Part 24 (1/2)
”Fifty!”
At that moment her guests began to arrive, eager to sample the wines, breads, meats, and cheeses set out on long tables in the open air. Tobin and Chay showed up a little late, the princess wearing a similar veil of dark red silk lace that framed her delicate features like woven rays of sunset. The envious glances of the other ladies present confirmed Ostvel's cunning; they would soon be clamoring for the beautiful stuff.
It was a casual party, but not entirely congenial. Too many tensions and rumors chased each other from group to group. Everyone was there, naturally. Lleyn, leaning on the dragon-headed cane Rohan had sent him, held a small court of elders beside a tree, Clutha and Chale joining him; the old princes left it to the younger folk to circulate and chatter, content to observe and comment with the asperity that was the privilege of their years and experience.
Miyon of Cunaxa complimented Sioned on her veil with as much charm as if a Desert army was not right across his border, then excused himself to talk with Cabar and Velden-rather unsubtle of him, Sioned thought, but exactly the configurations of allies she had envisioned. Davvi spent his time entertaining their cousin Volog of Kierst, who had Saumer of Isel in tow. The latter was looking mellow; perhaps he would be in a mood to support Rohan and reject the pretender's claim. Sioned blessed her brother's tact and turned her attentions to the athr'im. athr'im.
There were more of them here than in previous years, many in search of wives. Patwin of Catha Heights, still a widower after the death of Roelstra's daughter Rabia; young Sabriam of Einar; Allun of Lower Pyrme; Tilal of River Run-there were hands and fortunes enough among them to keep the young highborn ladies busy. And that wasn't even counting the heirs to princedoms, like Kostas, who were also in need of brides.
Sioned welcomed them all, saw them provided with fine wines from Gilad and Ossetia and Syr, and thanked the G.o.ddess for Stronghold's isolation. She knew she would long since have gone mad if forced to have this constant parade of people around her, watching, judging, waiting for a slip, jealous of a smile that might indicate preference. Tobin and Chay, however, were in their element. Charm and good humor positively oozed from them both. Tobin was engaged in putting young Milosh of Fessenden, Pimantal's youngest and favorite son, at his ease; the boy was barely twenty and obviously dazzled by her. Sioned silently saluted her sister-by-marriage's political ac.u.men. They needed Fessenden. Chay had drawn Velden, Miyon, and Cabar around him and was talking swords and horses-conversation nicely calculated to appeal to three proud young men eager to impress this great lord with their knowledge. Young people flirted, older people drank and talked, and by sundown most of the wine was gone and Ostvel ordered another few casks broached.
Yet as Sioned discussed Pol's training with Princess Audrite, she noted that three faces were missing. Audrite was quick to catch her frown, and asked its cause.
”We're lacking a few celebrants,” Sioned commented.
Audrite's thick dark lashes lowered slightly as she scanned the crowd. ”Ah, yes. Our friends from Waes and the Lady-excuse me, the Princess Princess-Chiana.” Audrite's mouth twisted as if the name soured her tongue, and Sioned chuckled. ”They'll have the excuse of last-minute preparations, of course, but it's rather rude of them not to put in an appearance.”
”In a way, I'm glad they're not here. The young ladies ought to be glad, too. Chiana isn't exactly subtle.”
”Why, cousin!” Audrite pretended to be shocked, and both women laughed. ”Seriously, it's not Chiana anyone should be concerned with. I heard some disturbing things about Kiele today. She's put it about that Lyell has had this pretender researched, and the information is all to the young man's advantage.”
Sioned frowned. ”So that's why there was more than the usual chill between her and Chiana the other night. Like frozen sugar.”
”You can count on our support, of course. This man is an im poster, certainly-but even if he were for real, neither my husband nor his father relish the idea of another Roelstra. Besides, Rohan won Princemarch by all the rules of war, and was confirmed by the princes.”
”Except Miyon, whose advisers kept him at Castle Pine.” Sioned glanced at the tall, dark figure, frowning lightly.
”I wouldn't worry too much about him. He's inexperienced. He's bound to make some sort of mistake.”
”I agree-but we can't count on the errors of others to promote our cause.” She sighed. ”I know that you and Chadric and Lleyn will do your best for us-and I thank you for it.” She excused herself and stood a little apart from her guests, waiting until the servants had placed ten tall poles around the area and secured unlit torches atop them. Sioned concentrated for a moment, gestured, and the torches sprang to life. There was a slight murmur of surprise and all gazes turned to her, just as she had intended. She smiled sweetly. It never hurt to remind them that their High Princess was also a Sunrunner.
Ostvel brought her a fresh cup of wine. ”Exhibitionist,” he accused.
”You're getting stuffy in your old age. What's the use of being faradhi faradhi if I can't have a little fun every so often? Did you see Miyon's face when that torch lit right over his head?” if I can't have a little fun every so often? Did you see Miyon's face when that torch lit right over his head?”
Ostvel stepped back and bowed to someone who was approaching Sioned from her left. ”Princess Naydra,” he said, bowing slightly, and after murmuring a polite excuse left them alone.
”Good evening, your grace,” Naydra said. ”I've been admiring your veil. It's very beautiful.”
”Thank you. I must compliment you in return on your pearls. I've never seen that exact shade of pink before. They're exquisite.”
”My lord is very generous to me.” Her dark eyes found and caressed her husband, Lord Narat of Port Adni, a bulky and cheerful man currently engaged in lively conversation with Prince Saumer.
Sioned beckoned a servant over and asked him to fetch Naydra another cup of wine. As the two women exchanged the meaningless pleasantries required of princesses, Sioned regarded her companion thoughtfully. Naydra was the eldest of Roelstra's daughters, the only one besides Pandsala of his legitimate offspring now living, and thus the only other one with the right to be styled ”princess.” She did not much resemble her two more notorious sisters. Her eyes were the same shape and color as Ianthe's, and she had much of Pandsala's dignity, but there the similarities ended. Naydra was quiet, subdued, and utterly without fire or ambition.
”I wanted to tell your grace that I'm more grateful every day for your goodness to me.”
Sioned smiled uncertainly. ”I'm afraid I don't understand.”
”I regret that I'm unable to give my lord an heir, but beyond that I have nothing to wish for. I have a life that pleases me, and it's thanks to you and the High Prince that I am happy.” She looked down at her hands. ”Your generosity in dowering me-”
”Oh, Naydra-please, don't. I'm only sorry we weren't able to do the same for all your sisters.”
”Yes-marriages that would have come to Rusalka, Cipris, and Pavla, had they lived. There are few of us left now. Myself and Pandsala, Kiele, Moria, Moswen, Danladi. . . .” Naydra glanced up and shrugged. ”The latter three have avoided marriage, you know. Not because they lack suitors or dower, but because betrothal seems to be dangerous for Roelstra's daughters. And Rabia's death in childbed after two normal birthings was a shock. I nearly died, too, you know, miscarrying my poor baby.” The princess looked directly at Sioned for a long moment, then away. ”It's almost as if there's a curse on us and our children.”
The servant came then with Naydra's wine, giving Sioned time to mull over the catalog of sisters and the strange conclusion Naydra had drawn. When the servant had left them, Sioned asked carefully, ”What are you trying to tell me, my lady?”
”Nothing, your grace. It only makes me sad.” But again Naydra met her gaze in uncharacteristically direct fas.h.i.+on. ”With your permission, I will attend my lord.” With a small, graceful nod, she moved away.
Sioned smoothed the frown from her forehead but could not stop thinking about what Naydra had said. Perhaps the princess was still grieving over the loss of the only child she would ever carry-Sioned understood that only too well, for her own miscarriages still haunted her. But Naydra had seemed to imply something else. A curse on Roelstra's daughters and their children-ridiculous, the kind of thing reasonable people knew to be mere superst.i.tion. Rabia's three daughters were perfectly healthy, and Kiele had a fine son and daughter. And Ianthe-Sioned sipped at her wine to wash away the bitter taste that always came with the thought of Pol's mother. A curse; what nonsense.
Still, she mused as she joined Lleyn, Chale, and Clutha, out of eighteen daughters born to Roelstra and his various ladies, only seven were still alive.
It was only then that she realized that in her catalog of sisters, Naydra had not included Chiana.
Sioned was awakened early the next morning by shouted greetings, clanking harness, and her husband's demands to know why his lazy wife was so late abed. She barely remembered to grab a robe and fling it on as she went flying out of the pavilion and into his embrace.
”Rohan-oh, love, I've missed you!” She locked her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. He smelled of healthy sweat, leather, and horse-a lovely stink as far as she was concerned.
”Father of Storms, woman, let me breathe! And get some clothes on, you're making a spectacle of yourself!” He laughed, hugging her tighter to his chest.
”Oh, shut up,” she said, and effectively prevented further scolding by claiming his lips with her own. When she considered him to be thoroughly greeted, she drew back and asked, ”Now I've made a spectacle of us both-as if you cared!”
”I'm surprised the whole camp hasn't lined up to watch.” He kissed her again.
Maarken nudged Pol. ”Hurry, get everybody here and we can sell tickets-two coins a head and split the profits fifty-fifty!”
Rohan released her and she turned to her son. There was something older about his smile, reflecting what had happened to him during the summer they had been apart. And surely he was taller. She held out her arms and he came forward, and she pressed her cheek to his sunny hair. When he wriggled slightly-young enough still to want a hug, but old enough to be conscious of his dignity-she let him go and saw Pandsala standing silent and watchful nearby. Sioned smiled at the princess.
”What in the world have you been feeding him at Castle Crag? He's gotten taller-grown right out of his tunic!”
Pandsala's eyes lit with humor and she came forward to touch hands with Sioned. ”Fresh mountain air and suns.h.i.+ne will do that, your grace. I'm pleased to see you.”
”And I you, and looking so well-especially after hosting my hatchling.” She eyed Pol. ”Have you caused her grace any trouble?”
”He was a joy to have with us,” Pandsala said softly. ”All of Princemarch was reluctant to part with him.”
Pol looked so smug that Sioned decided his dignity required a little salutory teasing. ”No pranks, no escapades, no disobedience? I don't believe it! You must tell me your secret for turning him into a rational being with manners, Pandsala.”
”Mother!” Pol protested, and Sioned laughed. ”I was a very good guest!”
”He was indeed, your grace,” Pandsala seconded.
”She can tell you all about it once we've been made comfortable,” Rohan said pointedly. ”I a.s.sume you're about to offer everyone a bath, a bed, and breakfast while Pandsala's tents are set up?”