"Or maybe," Helki said quietly, "the person is so good that he's under our nose and we don't know."
"You're a ray of sunshine, aren't you?"
"Why are we worried about an Isencroft spy anyhow?" Helki asked. "I mean, they've got a stake in making this all work out."
"I didn't say we needed to be worried about it," Carroway said thoughtfully, "but on the other hand, it's nice to know where all the players are when the stakes are high."
"So how do we find this-spy?" Macaria asked, plucking absently at her lute. "We can hardly go asking door to door."
"We watch," Carroway said. He picked up his lyre. "Now let's play some music before Bian takes back our food."
THAT EVENING, CARROWAY reclined in the carriage as he watched the countryside slip past. The horses were keeping a good pace; it would
take less than a candlemark for him to reach Brightmoor, Lady Eadoin's manor house. He straightened the ruby silk collar of his tunic and picked at the fine sleeves that billowed to his cuffs. His mood was off. His thoughts still strayed to spies and conspiracies.
Keep this up and you won't be on the favored guest list.
The carriage crunched over dry leaves and fallen twigs. Despite his mood, he looked forward to seeing Lady Eadoin. As a girl, Eadoin had been the prettiest at court. When her beloved husband died young, Eadoin had contracted for her lands to provide produce for the palace, which settled her husband's debts and permitted her to maintain a gracious lifestyle. Sidestepping marriage proposals, Eadoin opened Brightmoor to Margolan's bards and artists, poets, and scholars. She hosted fabulous parties and held frequent salons for the young nobility not yet come of age. Balls and hunting parties, holiday feasts and lavish galas-Eadoin's festivities always featured the newest music, the latest fashions, the most beautiful young ladies, and the most handsome eligible young men.
As the years passed and the young nobility grew to love her as a mother, mentor, and icon, her genius became clear. When the young nobles came into their inheritances and their own grand estates, it would be their patronage upon which Eadoin would rely in her old age.
Eadoin remained a regular at court, maintaining her ties to the ruling nobility with the charms and grace that once made her the belle of all Margolan. Lady Eadoin was a force of nature.
She was waiting for him as the coach pulled up. Her golden white hair and her figure remained alluring. The cut of her fine brocade gown was flattering, and the jewels at her throat might have ransomed a prince.