Trickster's Choice by Tamora Pierce Read Free Book Online

of Da’s Rajmuat spies, but Aly didn’t dare. Spies were not to be trusted. Her identity was a vital secret in this new, hostile world. Tortall’s enemies would pay any sum for her in order to use Aly against her family. They might even suspect that Aly knew something of her father’s work. If that happened, they would squeeze her like a lemon. With those stakes, an agent might give in to the temptation to sell her for a profit. Even a faithful agent’s communications to George might be intercepted. Aly had to get out of this one on her own.

    There was a chance that her family might locate her first. Mother couldn’t find her, if Aly’s dream had been true, and the god had made her believe it was. It had been too vivid, too clear, and too convincing for her to deny it. So Mother couldn’t scry her. Her father or Uncle Numair might track her down. Normally she would have expected Aunt Daine to have animals out to search, but Aunt Daine was in the process of having a child. Even the Wildmage couldn’t attend to things while carrying a baby that changed shape constantly.

    Still, Aly wasn’t going to wait for rescue. She would free herself. If that didn’t convince her father she would be a good spy, nothing would.

    Sudden hammering on the house door made her jump. She hid her tools and went to see who was outside. A big white man and two men-at-arms, all soaked to the skin from the warm, pouring rain, strode into the hall. Aly greeted the first man with the deep bow of a slave to someone who was clearly a luarin noble, her palms together before her chest. His men had brown and reddish brown skins, marking them as warriors from either the lesser raka nobility or the bulk of the regular population of the Isles.

    “I know it’s late and doubtless they’ve retired for the night,” the luarin nobleman said gravely, “but I’m afraid you must rouse the duke and duchess. Tell them Prince Bronau Jimajen has come with news of great import for them.
Royal
news.”

    Aly took the prince’s sopping cloak and went to rouse Ulasim. The likes of her didn’t visit Duke Mequen and Duchess Winnamine in their personal quarters. When she gave Ulasim Bronau’s message, the big raka went pale. “See the prince to the azure sitting room,” he ordered as he struggled into his tunic. “Show his men to the kitchen to be looked after. Ask Chenaol for refreshments for His Highness. Hurry!”

    Aly spread Bronau’s cloak before the kitchen hearth to dry as she passed on her orders to Chenaol. The cook sniffed. “Remember, you have the right to refuse if he invites you to his bed, girl,” she advised as she set out a tray and a bottle of wine. “His Grace will back you. He lets no one force his slaves. Not that many turn the prince down, though. When he visits the summer residences, he goes through maids like grease, a different one in his bed every night.”

    Aly nodded and ran to show Bronau to the sitting room. He took a chair with a sigh as Aly hurriedly lit candles, then the braziers that gave these city homes their warmth. As she worked, she reviewed what she knew of this man from the reports. Bronau was not of King Oron’s immediate family, but he was the brother-in-law of Princess Imajane, the king’s sole daughter. His older brother, Rubinyan, had married the princess. Everyone who knew him said that Bronau was a good man in a fight, a commander who had the respect of his men and the affection of the king and his family.

    Aly glanced at him as she got the braziers going. He looked taller than he actually was, being only three inches taller than Aly. He had a warrior’s build, with broad shoulders and heavily muscled thighs, fierce gray eyes, and winged brows over a nose that had been broken once. He wore his reddish brown hair in waves to his shoulders but kept his beard closely trimmed. His big hands carried an assortment of weapon scars. The main flaw in his comeliness lay in the mouth framed by his beard. His