Stormseer (Storms in Amethir Book 3) (4 page)

Arisanat nodded and fell silent. Razem probably shouldn't speak. They had been stiffly polite with each other since the night Razem had poured out his grief in front of his cousin. They were certainly not as close as they had been, which was never as close as each of them had been to Venra. But Razem still cared for his cousin, and after a moment he couldn't resist.

"I hope your business at Burojan Manor fared well."

Arisanat's gaze wandered over to him. He seemed astonished that Razem would speak to him. "It went tolerably well, your highness. I thank you."

"And your sisters are all well?"

A pause. "They are as well as may be. Rija continues her work on your sculpture of Princess Azmei."

Razem nodded. "I am glad to hear it. And how fares the quarry?"

It was perhaps a small mercy that Captain Ysdra arrived at that moment. He bowed to the prince and lords, saluted to Kho, and took a seat.

"Very good," Kho said. "Does everyone know why we are here?"

"Aye," Thorne growled as Razem nodded.

"Yes, sir," said Ysdra.

Arisanat's jaw tightened. "I am not aware." His voice, which had already been cool, was icy now. He glanced over at Razem. "Perhaps your highness will enlighten me."

Winds take him. No one had told Arisanat? Razem swallowed. What would be the best way to break the news? If only he'd had time to plan this out—but then, Father hadn't given him time to plan what he would say, because his father knew him too well. If Razem had known he was expected to break the news to Arisanat, Razem would simply have skipped the meeting.

"Spit it out." For the first time in months, Arisanat didn't speak formally to him.

"It isn't easy news," Razem cautioned. He cleared his throat. "My father has arranged to trade a prisoner with Strid. He hopes it will further the peace talks."

Arisanat lifted his chin, nostrils flaring, and his face drained of color, but that was the only indication of his temper. He didn't blow up or lash out. If anything, he drew into himself, tightening. He met Razem's gaze for a long moment that was so cold it burned. Razem was aware of Ysdra and Thorne and Kho waiting for his reaction, but no one spoke.

"Does his majesty explain why he offers me this insult?" Arisanat asked finally. His voice froze the whole room.

Razem knew he had to thaw the situation somehow, but he had no idea what to say. He floundered for words and grasped the first ones that came to mind. "Not insult, Aris. His majesty honors the sacrifice Venra made for our kingdom. He deems it too high a sacrifice to allow anyone else to make." It was a bald-faced lie; many more people had died after Venra, and if they weren't of the highest echelon of families, they were still
someone's
family. But if it appeased Arisanat—

"Your highness will forgive me if I do not take it thus." Arisanat was drawn so tightly into himself that he seemed almost a statue. "No good can be had by appeasing the Strid dogs. They are honorless. Every concession Marsede makes shows his weakness in the face of their barbarity."

Razem agreed with Arisanat more than he did Marsede, but he couldn't admit that, not even in as private a setting as this, after his outburst in the council chamber. Nor could he bring himself to defend his father's actions. He met Arisanat's gaze unhappily.

"And you summoned me here to tell me this? Why?" Arisanat gestured at the others. "So you would have witnesses to see me speak treachery? Is Lord-General Kho here to arrest me?"

"No!" Razem exclaimed, shocked. "How could you think so? My father has not suppressed the speech of those who are against the war. Nor would he suppress the speech of those who support escalation. You are here because my father wishes you to travel to Salishok with us."

Arisanat stood so abruptly his chair scraped back against the stone floor. "Your father would have me watch yet again as someone returns from the war when my brother never will?"

"Damn it, Aris, do you think you are the only one who mourns Venra?" Razem flared. "My father grieved for his nephew before he grieved for his daughter. I lost a man who was as close to me as a brother! You do not have sole possession of his memory!"

That was probably the wrong thing to say, too, but Razem had lost two people now—his best friend and his sister. Arisanat had never been close to Azmei.

"If you had truly loved Venra, you would not have agreed to give your sister to Amethir in exchange for peace talks," Arisanat spat.

"I did not agree. I protested! But Azmei herself agreed, and she was right to do so."

"Then she got what she deserved." Arisanat's voice was ugly.

Razem punched him. His fist connected solidly with his cousin's nose, sending a shock of pain all the way up his wrist. He heard Kho and Thorne shouting, but he was too focused on the sight of bright red blood erupting from Arisanat's nose to pay attention. Arisanat rocked back in his chair, eyes wide. Apparently he hadn't expected Razem to hit him. For that matter, Razem hadn't expected to hit him, either. His body had acted before his mind caught up with it.

There were hands on his arms, grasping so tightly it almost hurt. Arisanat's face was flushed as Captain Ysdra flung an arm across his chest to hold him back from throwing himself at the prince. Ysdra was getting blood down his uniform front, but he didn't seem to notice.

"What the hell was that?" Thorne was shouting in Razem's ear. "Are you a prince or a mewling brat who squabbles and settles things with his fists? Grow up, lad! Your sister wouldn't have wanted this."

Razem tried to shake him off. He stared at Arisanat, who still hadn't checked the blood flowing from his nostrils. Kho was talking angrily in Arisanat's ear, a wad of cloth gripped in one hand. Razem closed his eyes. He was such a fool. He wanted to punch Arisanat again. It had felt good to make his cousin feel the pain Razem was experiencing. But he knew he had just ruined everything. There would be no hope of settling things amicably between them now. He slumped back in Thorne's grasp.

"Ysdra." The captain jumped to help Kho convey Arisanat from the room. Razem's cousin looked furious, but said nothing.

Thorne shook Razem. "Little fool." He directed Razem back into a chair. "What would you have done if he'd struck back? He could be flogged for such an offense. Were you trying to provoke that?"

"What? No!" Razem stared up at him. "I would never—"

"Good. That's meaner than I thought you were." Thorne shook his head. Razem wished he could see past him to his cousin. "I'm disappointed in you. I thought you had better sense."

"You heard what he—"

"I did," Thorne interrupted. "And I also know that Kho just the other morning gave you a lecture on self-control." He made a wry face. "I know that because he had to give me the same lecture this morning." He sighed and sat in Arisanat's vacated chair.

"My father's going to kill me."

"He can't. You're the only heir he has." Thorne didn't make that sound like a compliment. "But he might wish he could. You fool, I thought you understood Arisanat was the sticking point in all this."

Razem rubbed a hand through his hair. "I thought I was the sticking point."

"No, you're just being a little shit. Arisanat has a serious grievance against the crown, and he is of the First Family. He has enough clout to make things very difficult for your father, especially if he talks Birona around to his way of thinking." Thorne glared at him. "Have you been so wrapped up in yourself that you honestly didn't know all this?"

"I--You mean--I--" Razem broke off and leaned back heavily in his chair, the breath whooshing out of him. "Do you think Aris
will
make things difficult?"

"Damned if I know." Thorne rolled his eyes up to glare at the ceiling. "Sleeping gods, if I had known taking the promotion to Lord-Captain would mean I had to wrangle wayward, willful, royal brats, I would have refused the title and run off to Amethir. Marrying one of their stormwitches would have brought me less trouble than this has."

Razem suppressed a flash of resentment and stared at the floor, trying to look properly cowed. He didn't have any right to resent Thorne's words. They were true. He'd been a complete and utter fool. For several minutes he sat and listened to Thorne's breathing while he tried to regulate his own. Finally he murmured, "What should I do, Destar?"

"I haven't a clue, your highness. I don't know Lord Arisanat well. What do
you
think you should do?"

"Ugh. Apologize to him." Razem groaned. He rubbed his hands over his face. "Beg his forgiveness. Perhaps I could be honest with him about my own reaction to Father's decision."

"Honesty usually is the best choice, as long as you think you can manage it with tact." Thorne slanted his gaze over at him. "And without any more punching."

"He'll probably need some time to cool off," Razem said hopefully, but Thorne snorted.

"When has putting off a foul task ever made it more palatable? Nay, if I am the one giving counsel, I say you should apologize quickly, before this becomes a stone lodged in Lord Arisanat's heart. You and he were close once, weren't you? Closer, at least, when his lordship's brother was alive."

Razem nodded. "We went there every year for Longnight. My sister loved the snow they get in the hills." He swallowed against a sudden thickness in his throat. "I never cared for the cold, but it pleased her so." He shivered.

Thorne rested a hand on his shoulder. "I miss her, too, lad."

Not knowing how to respond to that, Razem simply nodded and went.

***

Arisanat was--for good or ill--easy enough to find. He and Emran Kho were sitting on a bench at the edge of the practice rings. Arisanat still held a red-stained wad of cloth to his nose. The two men did not appear to be speaking. Razem let his steps slow as soon as he saw them.

He was almost more ashamed to face Kho than Arisanat. Kho's lecture about discipline should have stuck in his mind more this morning. Instead Razem had allowed his temper to overrule his thoughts and had made an already difficult situation worse. It was tempting to wait here and watch to see what sort of mood Arisanat might be in before approaching. But no, that was cowardly. Razem may be a fool, but he was not a coward.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the humiliation to come, and stepped forward. Kho saw him coming at once. He stood, resting a hand briefly on Arisanat's shoulder, and bowed to Razem.

"Lord-General," Razem said, pitching his voice low and trying to sound humble, "I would speak with Lord Arisanat alone."

Kho bowed again silently and took his leave.

Razem walked closer to his cousin but did not sit. He felt as if he should ask Arisanat's permission before sitting, and besides, he didn't think it wise for them to be too close to each other just now. He couldn't guarantee his cousin wouldn't swing for him, and Razem truly didn't want him flogged.

"I must beg your forgiveness, cousin," he said after several long moments of silence. Arisanat had not even turned to look at him or acknowledged him in any way.

"Must you?" his voice was rough. Razem felt a fresh pang of guilt. His thoughtless reaction had just scraped a blade across Arisanat's still-oozing grief. And it was true that Arisanat had poked at Razem's own sore spot, but that was no excuse.

"Yes, I must." He made his voice firm. "We have always been friends, cousin, and I would not be the one who destroyed that friendship. I have many fond memories of the time we spent together as children. And I was thoughtless in my own grief, unmindful of the grief that is yours, that needs must always be sharper than mine, for the love of a brother. I have felt that grief myself. I was wrong to slight it."

"You were." A simple statement of agreement, nothing more. But the fact that Arisanat was responding to him made Razem breathe a bit easier.

"I must confess something to you as well," he went on. "My reaction, when my father told me of the impending prisoner exchange, was not so eloquent or graceful as yours. I raised my voice to my father in his council chambers. I defied the king to his face. He had been well within his rights to rebuke me then and there. But even with more cause, he did not strike me, as I most shamefully struck you."

Arisanat's shoulders heaved twice. He straightened up, lowering the bloody cloth. "Sit down, you maundering lump. Anyone who looks at us will know we have quarreled, else." There was impatience but no affection in the words. Still, Razem took another deep breath and sat obediently down, and valiantly ignored being called a maundering lump.

"For my part, I apologize for what I said of Azmei," Arisanat said. "I knew it would wound you before I said it." His throat moved as he swallowed. "I wanted to give you some of the pain I have carried all these months."

Razem nodded. "We have both suffered great losses. Perhaps they were not quite the same, but they were both terrible." He licked his lips. "Aris, I need you with me. I do not think I can go to Salishok and accept Jacin Hawk back to our kingdom unless you are by my side." He looked over at his cousin, seeing that behind the dried blood his cousin's face was drawn with grief. "I must have your blessing, or I must defy my father."