Graceling (Graceling Realm #1)(17)
Author: Kristin Cashore

“This is a gruesome task we’re asked to perform,” Oll said. “Even without El is being your neighbor, it’s gruesome.”

“It is,” Giddon said. “But I see no way around it.”

They sat on an outcropping of stone and ate bread and fruit. Katsa watched the long grass moving around them. The wind pushed it, attacked it, struck it in one place and then another. It rose and fel and rose again. It flowed, like water.

“Is this what the sea is like?” Katsa asked, and they both turned to her, surprised. “Does the sea move the way this grass moves?”

“It is like this, My Lady,” Oll said, “but different. The sea makes rushing noises, and it’s gray and cold. But it does move a bit like this.”

“I should like to see the sea,” she said.

Giddon’s eyes on her were incredulous.

“What? Is it such a strange thing to say?”

“It’s a strange thing for you to say.” He shook his head. He gathered their bread and fruit, then rose. “The Lienid fighter is fil ing your mind with romantic notions.” He went to his horse.

She ignored him so that she didn’t have to think about his own notions of romance or his suit or his jealousy. She rode hard across the flatlands, and imagined she rode across the sea.

———

It was more difficult to ignore the reality of Giddon once they’d reached his castle. The walls were great, gray, and impressive. The servants flowed into the sunny courtyard to greet their lord and bow to him, and he cal ed them by name and asked after the grain in the storehouses, the castle, the bridge that was being repaired. He was king here, and she could see that he was comfortable with this, and that his servants were happy to see him.

Giddon’s servants were always attentive to Katsa, whenever she was at his court. They approached her to ask if she needed anything; they lit a fire for her and brought her water so she could wash. When she walked past them in the hal ways, they greeted her. She wasn’t treated this way anywhere else, not even in her own home. It occurred to her now that of course, Giddon had specifical y ordered his servants to treat her like a lady – not to fear her, or if they did fear her, to pretend they didn’t. all of this Giddon had done for her. She realized his servants must look upon her as their future mistress, for if all of Randa’s court knew Giddon’s feelings, then surely Giddon’s servants had interpreted them as well .

She didn’t know how to be at Giddon’s court now, realizing they all expected something of her she would never give.

She thought they’d be relieved to know she wouldn’t marry Giddon. They would exhale and smile, and prepare cheerful y for whatever kind, harmless lady was his second choice. But perhaps they only hoped for their lord what he hoped for himself.

Giddon’s hope bewildered her. She couldn’t fathom his foolishness, to fal in love with her, and she stilldidn’t entirely believe it to be true.

———

Ol grew increasingly morose about Lord El is.

“It’s a cruel task the king has asked us to perform,” he said at dinner, in Giddon’s private dining room, where the three of them ate with a pair of servants to attend to them. “I can’t remember if he’s ever asked us to perform a task so cruel.”

“He has,” Giddon said, “and we’ve performed it. And you’ve never spoken like this before.”

“It just seems…” Oll broke off to stare absently at Giddon’s wall s, covered with rich tapestries in red and gold. “It just seems that this is a task the Council wouldn’t condone. The Council would send someone to protect these daughters. From us.”

Giddon pushed potatoes onto his fork and chewed. He considered Oll’s words. “We can’t do any work for the Council,” he said, “if we don’t also fol ow Randa’s commands. We’re no use to anyone if we’re sitting in the dungeons.”

“Yes,” Oll said. “But still, it doesn’t seem right.”

By the end of the meal, Giddon was as morose as Oll . Katsa watched Oll’s craggy face and his unhappy eyes. She watched Giddon eating, his knife reflecting the gold and red of the walls as he cut his meat. His voice was low, and he sighed – they both sighed, Oll and Giddon, as they talked and ate.

They didn’t want to perform this task for Randa. As Katsa watched them and listened, the fingers of her mind began to open and reach around for some means by which they might thwart Randa’s instructions.

———

Po had said it was in her power to refuse Randa. And maybe it was in her power, as it was not in Oll’s or Giddon’s, because Randa could punish them in ways he couldn’t punish her. Could he punish her? He could use his entire army, perhaps, to force her into his dungeons. He could kill her. Not in a fight, but he could poison her, one night at dinner. If he thought her a danger, or didn’t think her useful, he would certainly have her imprisoned or kill ed.

And what if his anger, when she returned to court without El is’s daughter, inflamed her own? What would happen at court, if she stood before Randa and felt an anger in her hands and feet she couldn’t contain? What would she do?

It didn’t matter. When Katsa awoke the next morning in her comfortable bed in Giddon’s castle, she knew it didn’t matter what Randa might do to her, or what she might do to Randa. If she were forced to injure Lord El is today as Randa wished, it would set her into a rage. She sensed the rage building, just at the thought of it. Her rage if she hurt Lord El is would be no less catastrophic than her rage if she didn’t and Randa retaliated.

She would not do it. She wouldn’t torture a man who was only trying to protect his children.

She didn’t know what would happen because of this. But she knew that today, she would hurt no one. She threw back her blankets and thought only of today.

———

Giddon and Oll dragged their feet as they prepared their bags and their horses. “Perhaps we’l be able to talk him into an agreement,” Giddon said, lamely.

“Humph,” was Oll’s only response.

El is’s castle was a few short hours’ ride distant. When they arrived, a steward showed them into the great library, where El is sat writing at a desk. The walls were lined with books, some so high they could only be reached by ladders made of fine dark wood that leaned against the shelves. Lord El is stood as they entered, his eyes bold and his chin high. He was a small man, with a thatch of black hair, and small fingers which he spread across the top of his desk.

“I know why you’re here, Giddon,” he said.

Giddon cleared his throat uncomfortably. “We wish to talk with you, El is, and with your daughters.”

“I will not bring my daughters into present company,” El is said, his eyes flicking to Katsa. He didn’t flinch under her gaze, and he went up another notch in her estimation.

Now was the time for her to act. She counted three servants standing rigidly against the wall s.

“Lord El is,” she said, “if you care at all for the safety of your servants, you’l send them from this room.”

Giddon glanced at her, surprise apparent on his face, for this was not their usual mode of operation. “Katsa – ”

“Don’t waste my time, Lord El is,” Katsa said. “I can remove them myself if you will not.”

Lord El is waved his men to the door. “Go,” he said to them. “Go. all ow no one to enter. See to your duties.”

Their duties most likely involved removing the lord’s daughters from the grounds immediately, if the daughters were even at home; Lord El is struck Katsa as the type to have prepared for this. When the door had closed, she held her hand up to silence Giddon. He shot her a look of puzzled irritation, which she ignored.

“Lord El is,” she said. “The king wishes us to talk you into sending one of your daughters to Nander. I imagine we’re unlikely to succeed.”

El is’s face was hard, and stillhe held her eyes. “Correct.”

Katsa nodded. “Very well . That failing, Randa wishes me to torture you until one of your daughters steps forward and offers herself to the marriage.”

El is’s face didn’t change. “I suspected as much.”

Giddon’s voice was low. “Katsa, what are you doing?”

“The king,” Katsa said, and then she felt such a rush of blood to her head that she touched the desk to steady herself.

“The king is just in some matters. In this matter, he is not. He wishes to bul y you. But the king doesn’t do his own bul ying – he looks to me for that. And I – ” Katsa felt strong suddenly. She pushed away from the desk and stood tall.

“I won’t do what Randa says. I won’t compel you or your daughters to fol ow his command. My Lord, you may do what you will .”

The room was silent. El is’s eyes were big with astonishment, and he leaned heavily on the desk now, as if danger had strengthened him before and its lack now made him weak. Beside Katsa, Giddon didn’t seem to be breathing, and when she glanced at him, his mouth hung slightly ajar. Oll stood a little aside, his face kind and worried.

“Wel ,” Lord El is said. “This is quite a surprise, My Lady. I thank you, My Lady. Indeed, I can’t thank you enough.”

Katsa didn’t think a person should thank her for not causing pain. Causing joy was worthy of thanks, and causing pain worthy of disgust.

Causing neither was neither, it was nothing, and nothing didn’t warrant thanks.

“You don’t owe me gratitude,” she said. “And I fear this won’t put an end to your troubles with Randa.”

“Katsa.” It was Oll . “Are you certain this is what you want?”

“What will Randa do to you?” Giddon asked.

“Whatever he does,” Oll said, “we’l support you.”

“No,” Katsa said. “You won’t support me. I must be on my own in this. Randa must believe that you and Giddon tried to force me to fol ow his order, but couldn’t.” She wondered if she should injure them, to make it more convincing.

“But we don’t want to perform this task any more than you do,” Giddon said. “It’s our talk that propel ed you to make this choice. We can’t stand by and let you – ”

Katsa spoke deliberately. “If he knows you disobeyed him, he’l imprison you or kill you. He can’t hurt me the way he can hurt you. I don’t think his entire guard could capture me. And if they did, at least I don’t have a holding that depends on me, as you do, Giddon. I don’t have a wife, as you do, Oll .”