Trickster's Choice by Tamora Pierce Read Free Book Online Page B

overnight.

    Eavesdropping was not an option. If she were observed anywhere but at her post by the door, she would be questioned. Instead she finished mopping the floor. Later she would see what she could learn to take home to her da.

    The next day the duke and duchess summoned the household to the hall where they held parties. It was the first time that Aly had seen any of the Balitang family but her master and mistress. Chenaol named them for Aly. The proud, brown-skinned girls, imperious sixteen-year-old Saraiyu and small, intense, twelve-year-old Dovasary, were the daughters of the duke’s first marriage, to a raka noblewoman. His two full-luarin children, a four-year-old girl, Petranne, and three-year-old Elsren who was still awkward on his short, rounded legs, were by Duchess Winnamine. Other relatives who lived in the house were present, cousins who served Winnamine as ladies-in-waiting, a great-aunt, and the duke’s uncle.

    Duchess Winnamine sat on the dais, her elegant hands neatly clasped in her bronze velvet lap. Her brown eyes were only slightly accented with kohl, her brown hair dressed in curls that were tied up, then threaded through a velvet net on her head. Her sharp, straight nose and neatly curved mouth gave evidence of a strong will. She wore pearl drops in her ears, a gold chain around her neck, and only three rings, which was restraint in jewelry for an Islander. Many wore rings on every finger and several earrings, men and women alike.

    Duke Mequen rose to his feet as the last to enter closed the doors behind them. He was about five feet ten inches tall, with the solid build of a man who rode a great deal but spent little time practicing weapons skills. His dark eyes were set under perfectly curved brows and framed by laugh lines. His nose was broad and straight, his mouth wide, his chin square. He wore his dark hair clipped short to draw attention away from the fact that it was retreating from his forehead. He was somberly dressed luarin-fashion in a black linen tunic over a silvery shirt and gray hose, with a ruby-hilted dagger at his waist, a signet ring on the index finger of his left hand, and a gold hoop ring in one ear. Aly liked the look of him. She already knew from his servants that he was a fair man, if unconventional in the way he ran his home and chose his wives. Now she could also see that he was well mannered and thoughtful, always nice traits to find in a noble.

    Slowly his people quieted. Mequen looked them over, hands clasped behind his back. “I’m sure you’ve heard rumors,” he said, his deep voice clear throughout the room. “His Majesty is no longer confident about my loyalty. He has invited me to prove it with expensive presents. While he evaluates these presents, my family and I are invited to visit our estates on Lombyn Island, where we must stay until he feels better about us.”

    Shock raced through the people like a physical thing. Some of their families, free and slave, had worked for the Balitangs for generations. Because the duke was uninterested in court intrigues, they had believed the king would never turn on him.

    “This breaks our hearts,” Mequen said, his sorrow plain on his face and in his voice. “We are forced to sell lands and slaves to give the king the reassurances he requires. And those we can take with us are dreadfully few. Our Lombyn holdings, the inheritance of Duchess Sarugani”—the mother of his older daughters—“are small.” He glanced at his steward. “Our chief sources of income are not gold and gems but sheep, goats, and rabbits. We cannot live there as we are accustomed to do. We cannot feed you all.”

    By now some of the women were crying. Husbands wrapped their arms around their wives. Children clung to their parents.

    The duchess rose. “We will do our best to see you are cared for,” she said, her calm voice flowing over them. “Our friends have asked to hire or purchase many of you. We will separate no families.