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"n.o.body ever accused you of being stupid." She lifted her wine cup to him approvingly.
He slanted a thoughtful glance at Andry. It made sense. He could use the rest of the family to surround Andry from all sides, then allow him to think there was a weakness in Rohan's own position-and thereby trap him. Using military metaphors to describe an underhanded action against his own blood-kin left a very sour taste in his mouth.
But no one had ever accused Feylin of being stupid, either.
Tobin and Chay had unwittingly begun the maneuver this morning. They had met their son alone, but the only thing they had shared was a formal expression of grief over Sorin's death. Andry's coolness had puzzled and hurt them-an emotional strain on him, surely. He loved his parents deeply. Sioned had come at him from another direction. Rohan would have to wait for a detailed report of their conversation, but that Andry was looking uncomfortable was a good sign. Maarken could be next; Andry adored him and Maarken was now the only brother he had left. If he still held out, Pol could-no, Pol must be perceived as Rohan's weakness that would lure Andry in.
And what in the name of the G.o.ddess and all her works was he thinking? thinking?
Disgusted and feeling unclean, he got to his feet. Feylin's hand on his arm stopped him.
"He's no longer a child, Rohan," she murmured. "He rules G.o.ddess Keep and does it very, very well."
Rohan stared down at her. "I can't lay a trap for my own kin."
"You're an honorable man. Will he behave the same?"
"If he doesn't, he's not Chay's son. Or my sister's."
Her eyes turned the pale gray of new steel. "Because he is is their son, he will believe as powerfully and completely in his own truths as you do in yours. Belief is much more dangerous than deception." Then her gaze softened and she gave his arm a gentle squeeze. "I know you, Rohan. You only lie to people who deserve nothing better. Walvis was already cast in your mold when he came to you as a squire, but you had the final forming and polis.h.i.+ng. Gold I called him, and so he is. So are you. But lying to people who matter tarnishes you both. And no, I wouldn't have either of you any other way." She gave a rueful shake of her head. "But it would be so much easier if you were." their son, he will believe as powerfully and completely in his own truths as you do in yours. Belief is much more dangerous than deception." Then her gaze softened and she gave his arm a gentle squeeze. "I know you, Rohan. You only lie to people who deserve nothing better. Walvis was already cast in your mold when he came to you as a squire, but you had the final forming and polis.h.i.+ng. Gold I called him, and so he is. So are you. But lying to people who matter tarnishes you both. And no, I wouldn't have either of you any other way." She gave a rueful shake of her head. "But it would be so much easier if you were."
Rohan smiled down at her. "And you'd love to be ruthless, wouldn't you?"
"It'd be a help."
"Don't try. It doesn't suit you. I can be ruthless enough for all of us."
"But not with Andry?"
He pulled in a deep breath. "No. You're right-I would would feel tarnished. And, G.o.ddess knows, I've enough muck sticking to me after thirty years of rule." feel tarnished. And, G.o.ddess knows, I've enough muck sticking to me after thirty years of rule."
"None where it shows." Feylin slid her hand into his and pressed it.
He remembered her words later on when, according to his original plan, he invited Andry upstairs. Perhaps the dirt wouldn't show if no one but he and his nephew witnessed it.
Sioned, obedient to Rohan's glance but not liking the exclusion, left them alone in the outer chamber, saying she was too sleepy to sit up late over wine. Arlis served them, then bowed his way out to wait in the hall if Rohan should require him.
"He'll make an excellent prince," Andry said to begin the conversation.
"I hope his grandfather agrees with you. Volog's been helping rule Isel since Saumer's death two winters ago, complaining constantly that he's too old for so much work." He paused to take a sip of wine. "But you know, I think he was devastated when Saumer died-though he'd never admit it. Sometimes losing a lifelong enemy is worse than losing a lifelong friend."
"They worked together fairly well those last years."
"Yes. But Volog will be as glad to hand over Isel to Arlis as I was when Pol was ready to take on Princemarch by himself."
"Latham can't rule Isel in his son's place?"
"As regent, he's fine. But the Iseli think of Arlis as the heir, not his father."
"Also reminiscent of the way you handled Princemarch."
Rohan shrugged. "It was the only wise solution."
"Wisdom seems to be in short supply in Gilad these days."
"You always did have an interesting way of putting things." Rohan smiled.
A bit unwillingly, Andry's mouth lifted at the corners. But few people were able to resist the High Prince's smile, no matter their grievances against him. Rohan hated having to use it on Andry.
"Let's be wise and state things plainly, shall we?" he went on. "This Sunrunner of yours has put us all in an awkward position."
"I wanted to thank you for getting Gevlia out of the dark. That was an incredibly cruel thing to do to her, and for that alone I'm going to fight Cabar on this."
"I can't side with you and I can't side with him," Rohan warned. "I can't stay neutral, either. It'll come down to my deciding the disposition of the case and we all know it."
"Surely you understand my position," Andry said smoothly. "Gevlia is faradhi. faradhi. No one has the right to judge her but me." No one has the right to judge her but me."
"Cabar insists she was not acting as a Sunrunner, but as a physician."
"Nonetheless, she is is a Sunrunner." a Sunrunner."
"Andry-"
The young man made an impatient gesture. "What do you think Aunt Andrade would have said?"
"Exactly what you're saying now. And my reply would have been the same." He shook his head. "So many times I've listened to myself throwing words at a problem-endless words, as if the sheer numbers of them would crush the difficulty into the dust. Words are the weapons of the civilized man, I tell myself. There's nothing that can't be solved if people only talk to each other instead of reaching for their swords."
"If Cabar reaches for his, he'll be in for a shock."
Rohan's eyes narrowed. "So. It's true, then." He saw the s.h.i.+ft of candlelight on Andry's s.h.i.+rt as shoulder muscles tensed.
"Is what true?"
"Don't play games with me, Andry. I know about your-what are you calling them? Ah, yes. Devr'im. Devr'im."
"You've been a ruling prince the length of my life and have ten times my experience at these little skirmishes." Andry shrugged. "Especially with rulers of G.o.ddess Keep. But though I may not be Andrade, I have my own-"
"Games and secrets? Do you suppose such things make you her worthy successor?" Rohan knew he should not grow angry, or at least should not give in to it. But he was tired of this and sick with the knowledge that Feylin had been right. He was used to this kind of conversation with other princes who tried to outwit him. But to encounter it within his own family-irritation got the better of him and he snapped, "Do you think it a secret from me that during one of your little practice 'wars,' the mother of your son died? died?"
Andry turned white to the lips. But his voice was low and controlled as he said, "Othanel believed in what I'm doing."
"Can't you see the danger?"
"More danger than you know." The bleak reply startled Rohan. Andry got to his feet and put down his untasted wine. "You're still trying to talk your way to a solution. Do you seriously think these sorcerers will sit still long enough to listen? Have a care, High Prince. You're going to need me and my devr'im, devr'im, perhaps sooner than you know." perhaps sooner than you know."
Rohan waited until he was at the door, fingers on the crystal k.n.o.b. "The Sunrunner will not be handed over to you on your order."
Andry froze. "I will will be the one to judge her. Not Cabar, and not you. It is my right." be the one to judge her. Not Cabar, and not you. It is my right."
"By whose reckoning?"
"The same that put you where you are. Power itself. Would you give up any of yours? Of course not. Don't expect me to."
Rohan shook his head sadly. "You hang on hardest to the very thing you least understand. Have you considered what your brother would have said to all this?"
Andry's whole body stiffened as if a sword had gone into his heart. "Sorin is dead, his soul scattered to the Desert winds."
And then Rohan understood the mistake he had made tonight. "Andry-you're not alone. We're here, your family, those who know you and love you best. Don't turn away from us."
The young man whirled around furiously. "You did that to me long ago!"
"The choice to become a Sunrunner was yours."
"There was none other I could make! Why should I have stayed here to run some insignificant little holding when I could be what I am now? Ambition runs in the family-why do you condemn mine? Andrade wanted me to rule G.o.ddess Keep and all faradh'im. faradh'im. If the power that gives me doesn't suit you, then too d.a.m.ned bad! And while we're on the subject of ambition, look to your son!" If the power that gives me doesn't suit you, then too d.a.m.ned bad! And while we're on the subject of ambition, look to your son!"
Rohan spoke quietly. "It would be futile to point out that, like you, Pol is in exactly the position Andrade intended. But I will tell you one thing. You turned your face from everyone but Sorin. Now that he's gone, there's nothing to hold you to us but our love for you. I see now that you have none left for us."
Blue eyes went wide with sudden unexpected pain. Rohan stood, speaking gently.
"Andry, you haven't lost us. But we're afraid of losing you."
"Afraid of losing me, or afraid of of me?" came the bitter reply. And in the next instant he was gone. me?" came the bitter reply. And in the next instant he was gone.
Arlis, pushed summarily aside in the hall, hovered in the doorway for a moment. He was still young enough to be offended by Andry's brusque treatment but old enough-and prince enough-to show it only with a brow arched at Rohan.
"I don't think he even saw you," Rohan said tiredly. "Never mind. Go to bed now, Arlis. I'll do for myself, thank you."
"As you wish, my lord."
The weariness was profound as he went through to the bedchamber. His wife sat at her dressing table, brus.h.i.+ng her hair.
"Sioned, I am a fool."
"Granted," she replied serenely. "What have you done this time?"
"I said all the wrong things it was possible to say." He flung himself into a chair. "I questioned his judgment, threatened his power, insulted him, hurt him, and came d.a.m.ned close to taking him over my knee."
"That about covers the mistakes you could have made with him," she agreed.
"Am I getting old and stupid? I'm supposed to be clever. I'm supposed to know how to handle people."
She faced him, compa.s.sion soft in her eyes. "People, my love. Not family. The problem is that you care too much about him."
Rohan nodded. "Feylin said much the same thing this evening."
"What are we going to do now?"
"I haven't the slightest notion."
"I think you do," she murmured.
He s.h.i.+fted uncomfortably, then admitted, "Pol asked me why it is that I never act until I'm forced to. It seems I'm forced to now. Who was that cousin of Cabar's who approached Pol? Barig? He should still be at Swalekeep. I want him summoned here. Do it yourself, Sioned, as a direct order from the High Prince."
"Every bed at Stronghold will be full, then. I just spoke with Riyan on moonlight and gave Tallain permission to bring Miyon here."
"d.a.m.n!" But after a moment's thought he added, "No, that will be all right. I'd rather have him watch my little demonstration of power with his own eyes."
"Which will properly warn him-and impress on him that the laws of the High Prince are superior to those of any other princedom and even of G.o.ddess Keep."
Rohan gaped at her. "How can you know what I'm going to do when I've barely started to work it out myself?"
She smiled. "I know you, azhrei. azhrei. Now come to bed." Now come to bed."
Chapter Fifteen.
Swalekeep: 26 Spring.
Princess Chiana dismissed her maids with a gesture, barely waiting for the doors to click shut behind them before plunging into the depths of her huge standing wardrobe. A few moments later she emerged gleefully with garments clutched in her hands. Shucking out of her bedrobe and nightdress, she made quick work of b.u.t.tons and laces and stood before three angled mirrors to judge the effect.
Chiana smiled. She had kept her figure after her pregnancies and at almost thirty had a waist like a young girl's, shown off to excellent advantage by a snug tunic and tight belt. Her hips curved sleekly in leather breeches that clung like a second skin. The clothes were basically for riding, but there was a marked difference: the light green tunic was cut like a soldier's and across the breast leaped the black deer of Meadowlord, antlers lifted like swords.
At the bottom of a clothespress in the corner was the final piece of the ensemble. Chiana struggled into it, acting as her own squire as she fastened silver buckles. At last the stiffened leather was secure. She struck a martial pose and grinned at her reflection. With boots rising to mid-thigh and carnelian-studded body armor covering her chest and spine, she was the perfect picture of the warrior-princess.
Thought of her rank sent her to another wardrobe, where she removed a locked coffer. The helm inside was also of stiffened leather braced with gold. Around the brow circled a wide band of gold, which above the nosepiece swirled up into another running stag, its eyes and antlers set with more carnelians. It was difficult to get all her heavy auburn hair hidden beneath the helm, but she managed. When she strutted before the three mirrors again, she laughed out loud.
All she needed was to mount the Kadari mare purchased at the last Rialla, Rialla, a magnificent horse black from nose to tail with white feathering at hooves and ears, and her presentation would be complete. But it was to be no idle masquerade for amus.e.m.e.nt. Tomorrow she would ride out wearing her warrior's armor in earnest, and by the end of spring Castle Crag and all of Princemarch would be hers. a magnificent horse black from nose to tail with white feathering at hooves and ears, and her presentation would be complete. But it was to be no idle masquerade for amus.e.m.e.nt. Tomorrow she would ride out wearing her warrior's armor in earnest, and by the end of spring Castle Crag and all of Princemarch would be hers.
Troops waited in secret for her arrival. Strategically scattered along the border, they had been a.s.sembling slowly, stealthily, since the New Year Holiday. They waited for her to lead them up to Rezeld Manor, where Lord Morlen had also a.s.sembled all those who owed him service. He had been a real find-the work of the red-haired steward Mirris, who was in Cunaxa arranging another army. Morlen and his family had succeeded for years in pretending poverty to hide their considerable resources. But he had been unable to fool High Prince Rohan, who had claimed his share of Rezeld's bounty, mainly in stone used to build Dragon's Rest. Morlen had conceived a loathing for his princes that made him easy to convince when Minis had put forth certain proposals. And now the man waited with more than three hundred soldiers at Rezeld for Chiana to lead them against Prince Pol's gorgeous new palace.
The number of troops Morlen was able to a.s.semble had been a shock to him as well as to Chiana, until Mirris had explained that there were many in the Veresch who wished a prince of Roelstra's blood back at Castle Crag. Chiana laughed again as she remembered Mirris' explanation.
"Their loyalty is to those who ruled them for five generations. Of course they will flock to your grace's banner-the n.o.blest of the late High Prince's daughters. And I wouldn't be at all surprised if along the way from Dragon's Rest to Castle Crag, hundreds more joined your grace's armies."
The notion was intoxicating. Mirris himself had been a find of no small importance. Chiana turned a straight chair around before her favorite mirror, straddling the chair as if it was her black horse. Sunlight glinted off the gold and carnelians scattered around her armor and helm. As she nodded graciously to her imagined armies, the stag at her brow seemed eager to vault mountains.
"Mama! Mama!"
Furious, she jumped out of the chair as the chamber door swung open. Who had given Rinhoel permission to come in here? But when had he ever waited for permission to do anything? Her anger evaporated and she reveled in the child's beauty. Not even Ianthe's sons could have been so like their grandsire. Rinhoel was tall for being not quite seven winters old, lanky but strong. His hair was night-black, his eyes pure green without a hint of hazel; his kins.h.i.+p to Roelstra was as obvious in his looks as it was every time he opened his mouth. She caught him in her arms and he reached for the stag on her helm.
"No, greedy one, don't ruin Mama's armor!" She set him down hastily and went to kick the door shut. "Have you escaped your squires and tutors again?"
"They wanted me to read boring things," he informed her. "I don't need to read at all, Mama. I hate it and I'm a prince and people will read to me when I order them!"