Bearers of the Black Staff

She released Phryne’s arm and stepped back, her face stricken. She was crying, and Phryne wondered suddenly if perhaps she had been wrong about her. What she was seeing was genuine; Isoeld was all but broken. Phryne had an almost overwhelming urge to embrace her, to tell her she was sorry, that she would think better of her after this. But instead she looked down at her feet, avoiding the other’s eyes. She couldn’t quite manage an apology. She wasn’t ready to let go of the past just yet.

“We must put this behind us, Isoeld,” she said, needing to say something. “We must be better friends.”

Isoeld nodded quickly, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Yes, we must do that. We both love your father. That should be reason enough.”

“Yes,” Phryne agreed, “it should.”

Isoeld tightened her grip on her basket. “I have to go. Can we talk more later?”

“Of course. Anytime you wish.”

Phryne watched her walk away and wondered if maybe this was a turning point in their relationship.



TWENTY MINUTES LATER, she was standing in her father’s office, speaking to him as she had promised her cousins and the pair from Glensk Wood that she would. But even given the importance of what she was attempting and her efforts to concentrate on the business at hand, she could not stop thinking about her confrontation with Isoeld. Something in the way the other woman had spoken to her had touched her heart and made her believe. But to have been so wrong and so mean-spirited was difficult to accept, and she was struggling with it.

“My cousins Tasha and Tenerife wish to hike up into the mountains north to Aphalion Pass, Father. They have visiting them a boy and girl from Glensk Wood, who are Trackers. They are sharing their skills and experience while here, and all of them want an outing where they can use those skills and that experience in a practical way. I was hoping you would give them permission to go.”

Her father was a man of average size and looks, the sort of man you might pass by without a second look. He had kind eyes and a pleasant, open smile, and he looked to be someone you might want for a friend. What set him apart was not immediately apparent. His voice, for instance, was deep and rich and compelling, and when he spoke of how the world was and how it needed to be and what was good for the people and the creatures that inhabited it, you believed him. More important, he believed, and it showed in his commitment to his service as King. Born into the royal family, a Prince since birth, he had always known that one day he would be King, and he had prepared himself. First Minister Teonette looked more the part—tall, strong-featured, and athletic—but it was her father who was centered and reliable and who instilled confidence in a way that few others could. While growing, he had observed how others reacted to his own father’s behavior and learned accordingly. But he had learned as well what it meant to win respect and admiration and gain real loyalty.

She was reminded of it now, as she was every time she stood before him, and the feeling generated was a mix of deep, abiding respect and love. Her father was a good and honorable man, and everyone who came in contact with him knew it.

He gave her a questioning smile. “And this was something they could not manage to ask me themselves?”

She shook her head. “No, Father, it isn’t that. They were perfectly willing to ask you, but I suggested it would sound better coming from me. I haven’t quite told you everything. I want to go with them.”

Oparion Amarantyne frowned. “Why would you want to do that?”

“For many reasons. I want to be a part of their adventure, and they have offered to let me accompany them. I want to learn something about tracking and scouting. They can teach me better than anyone. I am tired of sitting around in the city; I haven’t been anywhere in months. I need to do something, and I need to feel like it has meaning.”

“Your studies here have meaning.”

“My studies here are sedentary and boring. I am not saying they lack importance in my education. I know they don’t. But I want practical experience, too. This is my chance to gain a little of that.”

Her father pursed his lips. “No wonder you didn’t want them to make this request. It would be easier for me to turn them down than you.”

“I didn’t want them to have to make my request for me. I thought it better to face you myself. I learned from you; if you have something you want, you should be the one to ask for it.”

Her father studied her face without speaking for a moment, then rose and walked to the window. With his back to her, he said, “I know you pretty well, Phryne, and I think maybe there is something else at work here. Is there?”

She hesitated, her mind racing. He expected an answer, but she couldn’t give him the one he was looking for. “You’re right, Father,” she said, making it sound like a reluctant admission. “There is something more. I thought I might not have to tell you everything; some things I like to keep to myself. But in this case maybe that’s not best. So I will tell you. It is this boy, the one from Glensk Wood.”