Part 16 (1/2)

”You'll pa.s.s,” she said curtly. ”With schooling, of course, and with a rinse to bring out red highlights in your hair. Palila's hair was auburn. Yours is too dark.”

”Like our father's,” he shot back.

”A reddish tint will arouse memories of her-and that's the immediate point, you'll agree. Now explain to me why it took you so long to get here.”

”I set out as planned, and on time-according to instructions from some woman who seems to think she's my aunt.” He grinned. ”She's the daughter of the people who claim to be my grandparents, but I don't own the relations.h.i.+p. Was it her money or yours that was sent to persuade me?”

”Impudence will get you precisely nowhere,” she snapped. ”Tell me why you're late!”

”There were riders following me.”

”Who?”

”I didn't leave them alive to conduct a conversation,” he retorted. ”They came on me at night, four of them with drawn knives.”

”What did they look like?”

”Peasants. One of them babbled something about someone who'd help me challenge the princeling. There was talk of power more potent than the faradh'im faradh'im.” He shrugged. ”I don't need anyone's help. I'm ready to take my inheritance now. now.”

”You should have questioned them!”

”What was I supposed to do-ask for information while they cut me to ribbons? I heard them approach and pretended to drowse over my fire, and when they were close enough I started killing them before they could kill me. If that doesn't suit you, sweet sister, then too d.a.m.ned bad.”

”Stop calling me that. It's yet to be proved that you're my father's son. And to do that, you need me. You know that, or you wouldn't be here. Who taught you proper speech?”

”Do you want me to use my rustic mountain accent?” he sneered. ”Would that help the illusion? I don't need any tricks! I'm the son of High Prince Roelstra and his mistress Lady Palila, born nearly twenty-one years ago just a few measures from here on the Faolain River. Anyone who doubts it-”

”Don't threaten me, boy,” she told him. ”I don't have to believe in you-all I have to do is decide whether or not to support you. How far do you think you'd get without the backing of one of Roelstra's daughters? Now, how did you learn gentle speech?”

Sullenly, he replied, ”A couple of the men at Dasan Manor had been servants at Castle Crag in their young days. They taught me.”

”Good. We can say they recognized the highborn in you and tutored you. We can work on your appearance and various mannerisms I can show you. Get up and walk around the room.”

He did so, eyes smoldering with resentment. ”Do I walk well enough for you?”

She ignored the question, not wanting to admit how his strong movements distressed her. There was power in that lean, tough body, wedded to a temper that would make him dangerous if crossed. ”Lean against the wall. Fold your arms over your chest-no, higher. Good. Now brush your hair from your forehead. Use your fingers like a comb. That's right. Can you hold your own in a sword fight?”

”I've had training. Dasan belongs to a knight retired from service, and he says I'm a natural fighter. I'm good with horses, too. And knives. As I proved on the way here.” He gestured to the dagger at his belt. ”No worries about that.”

”What I'm worried about is your arrogance and your anger. You'll have to control both if this is going to work. You can't just storm into the princes' conference and demand your rights. Let my husband handle that part of it, and keep your mouth shut except to say what we'll tell you to say. Oh, stop glaring at me, Masul! You not only have to prove your claim to Princemarch, but you also have to prove you'll be a prince the others can work with! They'd had quite enough of my father's ways before he died, I can tell you that!”

This was obviously a new concept. He subsided into his chair and blew out a long sigh. ”Very well. But you have to understand something first. All my life I've been stuck in that swine-run of a manor at the back end of nothing. Everybody sneaking glances at me, whispering that I couldn't possibly be my supposed father's son, not with my height and coloring, and especially my eyes.”

He rose and began to pace. Kiele schooled her expression to coolness. Her father had stalked rooms in just this fas.h.i.+on. But, even more than her memories, Masul's barely leashed strength impressed her again like a physical blow. His pacing made the candle flame flicker as he pa.s.sed, the light throwing odd shadows onto his face.

”The rumors started when I was about fifteen. Could he be, what if he is, surely he's not, remember the old prince, what really happened that night-”

”That is something very few people ever knew,” Kiele interrupted. ”Palila, Roelstra, Ianthe, Pandsala, Andrade. Of those five, the first three are dead.” is something very few people ever knew,” Kiele interrupted. ”Palila, Roelstra, Ianthe, Pandsala, Andrade. Of those five, the first three are dead.”

”And the two survivors won't welcome me with open arms,” he added.

”Pandsala won't give up her power without a terrible struggle,” she agreed. ”She'll throw her own honor into the dirt before making the slightest slip that could prove you're Roelstra's son. As for Andrade-she's blood-bound to the Desert and she hated Roelstra with a pa.s.sion bordering on obsession. I don't think she'd lie, no matter what the need, but she's clever as a roomful of silk merchants and won't tell any part of the truth that might support your claim.”

”It's up to me, then. I have to look enough like him and Palila, say what you and Lyell tell me, and behave as if I'll be a good, biddable prince once I'm installed at Castle Crag.” He grinned again, like a wolf.

She had intended bidding him herself, but it appeared he had a mind of his own. That would help in the process of convincing others, of course, but she suspected that his grat.i.tude for her help would last only as long as it took him to walk inside Castle Crag.

”I'm ready to be educated, sister dear,” he said, and sat down once more.

She stared at him for a long time over the candle flame. ”Masul, have you ever grown a beard?”

”No.”

”Do so, for three reasons. First, many men with dark hair have reddish beards and it would help if that were the case with you. Second, we have to hide you until the Rialla, Rialla, and a beard would do that, make you look older.” and a beard would do that, make you look older.”

”And third?”

She laughed, pleased with her inspiration. ”Imagine it! You appear for the first time at the Rialla, Rialla, bearded. All anyone will see is your eyes. They bearded. All anyone will see is your eyes. They are are very like my father's, you know. That night we'll shave off the beard-and because they're already primed to see Roelstra in your face, they'll find the resemblance even greater than it is!” very like my father's, you know. That night we'll shave off the beard-and because they're already primed to see Roelstra in your face, they'll find the resemblance even greater than it is!”

Masul looked startled for a moment, then laughed aloud. ”Father of Storms! Brilliant, sister-brilliant!”

”I've not yet decided that I am am your sister,” she reminded him. The words had the intended effect; he looked murderous, then resentful, then determined to win her over to real belief. She rose, satisfied. He would work harder at his lessons in order to prove his ident.i.ty-and her eventual acquiescence would be all the sweeter to him for having been hard-won. This would give him added confidence in his ability to convince others. Not that he would need much more confidence, she reflected as she settled her cloak around her again. Still, she had established the beginnings of dominance over him through her doubts and her instructions. He would be willing to do as she told him. your sister,” she reminded him. The words had the intended effect; he looked murderous, then resentful, then determined to win her over to real belief. She rose, satisfied. He would work harder at his lessons in order to prove his ident.i.ty-and her eventual acquiescence would be all the sweeter to him for having been hard-won. This would give him added confidence in his ability to convince others. Not that he would need much more confidence, she reflected as she settled her cloak around her again. Still, she had established the beginnings of dominance over him through her doubts and her instructions. He would be willing to do as she told him.

”Is this where you're going to keep me until the Rialla? Rialla?” Masul asked.

She smiled, pleased by the phrasing that confirmed her ascendancy. ”It won't be too bad after it's cleaned up. But when the city begins to fill later in the summer, I'll have you moved to a little manor we own outside the gates.”

”The place you meet your lovers?” he suggested.

She drew back her hand to slap him and he caught her wrist, laughing. ”How dare you!” she spat. ”Let me go!”

”A woman as beautiful as you must have plenty of lovers-that's the way of things with you highborns, and especially Roelstra's offspring! How many did Ianthe take before she died? I must say it's a pity you're my sister, sister dear!”

She wrenched away from him. ”Don't you ever touch me again!” His grin infuriated her, and his mocking parody of a bow. She yanked the door open and slammed it behind her, descending the stairs at a run. Pausing only to order that the house be thoroughly cleaned before her next visit-and tossing another pouch of gold at the woman to pay for it-she left the stifling place for the cool night air outside. It hit her burning cheeks like an ice storm.

As she walked, she calmed down a little and realized that part of her anger was really shock. His suggestion about her lovers and his intimation that he wouldn't mind being one was impudence of the worst sort-he was half her age and possibly her brother into the bargain. Yet something deeper troubled her; she had seen l.u.s.t in men's eyes before, but recognition of it in Masul's green gaze brought memories flooding back. Roelstra had looked at Palila that way, and at many other lovely women. Boldly, speculatively, arrogant with the a.s.surance that he had but to beckon and they would be instantly in his bed. Not because he was High Prince; because he was a man who enjoyed women's bodies. More than anything else she had seen or heard tonight, the look in Masul's eyes began to convince her that he might indeed be Roelstra's son.

Kiele paused for a few moments in the cool darkness of her garden, looking up at the windows where lights shone blue or red or green behind thin curtains. Shadows moved behind some, and all at once white-gold candlelight stabbed out from a fourth-floor window as silk was pulled aside. Kiele froze, then scurried to the shelter of a tree. She gasped for breath, then tried to quiet her racing heart. Why should she not take a stroll in her own gardens if she chose? Still, she stayed where she was until the spill of light was again covered by green curtains. When she could breathe normally, she slipped back into the house.

Gaining the main part of the building, she found the servants in an uproar. She dropped her cloak on the carpet for one of them to pick up, glancing quickly in a mirror to make sure her hair and gown were tidy before she demanded to know the cause of the disturbance.

”The Princess Chiana, my lady-she's just arrived, and-”

”Princess? Who told you to call her that?” Kiele snapped. ”Never mind, I know who did. d.a.m.n her insolence! She is the Who told you to call her that?” Kiele snapped. ”Never mind, I know who did. d.a.m.n her insolence! She is the Lady Lady Chiana in my house, and anyone giving her royal t.i.tles in my hearing or out of it will be dismissed on the spot! Where is she?” Chiana in my house, and anyone giving her royal t.i.tles in my hearing or out of it will be dismissed on the spot! Where is she?”

”With his lords.h.i.+p, my lady, in the Third Room.”