The Prize in the Game (27 page)

"Her allies might not take any notice," Conal said. "They're panting at the prospect of carving up Oriel." He would never have believed things could be so bad. A year ago, he had fought off Atha's attack. Now Atha was their only ally, and depending on what Beastmother's threat had meant, Oriel might be about to be destroyed.

Suffer, he thought for the thousandth time, turning it over in his mind. Suffer as the mare suffered. The mare had died. Would they all die in the first battle? Or die as soon as the border was crossed? Or would they all be in some way struck down, transformed and helpless as his dreams told him? In some ways, that would be the worst of all.

Ap Carbad sighed. "Can a kingdom be carved up like a cow?" Immediately, Conal's overactive mind offered up the image of Amagien carving the cow at Edar. The first among the young champions. His father would never forgive him for losing, never. He would never forgive himself. He felt sick at the memory. "Would the gods allow it?"

Inis looked up. "Kingdoms can be lost. The victors make a new peace with the gods of the land.

This is how our ancestors took Tir Isarnagiri. It isn't even difficult. A man and a woman lie together on the earth and call on the gods to answer, and the world changes, names change. The land gods listen to the king, whoever the king is, and that is one way to make a kingdom."

"But the law prevents such wars," Orlam said gently. "Unless there is cause for a bloodfeud, and there is no such cause here. No cause at all."

"The law is what we have come to call on," ap Carbad said. "We will tell Maga that she will be placed under the Ban if she takes advantage of our weakness to invade for her own power."

"It will be enforced," Orlam said. "It might be little comfort to us afterwards, but they are sure at Rathadun.

And the threat of the Ban ought to be enough to prevent Maga from this course."

"Or anyone," ap Carbad said. "Why do people risk such wars, dead against the Ward?"

"Feuds, or invasions of strangers," Inis said, and his eyes had that glaze that meant he was looking across the worlds. "Or the Ward may be broken. All these things are coming, too. Soon, but not yet. Maga is enough for now, and set on her purposes."

Conal had about a thousand questions, but he knew better than to ask his grandfather. "That's not cheering news," he said. Inis grinned.

Ap Carbad frowned. "That Beastmother is ready to destroy all of us for breaking our covenants with the animals is hardly cheering news either," he said sternly. "Don't make remarks like that to Maga. I told Conary you were the wrong choice for this mission. Too young and frivolous." He sniffed.

"My father said the same," Conal said and smiled.

Orlam whirled around. "Can we stop having this stupid argument? We're all heralds of Oriel.

We need to be united. Conal is here and will do what he can. Conary wanted to send a nephew.

Darag is ... busy, and my brother would hardly be appropriate."

Being as it was all Leary's fault that Maga knew about their weakness, to be sure. Conal would have replied with an attempt to conciliate ap Carbad, but the door opened and a champion of Connat came in. "Come to the Lower Hall, Maga will see you now," he said, bowing.

They followed him out in silence.

The Lower Hall was crowded. Maga and Allel sat together on a bench at one end, their three children standing behind them. Conal didn't look at anything else for a while, for there was
Page 100

Emer, Emer at last. His heart rose at the sight of her after so long. She looked tired and sad, and her face was pulled down where her scar was. He longed to hold her, to smooth her cheek, to get into a chariot with her and drive far away. She smiled when their eyes met, which was enough to let him know that everything was all right. Then she looked away.

To her right stood two priests, one middle-aged, his shawl folded tidily, the other very old, her white hair so thin that it hardly showed where it was cut for the gods. Her eyes were very dark and alert, moving over the crowd. To Maga's left stood a man who must be her lawspeaker. He was smiling at Orlam. Next to him was ap Dair the Poet. Conal looked over the crowd and was surprised to meet Ferdia's eyes. He looked bemused, as so often. Conal felt a little sorry for him. Next to Ferdia was his father, Cethern of Lagin. He was looking at the heralds appraisingly.

His uncle Lew of Anlar was there, too, dressed in armor, avoiding Conal's eyes.

Things were very bad if even Anlar had deserted Oriel. Yet Lew's being here in the hall might be good. All of the leaders of Maga's allies must be here, and some of their champions as well as most of hers. Perhaps it would be possible to shame her in front of them.

After they had been given heralds' welcomes and safe-conducts, ap Carbad spoke first as they had agreed, holding up his big beech branch.

"We have heard that you intend to make war on Oriel, and King Conary would know why."

Maga smiled. Conal didn't like to look at Maga. He had expected her to look like Elenn, but she didn't. When she smiled like that, she looked like a twisted version of Emer. It was painful to see. "That's easily answered," she said. "We do not intend to make war."

Ap Carbad was silent for a moment, clearly taken aback. "Then we have been misinformed," he said in a tone of doubt.

"And all these military preparations we saw as we came south?" Conal asked, his tone one of polite inquiry.

Maga laughed. Conal looked away from her. Elenn, he noticed, was looking into the crowd.

Mingor and Allel both looked at Maga with approval. Emer was frowning and staring at her feet. "We are planning a cattle raid,"

Maga said, spreading her hands. "You see, my husband has a wonderful bull, and I would have one to match it for my herds. I have heard that Amagien the Poet has a truly wonderful bull, famed in song, at his farm of

Edar." Her eyes rested on Conal for a moment, full of contempt and triumph. "We have decided to go raiding up through Oriel until we should reach our prize or be stopped. There is nothing in the law against that, is there, lawspeaker?" She was so smug she was almost purring. A ripple of laughter ran around the court.

Most of their arguments were demolished by this outrageous claim. A raid was different from a war.

"Not if you keep the law," Orlam said evenly.

"Of course we will keep the law," Maga said. "But if we were to find our way undefended, then we might keep what we had taken. This would not be against the law. It would not be a feud where all must die and no prisoners be taken."

Conal could see it already. They were as good as dead. Or, possibly, enslaved if the curse did not kill them.

But Inis turned to him and winked.

Then Inis took a half-step forward. He took off his shawl, shook it, and settled it again on his shoulders. There was something about the way he did this which was compelling. Conal darted a glance away and saw that almost the -whole room was watching Inis. The other priests, both of them, rearranged their own shawls.

Nobody else moved at all. With one hand on his herald's branch and the other outstretched, palm downward, Inis spoke at last.

Page 101

"Will you send many against one?" he asked.

There was a silence. "Of course not," Allel answered, glancing sideways at Maga, who looked uncomfortable but stared at Inis with the rest.

"Will you skulk in the woods and go around defended roads?" Inis asked.

"Never," Allel answered. "We will fight by the rules of war. Do you think we have no honor?"

Inis swayed a little as if he were absorbing the force of the direct question. "You have honor, Allel ap Dalian, but does your king?" he answered. "Will she stand by your words?"

"Allel is my war-leader," Maga said. "Such choices are his."

"Do you stand by his words, Maga ap Arcan?" Inis asked.

"Yes," Maga said. "We will not send many against one. We will not go around defended roads. Not that I

think there will be many defended roads."

"There are only two roads from Connat into Oriel," ap Carbad said, stating the obvious.

"One with deep water and the other lined with thorns," Inis agreed, which was more poetry than sense. Conal had come by the one with deep water this time. The ford had been very pleasant in the sunshine. He had gone home by way of the one lined by thorns last time, and found it an ordinary wooded road.

"Two will be enough," Maga said.

Conal was afraid she was right. But Inis looked insanely cheerful, so maybe it had not been enough in other worlds. He couldn't see how. Even if they had two people who could fight, who could fight all these champions, even one at a time? Maybe Inis was just too crazy to care.

There was a feast for them that night. Conal kept trying to speak to Emer, but he couldn't get near her. He was seated with Inis and Maga and Elenn. Emer was off in the opposite alcove with her father and Orlam and ap Carbad.

"So nice to be able to talk to you again, ap Amagien," Maga said as she served the meat. "How very kind of

Conary to send a nephew, even if he couldn't spare his heir."

Conal wondered if Maga could possibly know what Darag was doing right now. He smiled at her as best he could. "I will have to suffice," he said. He glanced over at the opposite alcove.

There was an advantage to this seating. Ap Carbad couldn't possibly hear anything he said.

"Besides, I had another reason for wanting to come. I want to negotiate with you about my marrying your younger daughter, my charioteer, Emer." He took a bite of his venison and smiled at her around it.

"Does Conary agree?" Maga asked.

"He does," Conal said. It had been a hard fought battle, and he had often wished Emer was there to help.

Conary liked Emer. "He has written to you ceasing the negotiations for her to marry Darag and asking about this. Have you not received the letter?"

"And what about your dear parents?" Maga asked, sidestepping that question entirely.

Conal would rather not have been asked that. "They will raise no objection," he said, stretching the truth a little thin. They would raise no more objections if faced with an actual marriage, anyway. At least he hoped not.

"Then it is a pity," Maga said, biting her lip as if she meant it. "Only this past month I have agreed a different alliance for Emer. I thought that since Conary was no longer offering Darag and since an alliance with Oriel didn't suit my plans, I should look elsewhere. Might you be interested in Elenn instead?" She gestured to

Elenn, who was eating neatly. She was dressed beautifully, as always. She gave him a look that had daggers in it, but said nothing.

Page 102

Conal raised his eyebrows to indicate that he didn't believe a word of what Maga said. "You astonish me," he said. Inis let out his high-pitched cackle.

"What, ap Amagien, with the news that it is my ugly daughter and not my beautiful one who is first betrothed?" Maga asked. "But Elenn has not yet taken up arms."

Conal was so furious that he was almost glad to be freed of the constraints of politeness. "Why, you wrong yourself and the daughter who inherited your looks," he said. "Elenn is something out of the ordinary, of course, hair like black night and eyes like stars as my father's poem puts it. But Emer is not ugly, indeed she is better than plain. As you also must have been when you were young."

For a moment, he saw that he had really angered Maga, and rejoiced. Inis sat contemplating them, a smile on his lips. Elenn was shrinking back against the wall as if to avoid a blow. Then Maga leaned forward toward him and smiled. "Conal," she said, and hearing his name on her lips was shocking, showing they had left behind even feigned politeness. "You have made me an offer. Now tell me what it gains me to marry my daughter to you?"

"Peace with Oriel," he said.

Maga laughed scornfully. "That is not something I wish to gain. She could be a queen. She could give me a kingdom."

"She could yet be a queen married to me. The choice of the Kin of Oriel has not been made.

There are many chances in the world." Even as he said it, Conal realized that he didn't believe it anymore. Darag would be king, and his sons after him. Nothing he could do would be enough.

Maga raised her eyebrows in scornful doubt. "Is that the best you can offer?" she asked. "Then listen to me, Conal. Oriel is doomed. You're clever enough to see that. It is mine already. It isn't even going to exist when my cattle raid is over. Come and join me. You can be one of my champions, fighting for me and for Connat, living in my hall. This isn't very much gain for a daughter, but I am prepared to accept it."

Conal looked away from Maga's eager face. Inis was staring into the invisible distance.

Elenn's lips were parted in astonishment.

He couldn't possibly agree. He could hardly believe she thought he had so little honor that he might take her offer seriously. Nobody would. Still, saying that would gain him nothing. He looked across the room. Emer was talking to Orlam. He glanced at Inis and saw that his grandfather was bright eyed again, watching him.

He took another bite of his venison, chewed and swallowed, then looked back at Maga.

"I will say nothing now to your proposal. Let me talk to Emer."

"Then talk to her," Maga said. "But this offer is made reluctantly and at her request."

"She has done nothing but beg to be allowed to marry you since she came home," Elenn said.

Maga spared

Elenn an irritated glance and looked back at Conal.

"You can speak to her after dinner," she said.

They continued their meal in silence, broken only by Inis's occasional humming. When Conal got up to go to

Emer, his grandfather put his hand on his shoulder. Conal looked at him, but he said nothing, just let him go again.