Free The Whim of the Dragon by PAMELA DEAN

out of the rocking chair. There was something strange in his tone. After a moment Ted recognized it as admiration. Admiration from Patrick was rare, and, just now, unnerving.
    “When’s the council?” said Patrick.
    “Eleven. We should go now.”
    “Oh, Lord,” said Patrick, standing up abruptly. “I have to go check my watch.”
    Well, thought Ted, Patrick would have to get the sword from Fence, who would say something to keep him in line. Ted waved him cheerily on his way and ran down to the Council Room. Randolph was there already, with the three girls. Ruth was wearing the sort of white flowing dress she had always worn in this country. Ellen and Laura had apparently, like Patrick, suffered a rebellion against the garments of the Hidden Land; they had put on their boys’ clothes from the battle.
    Randolph was wearing blue as usual, although he was no longer of the school of Blue Sorcery. In the late morning light he looked, if not all right, at least better than he had. The table in front of him was piled with books and scrolls and maps. Most of them were dusty. Ted was nerving himself to ask what they were for when Celia and Matthew came in, also piled with books and scrolls. Matthew, a long, thin young man with red hair and a sardonic eye, looked at the children with an expression of uneasy reproach and said nothing. Celia moved briskly past him, dumped her burden on the table, and smiled. She was taller than Matthew; she had sleek yellow hair braided down her back, and pale eyes that might have been blue or green or gray, and a long, puckered scar on her forehead.
    “Give you good morrow,” she said. “I am Celia, called Lady for my service to the last Queen; but in this company we dispense with sugary courtesy. Matthew is my husband, and the three yellow bees you’ve marked buzzing hither and yon making an upset are my children.”
    There was a muddled silence. Ted collected himself and said, “Thank you. You know our names and we don’t have any sugary titles. Laura is my sister. Ruth and Ellen are my cousins. The Patrick with the superior smirk who isn’t here is their brother.”
    Celia said, “You are welcome to High Castle.”
    “I doubt it,” said Ruth. “But it’s kind of you to say so.”
    Matthew grinned; Randolph actually looked at Ruth as if he were seeing her; Celia made a disapproving frown and then smiled too. “So,” she said. “Let plain speaking be the order of the day.”
    There was another silence, less uncomfortable, broken by the arrival of Fence, who sat down in the chair to the left of the one that had been King William’s. Celia and Matthew sat down too, and Ted gathered his courage and sat in the King’s chair.
    “Where’s Benjamin?” said Ellen. Ted knew that she was, as always, enjoying herself. He and Ruth and Laura, because they were not, would never have asked Fence that question.
    “Recovering himself,” said Fence, sitting down and exchanging some look with Matthew.
    “Is he terribly grieved?” said Ellen. She didn’t sound eager, but like somebody dispassionately in search of information.
    “He is so,” said Fence. “More to thy purpose, he is wroth. A saith, if a should lay eyes on one of you before the day is out, a will break that one between his two hands.”
    Ellen sat back abruptly. “We didn’t do anything.”
    “You cozened and deceived him, and all of us; if there was a necessity in’t, yet thou shouldst give Benjamin some little time to see it clearly.”
    “Can we have a council without Benjamin?” said Ted.
    “Well enough,” said Fence. “He hath told me his desires; and given leave for all of you to accompany what embassies we have chosen for you.”
    “Well, good.” Ted decided that this time he would out-wait Fence. Fence had called this council.
    Fence said, “I have spoken also to Andrew. I’d thought to have some small difficulty in the persuasion, but he seemed well pleased to have thee, my prince, and Randolph also, in