intensity.

"Where did you learn that?" he asked, amazed. "I haven’t seen anyone use that sign since...who are you?"

Before she could answer, a boy crashed though the door. "Where is she?" he demanded. "Where is the girl from the market? I want to see her!"

Like a startled wild creature, the girl would have fled had not the man not risen quickly in rebuke. "Aleron!" he said sternly. "Right now she is talking with me. Your position does not give you permission to be rude. You may go."

"I apologize, Sadri Eldwin," the lad responded automatically, staring at the girl. She stared back at him with wide topaz eyes. "I did not mean to give offense." He bowed formally, and tried unsuccessfully to walk decorously out of the room while keeping his head turned to watch the girl.

The Sadri turned back to the girl, who had appeared at his side and was tugging at his sleeve. She signed again, "You do understand?"

"I do, though I might not know all your signs. ‘Dawn-beautiful’ – Zerlindra?" he repeated aloud.

She nodded. "I was named after my grandmother." A sudden look of ecstasy crossed her face, then she began to cry.

"Here now, what’s wrong?" he asked. She shook her head, smiling crookedly as the tears came faster. He tried awkwardly to comfort her. Sobs racked her almost emaciated frame. After a time they subsided enough that she could gesture.

"I am so very happy! I haven’t been able to talk to anyone for so long!"

"How long have you been alone?"

"Since my father died. The villagers were scared of my patterns. When he died they drove me out of the house and burned it. They said I had spelled their livestock and that they would kill me if I ever came back."

"But how long ago did he die?"

"This is the second winter."

Eldwin stifled an exclamation. No one had dreamt the report of Rhys’s death was untrue. And there was no way she could be anyone else’s daughter. "Tell me," he commanded.

He watched closely, asking her to repeat some signs he had not seen before. His face darkened as she related how the villagers had driven her out because she was a "half-made one" – good for nothing and deserving nothing – and a witch woman besides, making all those signs. She had wandered down the road aimlessly for a while, but the other villages were just the same. After a few villages, she avoided people any way she could.

"I wanted to find Napaea. Papa wanted to go back to his country so much. But I wasn’t sure where it was, and I couldn’t ask directions because people would hit me, or maybe burn me at the stake. So I traveled east, because of the song: ‘Ever East the Sun, on his path Napaea.’ I looked for the morning star and followed the sun."

"Welcome home, Zerlindra," said Eldwin gently, and drew her into an embrace. "You’ve found it and no one will send you away."

She smiled happily up at him. "I am so glad! My father told me I could trust you."

She stiffened slightly, noticing a crested serpent on one of the parchments on his desk. Her eyes were suddenly sad as she looked at him bewilderedly. "Who was that boy?" she asked to cover her confusion.

"That is Aleron. He is the king’s nephew and heir. It would be good if you could be friends with him, teach him your language."

~*~

Zerlindra settled into life at Eldwin’s house quickly. For the first few weeks she lived quietly. She spent her time eating and sleeping, interspersed with short walks in the garden with Ober as she gained her strength back. She was mostly alone because Sadri Eldwin was often away, training his men and overseeing his properties. She kept the amulet around her neck constantly, and hid the pouch and ring she had discovered under her mattress. She thought of it often, wondering what would be best to do with it.

One morning the garden seemed especially beautiful, and she decided to stay out a while. She settled herself on a bench with Ober lying at her feet, watching the little birds hopping around the path of the garden looking for food. Then a loud noise startled her, and the birds flew away. Zerlindra looked around and saw the boy hiding in the bush across the path. She darted over to him and grabbed his cloak before he could escape. She shook her head at him and stamped angrily. "I can hear perfectly fine! That was mean!"

Eldwin saw them from the window of his study. Aleron, a tall stocky boy of fourteen, was clearly taken aback by this whirlwind of wrath. "It looks like a sparrow attacking a crow," he thought aloud. "Though I have never seen a sparrow with red hair!"

She was shaking her gloved hand under his nose. Then she turned and stalked towards the house, pulling him after, with Ober "encouraging" him from behind.

Moments later there was a knock on his door. "Come," said Eldwin.

Zerlindra burst into the room, Aleron in tow. "Tell him I can hear! He shouldn’t make loud noises to scare me," she gestured in frustration.

"She isn’t very happy with you, Aleron. Why did you try to scare her?"

"I just wanted to see her jump," Aleron sulked. "Why is she so upset? How come she just waves her hands like that?"

"That is how she speaks," Eldwin told him.

"Oh. What is she saying?"

"She’s still yelling at you. Maybe you should have her teach you her signs, then you won’t need a translator."

"Why should I learn from a girl?"

"Your uncles used a similar language for many years when they were young. They could talk across crowded rooms and in front of people without their knowing what was said. It is an old pattern speech that men used in battle to communicate silently. I have taught it to many of my commanders. It is very useful for battle situations. Or diplomacy."

Aleron looked grudgingly interested. "Well, maybe it would be okay to learn."

"It might be advantageous for you to know later in life."

Aleron looked warily at the girl who was still scowling at him. "Can you ask her to teach me, Sadri?"

Eldwin chuckled. "She can hear, Aleron, just not speak. Ask her yourself. Now run along. Go have your first lesson somewhere else."

~*~

So the two children become grudging friends. Aleron began to see the advantage of having a "secret" language and a companion, and Zerlindra was glad to have another person to talk to, even if she was frustrated by his ignorance. Eldwin helped sometimes, translating more abstract concepts for Aleron.

"I am glad you came," Aleron told her one day. "It does get boring here sometimes. Sadri Eldwin is always so busy with looking after the cardion."

"It's a lot of land to be in charge of," Zerlindra reminded him.

Aleron sighed. "I guess. All the things he shows me about it seem awfully complicated. I’m glad you started to come along on our trips. I wanted to run away before you came.

"Have you asked Uncle Eldwin if you could go back for a visit?"

"I live there, silly! Here is visiting. Besides, if I went back, I would probably forget how to sign ‘hello’ or something simple like that. I should take you with me. My mother would like you."

~*~

As their friendship grew Aleron began helping Zerlindra train Ober to signed commands, and found that she could beat him at batavi every time. Eldwin found them in the middle of a game one day. Zerlindra was waiting impatiently as Aleron glared at his pieces. With three more moves she would have him trapped. "It looks like you’re finished, Aleron."

"I know!" The boy growled with frustration. "She does it every time and I can never see how."

"It was almost a draw last time. And it was a draw the first time," broke in Zerlindra, anxious that she not lose her sole opponent. "I hadn't had a chance to play for almost two years!"

"Is that supposed to make him feel better?" chuckled Eldwin. "Maybe you need to find another opponent, Zerlindra."

"The servants don’t play," she shrugged.

"Perhaps I can find someone else who has time to play. I have many men sitting around waiting for a war to break out right now."

And so began the parade of subalterns and attachés to play batavi with her. They all complained that she was too pretty and distracted them. Few of them came back after being beaten by a mere girl, even if she did it so charmingly. The Sadri chuckled and became thoughtful as the weeks went by. She certainly understood the strategy required of the war game these men played for their living. He began bringing her to his meetings with his men as they traveled about his cardion.

~*~

Late in the winter, after she had listened to Eldwin speaking to his tenants about security measures of the cardion, she came to his study looking for him. She brought with her the pouch she had collected from the tree.

"I know you will wonder why I have waited to bring this to you," she signed, "but I needed to be sure of you." She laid it in front of him. He drew out a parchment and began to read.

"Do you know what this says?" he burst out. She nodded. "Where did you get it? And do you know whom it was for?"

"When I first came, you had a letter on your desk from the person it was meant for. I didn’t know then who he was. I do now." She showed him the ring. Eldwin nodded sharply in understanding. He was all soldier now.

"So you have had this that long?"

She told him how she had come to find it. "I know it is late to know of, but I have been thinking about it since I found it. I have looked at all your maps and I know what we can do. There wasn’t much you could do about it until spring anyhow," she added apologetically. She began to outline her plan.

Eldwin’s eyes began to dance wickedly. "I should have known. You will be our secret weapon, Zerlindra, when this war comes to pass!"

~*~

When the winter had worn itself out, they set out for Carynsford, where the royal family of Napaea was gathered for their yearly conclave. Aleron was to participate for the first time in the men's talks. At Eldwin's home in the town Mistress Alak produced a beautiful dress for Zerlindra to wear. There were several other new dresses in the trunk. "Whose are these?" Zerlindra asked.

Mistress Alak saw her puzzlement, even if she didn't understand her sign. "These were the Lady Bitia's dresses. Sadri Eldwin thought if you could use them it was foolishness for them to lie useless in a chest somewhere."

"They are so beautiful!" She whirled around in the full skirt and curtseyed. The dull gold embroidery of the bodice glittered in the candlelight. "I will have to thank him very much." She waited impatiently until her maid Derva had dressed her hair in fiery curls cascading down her back. She set the little hooks in her ears through the holes Derva had made a few weeks earlier and admired the pretty green brilliants in the looking glass. Aleron had gotten them for her in the market. Derva wove the last ribbon into place.

"There! Now none will fault your clothes," she said with satisfaction. "Just in time for dinner too!"

Zerlindra smiled delightedly, then called Ober to her with a gesture and darted from the room. She met Eldwin at the top of the stairs. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she gestured ecstatically. "They are so beautiful! Now I will look fine when I go to see the king." She hugged him tight.

"Let me see," he suggested, unwinding her arms and holding her at arm's length. The pale yellow film of the skirt floated around her, and gold-embroidered flowers twined up the close-fitting bodice and trailed down the openwork sleeves. Yellow and gold ribbons wove through the curls flowing to her waist.

"You look beautiful," he told her. "I’m glad Bitia's dresses fit you. She would be happy to see another beautiful young woman using them."

~*~

The next day they were called to the king's palace. Ober surprised them by greeting several of the king’s hounds enthusiastically, until their handler called them to heel. "Here now, where did you get this one? He’s the image of Lady Amara’s favorite hound who was lost last season, but worse used."

Zerlindra looked worried. "I found him wandering. She won’t want him back, will she, Uncle Eldwin?"

"I doubt it is the same dog," Sadri Eldwin said dismissively. "He had apparently run away from his master when my ward found him."

"Could be him then. The lady’s keeper was right cruel, and dismissed just before he went missing. Never did find either one of them."

"Don’t worry, Zerlindra. She’s got lots of beautiful hounds. She probably won’t want him back all scarred up," Aleron reassured her.

~*~

Daily Zerlindra joined the king’s sister and her ladies while Aleron went with the rest of the men to the conclave sessions. The first few days, unsurprisingly, were filled with furious discussions about the uneasy relationship with neighboring Bronisel. Lord Garak, the king’s one-eyed friend, protested that they should uphold the peace and overlook a few petty raids along the border. His negotiations with King Ledrik would stand, he swore, and the raiders were merely dissidents who would be punished. Against him stood Sadri Eldwin and many of the other councilors, maintaining that these raids were testing forays and cautioning the king against trusting King Ledrik too closely.

After a few days they moved on to more mundane internal affairs, and Aleron, bored with the pompous discussions, began translating the complaints of one of the king's advisors into Zerlindra's gesture speech. Unfortunately he was in clear sight of the speaker.

"Your Majesty, this boy is mocking me," the counselor protested, interrupting his discussion on the drainage systems of his cardion, Decarn.

"I am not, Uncle Devir!" Aleron broke in.

"Be quiet," his uncle commanded coolly. "I had hoped that staying with Eldwin would have cured you of your impulsive behavior. I see I was wrong."

Aleron’s hands were muttering as Devir corrected him. "I was not mocking him. I was practicing!" His swift movements caught Devir’s eye.

A faint smile crossed his face. "So, Eldwin pulled out the old sign speech he taught us when we were boys. How did you get him to teach you?"

"It wasn’t Sadri Eldwin," admitted Aleron. "It was Zerlindra."

"Ah, this Zerlindra again. I shall have to meet her soon. Why don’t you go find her and bring her here." He turned back to the counselor. "Let us put this matter aside for a time. Sadri Eldwin, I have considered your request to name an heir, and would like to put it before the conclave."

"Why, Sire?"

"While we do permit the inheritance of land by daughters if there has been no male issue, those who are appointed king’s heir to a particular cardion, especially one so vast as your own, are usually seasoned administrators. You propose that this position be granted to a young woman who is unknown to us. This calls for much consideration. Did you also intend for her to be trained as Sadri?" he asked dryly.

The other counselors murmured among themselves. One or two who had been hoping to fill Sadri Eldwin’s shoes looked angrily at the old man.

"That wasn’t quite what I had in mind, Sire, though she does have quite a grasp of strategy, and my men are the only ones who understand her speech," Eldwin replied in a quiet, warning voice.

"Who is she, Eldwin? I was not aware that you had any wards."

"Neither was I. She was found wandering half-starved in the market place, signing to her dog. I picked her up, since she had to be the child of an officer."

"Whose child is she, then?"

The ornate doors at the end of the hall slammed back as the astonished guards sprang to attention. Silence fell over the room as everyone jerked to face the door. Aleron was urging Zerlindra into the room, but she shrank from the men’s stares and drew back behind him. Ober rumbled threateningly at her side.

At last Aleron led her forward to the king’s chair. Zerlindra drew herself up and curtsied formally. Muffled exclamations rose around her as the men saw her face, but Devir scowled as he looked at the small girl before him.

"Who is she?" he demanded.

"You know, Devir. Who is the only person she could be?"

"But Rhys is dead!" he exclaimed under his breath.

"He had married Fandona before he was exiled, and she followed him," Eldwin responded in an undertone.

The king’s face darkened. "You knew she was here, and who she was, and didn’t tell us?"

"I thought it prudent to…."

"No, Eldwin," the king spat. "She will NOT be named your heir. Blood calls to blood."

"Perhaps it does, sire…" Eldwin began.

Ober barked suddenly, interrupting them. Both men looked at him as Zerlindra removed her hand from the dog’s head.

"I bring you a message from my father," she said into the astonished silence. "He wanted me to give you this." She withdrew the amulet from around her neck and held it out to the king.

He shrank back. "We do not want it. He is nothing to this kingdom."

She stamped and glared at him. "I did not spend three years starving to fail my father. I will fulfill his dying request. If you won’t take it, I will have Sadri Eldwin read it aloud here and I will not be held responsible for the havoc it will cause!" She held it out to him again.

He glared back as he took it. He drew out a small key, and his face blanched. "So the truth will be told!" he breathed.

"What, Sire?" one of the councilors asked.

King Devir looked away from Zerlindra, recalling where they were. "We are finished for today. We must consider this matter more thoroughly. You will both come with us," he commanded Eldwin and Zerlindra. "Aleron, go tell your lady mother that we will see her before our meal."

They withdrew to a small antechamber. King Devir, opening the amulet, drew out a tiny scroll. "So, young woman, you bring me messages from the dead. Do you know what it says?"

"No. My father wanted to come himself, but he said it would be too dangerous. He talked of the day when he would send me to you. But he caught the sickness in the village and died before it came."

"Did he tell you why it would be dangerous?"

Zerlindra nodded. "Yes. But he truly did not know! He never wished you dead."

"Tell that to Garak," the king said sharply. "He lost his eye saving our life. Would that it had been your father’s instead!" He caught her glare and stopped abruptly. "We would be alone to read this. Guard her well, Sadri."

Zerlindra curtseyed gracefully and Sadri Eldwin bowed his head in acknowledgement as they withdrew.

~*~

"Please, Sadri, what will happen now?" Zerlindra asked when they returned to his house.

"Ahh, Zerlindra, what did you mean by not telling me long ago that you had a message for Devir?" Eldwin countered as he sat down by the batavi board.

"I promised not to speak of it to anyone."

"Your father was wise in that. There are still those who hate him. You know of one."

"But why? He should have known his brother would never try to kill him!"

"Come then, let us finish our game. It is not a pretty tale, and I do not know all of it, but I will try to tell you."

Eldwin settled into his favorite chair and Zerlindra perched eagerly across from him. He gazed thoughtfully at the board. "When they were all young and foolish, your mother came to the conclave one winter. She was the daughter of an outlying lord, and this was the first time she had appeared. All the men vied for her attention and favor. Unfortunately for all comers, her eyes had already been caught and held by the king’s fiery-haired brother. Some were jealous and began to hate him."

Eldwin sighed as he took his move and looked up at Zerlindra. "You are much like her, but also like him, my child." He watched as she pondered her move and continued.

"In the weeks that followed, there was an attempt to assassinate Devir. Somehow, one of your father’s enemies managed to involve Rhys in the plot enough to implicate him in the assassination, though I am as certain as you that he never meant for harm to come to his brother.

"The night before he was to be executed, Fandona went to Devir to plead for mercy, and begged him to spare the father of her child. There was a great commotion when she confessed that they had secretly married before the assassination attempt…in good times and bad, she quoted to the angry suitors. I remember that well." He smiled slightly. "Devir remitted his sentence to lifelong exile from the kingdom, upon pain of death should he ever return.

"A few months later word came that they had been set upon by robbers and killed. The messenger brought your mother’s ring and a small chest of your father’s. I wonder if he sent that message himself," Eldwin mused. "It would be like him. It would have kept his family safe from further revenge."

"He missed this place very much," Zerlindra signed wistfully. "I wish he could have come back with me."

"Unfortunately not," Eldwin sighed. "Fandona’s father was very powerful, and the men were looking for more than a pretty face. There was years of negotiation over his property after his death. King Devir finally granted it to Lord Garak. It is a small holding, but very close to the border with Bronisel and so strategically important. Your father would have held it well."

"Is it Lord Garak’s property that is being raided?"

"Where did you hear of that?" Eldwin asked sharply.

"Aleron comes and tells me what you have been talking about. That way he gets to practice and I get to talk about something more interesting than dresses and embroidery."

Eldwin sighed. "Be careful even in your signs. Many of the men were under my training. Yes, it is his property, and his indifference has puzzled me. I would at least act upset if the man I had negotiated a treaty with couldn’t keep his soldiers under better control, especially if I were secretly in collusion with him. I wonder what other messages were sent between the one that you brought and the last one we intercepted." He shook his head. "But it is late, and I must be up early. Good night, my dear." He kissed Zerlindra gently on the forehead and sent her off to bed. When she had gone he sat glaring at the fire, puzzling over Garak’s behavior in the face of his secret treachery.

~*~

Long after midnight, he jolted awake to someone pounding at the front door. He stepped into the hall as his guards admitted a cloaked man.

"Sadri," the man called softly.

"Come," Eldwin answered. He led the way back into his library. As soon as they were alone his visitor pulled back his hood. King Devir looked at the batavi board with interest.

"Who is winning?"

"Zerlindra," Eldwin answered. "She has a lot of her father in her."

Devir’s eyes grew dark as he handed the tiny scroll to Eldwin.

"Did you know?" Devir demanded after he had finished reading.

"I suspected, Sire, but had no proof until recently." Eldwin moved to his desk and removed the parchment that Zerlindra had given him. He handed it to Devir, who swore as he read.

"Why did you not tell me!"

"Would you have believed me?" Eldwin looked at him steadily.

Devir finally shook his head. "No, you are right. I would have trusted him with my life."

"And lost it quickly."

"What can I do!" complained the King.

Eldwin chuckled. "Zerlindra provides the perfect solution! She had already planned a counter-attack when she gave this to me. We can now go one step further to thwart his well-laid plans."

The next day Zerlindra accompanied Sadri Eldwin to the conclave. Her hair was coiled skillfully on top of her head, and she wore one of Bitia’s dresses, this one a deep shimmering blue. Disapproval at her presence radiated from Lord Garak, mixing hatred with his long bitter disappointment.

"We have a new difficulty to consider," the king began, after Zerlindra had curtseyed and taken her seat before the throne. A bitter note crept into his voice. "Despite her parentage, she is still an heir of the royal family. As such, she must be accorded her rights under our laws."

The members of the conclave began to murmur among themselves. "What do you mean, my liege?" an aged councilor asked. "Her father was a traitor. As such he had no rights and no claim to the throne."

Garak agreed, pompously. "Any rights she may have had were forfeited by her father’s traitorous actions and his sentence of banishment."

"No," remonstrated one of the judges who sat on the council. "A family member who has been proven to have no involvement with the treason is still accorded his rights. Her youth absolves her from any wrongdoing, and hence prevents anyone from denying her the rights of inheritance."

A frown flashed across Lord Garak’s face and was quickly repressed. Yet another inconvenience to be overcome.

"Eldwin has requested her as his heir. It is a cardion befitting one of her rank, but we are loath to place the burden of such a large holding on such young shoulders," continued King Devir. Several heads nodded around the room. Sadri Eldwin’s holding surrounded Carynsford and was the last line of defense around the throne. To place a mere girl in charge would be folly.

"Perhaps a suitable marriage?" suggested a recently widowed councilor, a speculative glint in his eye. Ober growled deep in his chest.

"We had considered this, but she is still young. We have come to a better solution. We will restore her grandfather’s lands to her."

A shocked clamor filled the room. After all the years of debate over those lands, to hand them back to a slip of a girl. And while they were under attack!

Garak’s jaw dropped. "Iiranea!" he protested. "Devir, you can’t! You have given it to me!"

Eldwin quickly concurred. "My liege, surely you wouldn’t place her there with these unresolved raids! It is far too dangerous!"

Devir’s brow lowered. "We have decided! If she fails to keep them, she will show that she is not worthy of her blood."

Stunned, the council fell silent. Still so angry after all these years!

"We will send her with a cadre of our own guard to assist in rooting out these raiders. That will be sufficient. As Lord Garak says, they are merely ruffians."

"Perhaps, my liege, you would like me to continue to oversee the cardion while the child learns her duties?"

"If Eldwin believes she is fit for his heir, who are we to disagree? She must be well-equipt already. No, we feel that Eldwin is right in seeking an heir to train. We would have you take that place."

Garak’s eyes shone, almost feverish in their intensity. He hid it quickly, bowing his head in acceptance. "As you will, Sire."

"As for you, Zerlindra," Devir continued stonily, "you are excused from the remainder of this council. Next year will be time enough to take your place among us. You will be accompanied by our guard to Iiranea. We place it in your care. We hope our trust is not misplaced."

"As you will, Sire," Zerlindra answered demurely. "I shall not fail you."

"Did you see his eyes?" She danced with glee, whirling around Eldwin. "He is so happy to be your heir that he has forgotten. I think he wants badly to be king, Eldwin." She stopped her happy capering. "You need to warn my uncle!"

"What does he need to warn me of, Zerlindra?" She jumped at Devir’s voice behind her as he was shown into the library. "And why would you want to warn me of anything after my words today?"

Her eyes grew sad. "You are my father’s brother. He loved you with all his heart. He sent me, with all the danger I could face, to warn you. I would fail if I did not try to save you from the man who destroyed him."

"Did you know what he sent me?"

"I knew that it had to do with Garak, and that it would clear my father’s name."

"That chest contained all the papers that Garak had sent him concerning the assassination. I recognized his handwriting." He bowed his head. "They confirm that Garak was the mastermind behind it, and that Rhys had no idea what he was planning."

Zerlindra rested her hand on his shoulder gently. "He wanted to tell you, but felt so ashamed to have been involved at all."

"I spurned my brother and took our enemy to my bosom." He turned to Eldwin. "I cannot understand why he has done nothing for so long!"

Eldwin cleared his throat. "Zerlindra and I have discussed that question. We think that he saw the consequence of his last attempt, and realized that if he tried such a thing again he would never be granted the throne. This way took longer, but it was much more subtle, and probably would have succeeded."

"How do you know it won’t?" Devir demanded bitterly.

Eldwin laughed. "He never expected our secret weapon to arrive and uncover his plot."

Zerlindra grinned, her eyes sparkling. "I almost ran away when I found out that my father’s enemy was the king’s trusted advisor. But we think it will turn out well. See?"

She pointed to the batavi board. "The Sadri has been playing the enemy, and we are holding our own. The plot changes as we intercept more messages, but that should be even easier now that he is in Eldwin’s pocket."

Devir examined the board more closely, then grinned. "And here I was concerned about sending you off to the wolves in Iiranea! You are your father’s daughter."

He grew solemn again, considering. "It will still be very dangerous. Be careful. I wasted years of my life hating your father for what I thought he had done. I don’t want to lose the one part of him that had been returned to me."

"You will not," Zerlindra promised. "You can’t think it was pure chance that I found you. Don’t worry so…after all, I am only a child!"

Both men laughed at her petulant look as she quoted Garak’s words.

"Your father named you well," Devir smiled. "You will keep our dawn bright, Zerlindra, both in spirit and in deed." He saluted her solemnly, then opened his arms and wrapped her in a tight embrace.

The End

---

(c) 2002
By Cynthia Frederick
All Rights Reserved
Biography

Illustration - "Zerlindra's JOurney" (Acrylic on Canvas)
(c) 2002
By Edward Shuman
All Rights Reserved

Edward Shuman is an art student at the University of Kentucky.