Page 10 of Fox of Fox Hall

The first Potential was younger than Domvoda,possibly Fox’s age or older than Fox by only a year or two. Aninteresting choice for Domvoda to have made from whatever lists hadbeen presented to him by his advisors. Domvoda grew bored easily.Ordecidedto grow bored easily.

That assessment felt unfair, yet also correct.Fox let the thought exist without delving too much into it. ThisPotential, Byr Din Stilbis Zilbici et tzuks, had marvelously long,shining black hair and a tail tip of such gleaming red that itappeared suggestively wet in the light. His family was from far inthe north and the gorgeous doublet and wrap he wore were of a thickfabric that could not be comfortable in the heat.

The second, a byr in rank if not in officialtitle, was from the neighboring realm of Kanzarn and the court oftheirtelinya, which was apparently a word for ruler in aslightly different version of the ancient tongue. The secondPotential’s exact position among the Kanzarn nobility was difficultfor most of the byr around them to determine because the Kanzarndid not give all of those of noble blood the same honorary title asthe byr.

Fox suspected the byrcoulddeterminewhere Matlin Loriloft stood in the Kanzarn hierarchy, and were bothdispleased at the idea of different and distinct ranks within thenoble class and the fact that, by this reckoning, Matlin Loriloftlikely outranked most of them. The minor and ever-changingdifferences the byr used to determine status would never matter toher or to her family, which, from what Fox could grasp, was closelyrelated to the telinya.

Fox rather liked the byr confused anddiscomfited by someone uninterested in being one of them, but italso unfortunately meant that Matlin Loriloft spent most of the dayunsmiling and not deigning to speak with anyone who wasn’t the kingor closely connected to him. She did speak to Byr Conall, thoughwhether that was due to his reputation having crossed borders orthe prominent position he had at Domvoda’s table, Fox couldn’ttell.

He also couldn’t determine if Domvoda favoredone of the two yet. The king was at the center of his table,sipping wine without overindulging and responding politely towhatever conversational gambits his Potentials offered, but Foxcouldn’t see enough of his face to guess at what he thought. He wasprobably amused to see the byr floundering and maybe also at theopen ambition displayed by the visitors to have the one he chose befrom their families.

Fox did wonder about Matlin Loriloft being fromsuch heights yet putting herself forward as a mere bearer. Afterall, there was no guarantee Domvoda would marry or bestow anyofficial status on his chosen fertile. Maybe it was some politicalploy to gain a foothold in this kingdom. If so, she’d have to dosomething to seize Domvoda’s interest and Fox didn’t think she hadyet. Domvoda’s family would have thoughts on that they would sharein private, although the choice was ultimately the king’s.

Domvoda had glanced to Fox once, but Fox whenbowed his head to him without approaching him, Domvoda had turnedback to the table and his guests. He might have only wanted toensure Fox was paying attention.

If he thought jealousy burned in Fox’s breast,he was incorrect. More likely, he was going to ask for the CleverFox’s thoughts on the Potentials. He would not necessarily listento them, but he would ask. Tail relaxed, gaze bright, tone casual,he would inquire what his Fox thought of each of them in order todrive an imaginary knife into Fox’s chest… or simply to know Fox’sopinion, which Fox sometimes suspected Domvoda did value though hepretended otherwise, only to then be convinced moments later thatDomvoda did not value him even a little.

That was the trouble with Domvoda; for all thathe could be distant and cold, the country functioned and lived on.Threats, dragon or otherwise, were fought. Conditions were goodenough, though Fox believed they could be better. But he also knewthe histories, well, the histories in songs and stories, and therewere plenty of foolish rulers since the empress who had nearlybrought it all to ruin. And from the sound of it, even the empirehad fallen, so someone in charge had done something disastrous.Domvoda was many things, but he was not one of those rulersdestined for such a catastrophe. But at the same time, the countrycould be different and would never be, because Domvoda would notallow it.

Without any answers and his mind spinning, Foxalso spent the feast trying to observe the families of the newarrivals, wondering if any of them would be in the market for amusician with a smart mouth to entertain at their homes. It wasunlikely, since most of those who could afford to throw feasts andmassive parties would simply pay musicians as needed, but Fox idlyconsidered it, and what it might be like in the courts MatlinLoriloft was used to.

He trailed out into the gardens after everyonewhen the meal ended, stopping to wolf down the rest of what was onhis plate and to snag a few more pieces of fruit from the stillheavily laden tables. He walked in his finest slippers and spoke tono one for hours, keeping an eye on the rolling clouds above.

His skills were requested again for the latermeal, a smaller, more reasonable affair since the Potentials wereweary from their travels and had retired early. The usual byr werein attendance, which meant Byr Conall was not. Fox felt Domvoda’sgaze on him more than once although Domvoda did not addresshim.

By the end of the night, Fox’s fingers hurt andhis stomach had gone beyond growling complaints to a vaguesickness. He fell into his bed without bothering to do much morethan pull away his doublet and shoes and attend to the minimum ofhis nightly routine, and slept until woken in the dark hours beforedawn by the angry squabbling of some sort of knightly lovetriangle.

Conall’s firmly voiced command for the lovers totake it outside was like balm on a scratch from fire nettles. Thelovers evidently obeyed and Fox drifted back into a deeper restuntil the usual sounds of morning in Kaladas roused him.

He was grateful at being granted a few morehours of rest when it became clear that it was going to be a hotday with heavy, wet air and he learned Domvoda planned to take hisPotentials, and therefore most if not all of the court, out to thefields to watch the knights spar as the various seating boxes andtents were being built.

Rising early meant Fox had time to attend to hishair and to bathe, although if he’d known that the knightsdisinclined to head to the main castle for proper baths had set upa system to rain cold water on themselves, and that this system wasbehind one of Kaladas’ tower walls but otherwise open to the airand anyone passing by, he might have taken less time with his hairand opted for Saravar and a proper bath. Admittedly, if he were aknight who had been sparring for hours in the sun or dealing withhorse muck, then a cold-water shower probably would have beenwonderful. As for the rest of the situation, knights did not seemto have much sense of modesty. Fox imagined they saw their bodiesmore as tools, or perhaps as a weapons, although not in the sameway that the alluring receptives at court viewed theirs.

All that meant was that none of the knights somuch as glanced at Fox while he shivered under the water alongsidethem. He was grateful for what was clearly an established courtesyof not looking, but also vaguely wished someone had at leastwantedto look. Making another knight blush would havehelped him face what was going to be a trying day. But he returnedtheir courtesy and kept his gaze up while dreaming of warmerwaters.

By midday, he was dreaming of the cold-watershowers again. His suspicion that he would need to look his besthad led him to dress in a fetching new outfit of black, withvisible white underlayers and berry-pink and leaf-green trim. Hehad assumed Domvoda would sit under a temporary shelter to keep outof the direct sunlight, but Domvoda, for some perplexing reason,had not ordered one to be set up.

Fox had an idea that this was meant to make thePotentials and courtiers, also in their best or some approximation,sweat more. Maybe Domvoda wanted to see what they would do whentheir starched lace drooped or their faces turned red. Fox was gladhe’d darted back to his room at the last moment to dig out thesunshade he’d had made after last year’s tournament. It was aconstruction of white cloth and wood, with a wooden handle, and wasbuilt much like the sunshades set up over the stalls in the marketbut meant for one person to carry with ease. As such, it did notoffer much relief to anyone else but no one would have stood withFox anyway.

Domvoda had smiled slightly at seeing Fox withit and even greeted him, although he had not commanded Fox to playany music. Fox’s lute stayed strapped to his back, creating ahorribly sweaty patch in his underlayers. The laundries were goingto be overrun when everyone returned to the castle, which wasvisible in the distance.

If they could have, the byr would have demandedFox’s shade from him. As it was, they would all be having them madesoon enough and never acknowledging where they got the idea, asever. Fox stayed mostly out of their sight just in case, keeping tothe side of the group around Domvoda as everyone made their wayacross the fields to where the grass was being thoroughly trampledby knights, horses, various assistants, and builders attending totheir work.

The seating for the tournament had not beenfinished. Some of the workers seemed to be marking where thesquares or small arenas for the individual tournament competitionswould be. Some of the tents—actual tents, made of cloth—Fox sawwere probably for the knights who might be driven indoors if therainstorms came to pass. More of them would arrive within the nextday or two. He tried not to worry about it and if even his new homewould be taken from him.

What should have occupied more of his thoughts,aside from keeping a wary eye on Domvoda, was Potential NumberThree—Byr Falnya Ovitos Telect et atilli.

There was nothing particularly beautiful aboutByr Falnya, which meant most of the court had dismissed himinstantly. Fox had not. Byr Falnya, from a remote region in themountains, had trained with several scholars, according to what Foxoverheard. More importantly, Byr Falnyaobservedand pausedbefore speaking.

Exactly the sort of person to be watched, Foxthought while glancing across the fields since his shade grantedhim the ability to covertly do so. Byr Conall appeared to beguiding some of the knights, or soon-to-be knights, too young tocompete but old enough to learn, through the motions of one of theweaponless combat arts.

Fox did not allow his attention to linger,cautious even with the shade to conceal him. He studied Byr Falnya,in a light shirt and no doublet, startlingly out of fashion butundoubtedly cool and noticeably not perspiring, and a traditionalval around his waist, rendering his tail impossible to read. Foxcouldn’t tell if that was intentional or if Byr Falnya had been hotupon waking and didn’t care for current styles. The wealth of hisregion was apparent in his jewelry, however, glittering in hisshort, straight hair and around his throat.

Byr Falnya had turned a few times, followingDomvoda’s gaze and finding Fox. Fox would incline his head politelyto Domvoda and Domvoda would smile again. Then Byr Falnya would beslow to return his attention elsewhere.

Fox kept his tail in a neutral, easy pose. TheLazy Beast, whispered to have once been called the Lazy Dragon forthe way the creatures were said to sleep, meant his tail up withthe tip resting in the crook of his arm as he held his shade.

One of the times he caught himself beingstudied, Fox dared to look at Byr Falnya first and gave a visiblestart when Byr Falnya inclined his head in greeting. Fox hadquickly glanced to Domvoda. Domvoda’s tail was still as their eyesmet but his smile grew.

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