The King's Name (17 page)

"Whose side is she on? Had you seen her recently? Or Custennin? Could they have been planning an uprising?"

He frowned again, looking very unhappy. "I never thought of any such thing. I don't know. It isn't impossible. I

had feasted with them when I first came there, naturally. But I was staying with Thurrig; I didn't see them often."

"And how did Thurrig seem?"

"As he always is, less full of life than when he was younger, but full of concerns for my new dock
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and for an idea he had for changing the curve of the bows of a ship. It wouldn't work, unfortunately, the thing would swamp. We built a model." He stared past me at the musicians, not seeing the harp and the drum but some boat in his mind. "I have been thinking about it since though, on the boat here. There might be a way of doing it if the keel were deeper." He gestured proportions with his hands.

"It would sink," I said doubtfully, distracted by his enthusiasm despite myself.

"No, no," he said. "At least, I think not. There is a mention in Quintilian of a Tigrian boat with a deep keel. The bows would come up like this—"

"I need to speak to Urdo about Munew," I interrupted.

"Ask him what he wants me to do," Glividen said. "He knows I will go anywhere he can best use my talents."

Urdo was sitting in the windowseat talking to Veniva and Amala when I came up.

"Ah, Sulien my dear," Amala said, smiling at me. "Looking so military as always. I remember the first time I

met you I had to teach you how to wear a drape."

Veniva smiled a thin-lipped smile. "That illuminates a little matter for me about how Sulien wears her drape,"

she said. Her Vincan was always perfect but just now, in comparison with Amala's clipped accent, it sounded especially mellifluous. Or maybe she was doing it on purpose. "And yes, military is the right word; my

daughter is known for being one of the three greatest battlehorsemen of the island of Tir Tanagiri. But I have heard it said of your daughter that she was born in the saddle."

I winced, but the two old women kept on smiling at each other as if they felt nothing but the greatest amity for each other. Urdo was staring straight forward with absolutely no expression on his face. I ran through the possible ways of getting him alone without them noticing and gave up immediately. "Shall we dance?" I asked.

Urdo raised his eyebrows, Veniva smiled, and Amala pursed her lips. I could feel myself blushing, but Urdo took my hand equably and we went out onto the floor. As we danced I told him what Glividen had told me.

Urdo did not seem surprised.

"It doesn't necessarily mean Custennin's about to revolt," he said. "I don't think it changes anything much.

We knew Custennin was uncertain—that's the one thing that's always sure about him. I don't think he will commit himself to anything unless it's quite clear who has the advantage. The same goes for Dewin and the large parts of the Church. If we win they will always have been on our side, and if we were to lose, well, they will always have been on the other side. As for Thurrig, who knows. He has always been loyal to his word until now."

"I like Thurrig," I said. "He has been a good friend to me."

"But Marchel is his daughter," he said, taking my hands. "I think I should write to Thurrig if I had a reliable messenger. And I had better send Amala to Caer Tanaga tomorrow. She and your mother will tear each other to shreds if I leave her here."

I winced again, letting go of his hands and dancing away. "I was hoping it wasn't all as bad as it sounded."

"You missed a wonderful discussion of what marvelous grandsons they each have," Urdo said, leaning toward me. He smiled. "I like both of them. And you needn't be embarrassed. My mother would be doing just the same if she were there."

It was only too easy to picture Rowanna with them. I shuddered. "Give me a Jarnish shield wall bristling with weapons rather than that sort of barbed conversation."

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"You're not still afraid of your mother, are you?" he asked.

I thought about it for a moment. "Afraid isn't the word. But I know I can't manage talking like that without slashing right through all the layers and saying exactly what everyone's trying to avoid. It's all right in the alae, and really my mother is used to me, but when it comes to diplomacy I'm still a disaster."

"Not a disaster," Urdo said. "You've done very well as Lord of Derwen these last five years.

And you've done magnificently with Lew ap Ross, better than I would have guessed. He is an Isarnagan king and he is proud to look to you as his lord." Urdo swung me and I suddenly remembered dancing with poor Conal here in the hall, and how he had been such a terrible dancer. Then I remembered that I had never got around to telling Urdo about him and Emer, though she had said Elenn knew.

"You know about Emer and Conal?" I asked quietly.

Urdo looked sad. "Elenn told me. She was very angry at the insult to her mother. But now Conal is dead that should be an end to it."

"You didn't say anything to Emer?"

"She is leading an allied army north for me. If her husband chooses to send his kinsman to her bed and she agrees, then it is none of my affair that there is a bloodfeud between her and that kinsman unless she complains about it, whatever my wife might say."

"Who told you Lew knew?"

The expression on Urdo's face would have made me laugh if it had been possible to laugh at something like that. He said nothing for a moment. I heard Glividen's voice from behind me, raised over the music, "No. I

went to Thansethan specially to read it, but I have been all over the heating ducts underneath Caer Tanaga and if you ask me he doesn't understand the principles ..." and then Amala's reply,

"You should write a book yourself."

At last Urdo said, quietly and flatly, "Lew doesn't know? Then I should have spoken to her. Still, unless her husband complains, why should I reproach her about her private Jife that is conducted in private and causes no scandal? It is over. He is dead."

"Lew has sent his body back to Atha and his father so that his ashes can lie in his own country.

He saved my life again and again when Aurien poisoned me."

"Elenn hated him because he killed her mother," Urdo said, absently swinging me again as the dance came to an end. "I liked what I saw of him and I am glad he found a good death. He certainly fought well and bravely that time at Thansethan."

"It is over now in any case," I said as we bowed to each other.

"I had better keep Emer away from Caer Tanaga for the time being," he said, straightening up.

"Pieces on a fidchel board are a lot easier," I said. "They never quarrel with the other pieces of the same color."

Urdo laughed.

Just then Seriol came out of the kitchen to say dinner was ready. The smell that came out with him made my knees weak. Poor Seriol looked hot and flustered, but I thought he would make a good steward when he had settled down to it. I looked around for Darien, for him to take my arm and walk into the dining hall with me as he usually did when he visited. To my surprise Veniva was already holding his arm. She gestured to me, incomprehensibly. Then Urdo moved nearer to me and I leaned down a little, thinking he wanted to say something in private. But he just smiled and took my arm. I suppose I should have been expecting it after that greeting. Clearly my mother wanted to make a point before the guests. This strange status she was wishing on me was something I had agreed to in theory years before, letting people believe Darien was Urdo's son. It had never really been anything I had needed to take notice of before. I became aware of Amala's gaze and straightened my back. I could just picture Elenn being
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furious when she heard. I wished I had had a moment to change out of my riding leathers. Most of all I wished Veniva hadn't decided to do this.

Seriol arranged everyone in the alcoves with a minimum of fuss. Somehow we ended up with Glividen, Gomoarions-son, and the younger of Marchel's sons, as well as family in our alcove. I saw Raul settling himself between Amala and Father Cinwil. Then a servant brought the food and I stopped paying attention to anything else. We were each given a whole roast duck stuffed with onions and roots and plums and oats. It was the most I could do to eat politely and keep my knife hand clean. It tasted as good as the smell, which is saying a great deal.

We didn't talk much at first. Marchel's son and Glividen told us how they had been up river with the militia, snaring the ducks we were eating. From the way he said this I gathered that Glividen had been here several days already. I admired their skill with the nets and we talked a little about good places for fowling. None of them had been to Tevin. I wondered if Arling had landed there and how Alfwin was doing if he had.

Then Urdo complimented Veniva on the stuffing and she talked for a long time about the importance of sunlight and sloping ground for plum trees. Little Gwien made some remarks about the orchards at Magor.

Galbian glowered at him. He was hardly eating anything.

Gwien, who had eaten most of his duck, looked back at his brother miserably. He looked around, clearly trying to think of something to say. Unfortunately he noticed Gomoarions-son, who had been silent until now.

He had eaten the breast meat of his duck and a little of the stuffing. "Do you have plums in Narlahena?"

Gwien asked politely.

The Malmish prince frowned. "Of course we do!" he said, in bitten-off Vincan. "Gold plums and blue plums and green plums and apricots and damsons, and also grapes, oranges, lemons, and olives, and other delicious fruit that are quite unknown here where you must eat disgusting tubers." He poked at his stuffing disdainfully. "The trees are heavy with fruit and the land is rich with golden corn. These are the sort of blessings the White God brings to a land. You would see sunshine, the clouds of shame would roll back, and this wet and benighted place would overflow with vines and olives if you were to accept him into your hearts and your lives."

I would have laughed, but for his obvious sincerity. He was very young, only a year or two older than Galbian.

The thought of any god using their power to cause a climate to change so much, and the devastation such a change would occasion, was almost too much for my composure. The gods keep the balance of the world, and however little time I had for the White God and however crazy some of his worshipers were I had never heard that he was completely insane. I filled my mouth quickly and avoided meeting anyone's eyes.

"How have the harvests been in Tir Isarnagiri these last ten years?" Veniva asked, as if she were showing a polite interest in some slight matter.

She was looking at Urdo, but Glividen answered. "Good, lady, but I can report no wonders of fruit like what

grows around the Middle Sea."

He shook his head at Gomoarionsson, who tossed his own head in response. "Come to Narlahena and see how a kingdom can flourish in the light of the Lord. We tried here and though you won with the aid of demons, we have God on our side and cannot be wholly defeated. We will try again and bring this land into light and honor yet."

When he mentioned demons his eyes flicked to me, and then away again. I sighed.

"You are stepping on the borders of courtesy," Urdo said warningly. "I am treating you as a
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guest rather than a prisoner for your father's sake and because Amala asked it, but if your actions warrant it I shall not hesitate to take a captive's oath from you and keep you imprisoned."

Gomoarionsson lowered his eyes and looked away.

Then Marchers son spoke up, surprising everyone. We all turned to him, but he was looking at

Gomoarionsson. "I have been to Narlahena, as you know well enough. It is true that there are grapes, but in all other ways it is a terrible place. It is too hot, and the Malms there are mostly fiery of temper and care little about making things and much about destroying them. Smiths have no honor there, nor does anyone but priests and warriors. They say everyone has their place under the White God, yes, but they would fix them into that place as stones are fixed into a tower where they have no choice but to stay. There is slavery there still, and farmers go in fear of their lords. I have seen that sunlight, and I think rather that God's light is the soft light that shines through the clouds of Tir Tanagiri, or the light at my father's forge, the red forgefire He gives me as a tool I use to make the best iron tools I can. For that work I have respect here and a good place. And when trouble came, though my uncle was a traitor and my own mother came across the sea in arms, Lord Sulien invited us here to be safe. Would that happen in Narlahena? Or would I have been used as a pawn in civil war or executed for what my family have done without my knowledge? I have seen things like that happen there."

He stared at Gomoarionsson until the prince looked down. "You may have seen my father wipe out traitors to the White God, yes, perhaps," he said.

Marchers son shook his head. He looked so much like his mother that I could hardly believe he was talking so sensibly. "I have been brought up to worship the White God Ever Merciful all my life, and the hymns of smithcraft I sing name him, although my grandfather Wyn used to call on Govan-non. I would like everyone to come to know the White God, come to praise him, to understand his mercy and through his sacrifice come to eternal life praising him. But I think bringing that mercy with a sword, as if to force something that should be a good choice on everyone is—" He hesitated, looking around and seeing us all looking at him. He swallowed, then continued much more quietly: "Very wrong."

"That is well said," Urdo said. "I have always said I would have people worship as they would."