Dragon Prince 03 - Sunrunner's Fire (40 page)

Mildly said, severely meant. Rohan saw Sioned regard Oclel with renewed interest. The lawyers puffed up indignantly, but Barig was surprisingly undisturbed.

“I have noted,” he said thoughtfully, “that the name and graces of the Goddess are emphasized more and more often these days.”

“Appropriately so, my lord,” Oclel replied.

“Ostentatiously so,” Barig riposted. “Last night in the Great Hall, for example. I do not know how things are done at Goddess Keep, where no doubt the Goddess spends more time than she does at other places. But at his grace’s palace of Medawari we do not make a ritual of gratitude for food and drink we and not she worked to produce.”

Sioned interposed, “I’m sure that proper thanks are given to the Goddess for the richness of Gilad, just as is done here in the Desert—where this year we have been especially blessed.”

“Agriculturally speaking, your grace,” Barig observed smoothly, “the rain produced the flowers. If anyone ought to be thanked, surely it is the Father of Storms—who also drowned and thereby ruined a goodly portion of everyone’s fields and herds last winter. Tell me,” he added, turning to Oclel, “did he and the Goddess have a lover’s quarrel, do you think?”

Oclel’s brows arched. “We can scarcely comprehend their natures, my lord. They certainly should not be mocked!”

“I’m sure he did not mean to do so.” Sioned spoke with steel beneath the silk of her voice. “I think Lord Barig is simply unaccustomed to the thanksgiving used at Goddess Keep, where naturally things are more formal than elsewhere. I found Lord Andry’s words quite lovely.”

“As did we all,” Barig said hastily, hearing the warning in her tone.

Oclel’s response was honeyed. “Then your lordship can be relied on to institute similar thanksgiving at Medawari in future. It would certainly find favor with the Goddess.”

Not to mention with Andry,
Rohan thought. “I’m sure Lord Barig will discuss it with his grace of Gilad,” he said aloud. “Interesting as this is, I suggest that we return to the matter at hand.” His tone indicated that they had better, or else. Both men nodded and Rohan continued, “I’m most interested by your lordship’s analysis of Prince Cabar’s position. I’m confident that as Lord Andry’s representative, Oclel would be equally eloquent.” Thus he neatly deprived the Sunrunner of any chance for further speechifying—and brought a wisp of a grin to Barig’s face. Rohan didn’t even have to glance at Sioned for her to start weaving with the threads he’d given her.

“The way I understand things,” she said, “not the guilt but the trial and punishment of this unfortunate woman is in dispute. Andry believes it his right as Lord of Goddess Keep and Cabar believes it his right as ruler of Gilad. But has anyone considered the rights of this Sunrunner?”

They stared at her. Rohan leaned back in his chair and let his lids droop slightly as he listened and watched. How he loved the patterns of her mind. . . .

“Has anybody even talked to her? Found out what her side of this is?”

“She has been questioned, your grace,” Barig began.

“Questioned? Do you mean ‘interrogated,’ my lord? Did anyone ever ask her why she agreed to treat Master Thacri in the first place? Surely she is horrified that she made a mistake.”

“If you’ll forgive me, your grace,” Barig said stiffly, “ ‘sorry’ will not feed Master Thacri’s wife and children.”

Oclel said, “No one ever claimed that it would, my lord. It seems to me that the question is not whether she was negligent in causing this man’s death, but whether he would have died anyway. She was the only physician available. She attempted to heal him, as was her duty as a Sunrunner sworn to give help when and where needed.”

“The attempt failed,” Barig said in a flat voice.

Sioned looked momentarily irritated by this interruption of her argument. “Her youth and inexperience must be taken into consideration. She is only—what, twenty-three? Twenty-four?”

One of the lawyers had the temerity to speak to the High Princess. “That makes no difference, your grace. The man is dead, and through the woman’s fault. The law is quite specific that restitution must be paid.”

“And what about justice?” Sioned exclaimed. “If the law is to have any meaning, then
right
must be done. Barbarians know only one definition of a crime and only one punishment for it. Should the man who steals a loaf of bread to feed his starving family be given punishment equal to the man who steals just to prove he can? Civilization’s privilege and duty is to think, reason, and be merciful. But to seek compassionate justice is also civilization’s curse. After all—simple, barbaric restitution is so much easier.”

Rohan nearly stood up and applauded. It was now his turn to speak, according to their prior agreement. But he had not expected so much passion from Sioned, so much heartfelt belief. Thirty years ago he had felt utterly alone in his commitment to the rule of law rather than that of the sword. But then she had appeared, first in Andrade’s fiery conjuring and then windblown and weary in the Desert near Rivenrock. He had never been alone since, not in heart or mind or spirit. He spent a moment in wordless gratitude for the gift of his wife, then spoke.

“Her grace has made an excellent point. This Sunrunner does have rights, just as anyone does from the Sunrise Water to Kierst-Isel—peasant, prince, and Sunrunner alike. I have no wish to intrude upon Lord Andry’s right to discipline his
faradh’im.
Nor do I desire to usurp the right of Prince Cabar to punish wrongdoers within his princedom as the laws of Gilad give him the power to do.”

Oclel, Barig, and the lawyers all looked puzzled by this speech. Only Sioned knew exactly where he was going with this; a tiny smile played around her eyes as he stitched the final design.

Rohan paused, then said, “Neither do I mean to deprive this Sunrunner of
her
right.”

“
What
right?” Barig was betrayed by astonishment into the exclamation.

“To be judged by Lord Andry,” Oclel said with a silken smile that left his face with Rohan’s next words.

“To be judged by
me.
”

Sioned waited just the right amount of time for this to sink in, then said, “The thing that rankled Lady Andrade most in her years of rule at Goddess Keep was the long-standing tradition that Sunrunners are citizens of all princedoms, their only true overlord being the High Prince. Of course, the reason she objected to this was because the High Prince was Roelstra. When my lord husband was acclaimed, she willingly confirmed his rights in this matter.” She smiled. “Lord Andry naturally reaffirmed them.”

Rohan said pleasantly, “All persons swear loyalty to someone. The common folk to their
athr’im,
they to their princes, the princes to me. Goddess Keep is held not from the Prince of Ossetia, but from the High Prince. Therefore, just as when people marry out of their own lands, when Sunrunners go to Goddess Keep they come under the rule of that place.

“Because Gevlia is a Sunrunner, Lord Andry does indeed have the right to decide her punishment. Because the offense occurred in Gilad, Prince Cabar also has the right to judge her.” He leaned forward slightly and lapsed into a stern royal plural. “It is our opinion that each made a serious mistake in claiming jurisdiction to the exclusion of the other, forcing us to decide between two equal claims. And we tell you now that neither will be the one to decide this matter.
We
will. We are High Prince. Gevlia’s right under very old laws is to be judged by
us.
”

Barig sprang to his feet. “Outrageous!”

“No. Justice. Her grace the High Princess wisely pointed out that it is a difficult thing, being civilized. Both Lord Andry and Prince Cabar seem rather more interested in the degree of restitution rather than in justice. We promise you that
we
shall seek the latter.”

It was a terrible insult that neither could reply to when spoken by the High Prince—and which would be duly reported to Cabar and Andry for suitable reply on a level approaching Rohan’s. But they had forced him into this locked room. It was their own fault that they had underestimated him and, rather than use either of the doors they had so smugly provided, he had chosen to climb out an unsuspected window instead.

But he was furious that he had been put in this position to begin with. He knew his decision would be perceived as an arbitrary action of the autocrat he wasn’t. Neither Cabar nor Andry would be satisfied, the other princes would feel threatened, and the whole mess already left a bad taste in his own mouth. And then there was that poor young woman. She was not an abstraction of an issue. She was a person caught in wretched circumstances.

He eyed Barig, Oclel, and the lawyers for a moment, then said brusquely, “Thank you for your attendance upon us. You have our permission to withdraw.”

All four left with frowns. Rohan did not much care. He sprawled back in his chair and blew out a long sigh. Sioned poured wine and handed him a cup.

“What will her punishment be?”

“Damned if I know,” he admitted. “Barig’s right, the man’s family must be compensated—monetarily, at least. Andry will have to disgorge a bit, which won’t make him happy at all.” He grimaced at the understatement. “But I think Gevlia will have to perform some service as well. I just can’t decide what.”

“This will follow her for the rest of her life.”

“I know. What’s worse, she undoubtedly knows it. What future for a Sunrunner found guilty of murder by accident and incompetence? You
faradh’im
are so much more visible than the common people, after all.”

“She did the best she could.”

“But failed. Somehow I’ll have to find a way of having her publicly pay her debt while restoring her confidence in herself. But you know, out of this may come something I’ve spent years trying to find a good excuse for doing.”

Her brows arched. “And now I’m supposed to guess what.”

He grinned at her. “Mm-hmm.”

She rose to pace slowly back and forth before the gigantic tapestry of the Desert in spring—but not a spring like this one. No artist could have guessed at this year’s glory of flowers. Rohan indulged himself in appreciation of beauty just as glorious as far as he was concerned: his wife’s. His gaze followed the graceful swirl of rustling silk skirts, the supple lines of shoulder and arm, waist and hip. But her frown and her occasional mutterings ruined the picture of regal perfection. He would not have had it otherwise; what use had he for a lovely lackwit?

At last she spun on one heel to face him. “You’re going to do something about training physicians, aren’t you?” she accused.

Rohan nodded. “I’m surprised it took you this long to think of it. I gave you enough clues,” he teased.

Sioned ignored this remark. “A school, I take it. Like the scriptorium on Kierst-Isel.”

“More or less. The only available training in medical arts is at Goddess Keep or as apprentice to a working physician—not all of whom are of equal skill. A school would allow standardized techniques, shared knowledge, and improved treatments—or so one hopes. What do you think?”

“I think you’re a devious son of a—dragon. Is there anything you can’t turn to an advantage of one sort or another?”

“Haven’t run into one yet,” he replied immodestly. “Andry won’t like
this
much, either. He’ll see it as a threat.”

Sioned blinked in surprise. “But Sunrunners will continue to be trained—”

“Of course! Aside from their importance in communications, having someone with at least a basic knowledge of medicine at all holdings is essential. But if they wish to be certified, practicing physicians. . . .”

“They’ll need credentials from your school. Where will it be?” She grinned suddenly. “How about Gilad?”

“You can be rather devious, yourself.”

“It might mollify Cabar a little. But what are we going to do about Andry?”

Rohan shrugged. “He’ll get used to it.”

“I doubt it. Rohan, we must tread carefully with him,” she warned.

“On the contrary, my love. It is Andry who must learn to walk a little more softly around
me.
Those scrolls Urival and Morwenna brought with them weren’t read only by you and Pol. In them I discovered my right to decide certain Sunrunner questions.”

“But there are limits.”

“And wise ones. I confess to sharing Andry’s admiration for this Lady Merisel. She seems to have been a remarkably crafty woman.” He laughed. “I have a taste for the type. I’d even bet she was a redhead.”

 

 

Sioned was in the Great Hall, staring in wonder at the flowers Rialt had brought back to decorate the dinner tables when Andry stormed through the open doors. She watched him stride up the center aisle and engaged herself in a private debate. Then, deciding that his anger did not merit a gawking audience, she gestured to the servants. They abandoned the dozens of vases and beat a hasty retreat, closing the double doors behind them.

“Is it true?” Andry demanded.

Sioned met his blazing blue eyes for a moment, then picked up a small, sharp knife and began trimming stems. “Yes.”

“He has no right. None! It’s given to
me
to judge a Sunrunner!”

“I presume Oclel told you Rohan’s reasoning. It’s all perfectly legal.”

“That doesn’t make it right!”

She poured water into a vase and selected flowers for it. “Then petition for a change in the law. For now, it stands.”

Andry pulled in a long breath obviously meant to steady himself. “Sioned, you’re a Sunrunner. Even though you don’t wear the rings, even though you’ve been High Princess for so long—surely there’s some loyalty left in you for the traditions of Goddess Keep. Would you see those rights and privileges smashed for the sake of your own power? That’s not worthy of you.”

Sioned refused to be baited. “Neither is it worthy of you to imply that I would place power above what is right and just. I forgive you for it because I know you’re angry. But if you’ll think about this, you’ll understand that it was the only thing Rohan could do.”