The Star Scroll Part 24

"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 fashion. "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 sunshine 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?"

"All begun the instant you finally showed your noses," she a.s.sured him, then turned to the regent. "Princess Tobin has offered her tent for your comfort. You'll probably want to rest while Ostvel and your steward supervise your camp."

"Thank you, your grace. That would be most welcome." She bowed and withdrew, accompanied by a waiting-woman who hovered at her side.

Maarken then came forward to greet Sioned. "Has Andrade arrived yet?" he whispered in her ear.

"Later today, perhaps tomorrow. And I haven't forgotten our wager." She drew away and smiled at him. "Your parents will want to see you at once. And Sorin's been by several times from Volog's tents, asking when you'd arrive."

"Sorin? Oh-of course! He's to be knighted in a few days." Maarken turned to a squire. "Find my brother at the Kierstian tents, please, and tell him I'll be with our parents." To Sioned, he went on, "We'll all dine together tonight?"

"Naturally." Maarken strode off and Sioned waved her husband and son into the pavilion. "Baths and food for both of you, and then a rest."

"But I'm not tired, Mother."

"You will be."

A short while later, the promised hot bath and breakfast proved her correct. Pol yawned his way into the portion of the huge tent sectioned off for his bedchamber, and Rohan shared a smile with his wife.

"Are you always right?"

"Not always-but I'm never never wrong." wrong."

He snorted. "And if you are, you don't admit it."

"Neither do you." She refilled their cups with steaming hot taze and leaned back in her chair, set opposite his at the desk. "Maarken kept me informed, of course, but I want to hear it all from you."

Rohan smiled. "Pandsala wasn't just being polite, you know. I think everybody who met Pol wanted to take him home!"

"Just as I expected. Tell me about the va.s.sals."

"There aren't many. Roelstra took most of Princemarch into his own hands, so the holdings are run by glorified stewards, not athri'im. athri'im. There are four exceptions. My favorite is Lord Garic of Elktrap Manor. He's a crafty old soul-waited out Roelstra, hiding most of his wealth, with the result that his two pretty granddaugh ters are dowered like princesses." There are four exceptions. My favorite is Lord Garic of Elktrap Manor. He's a crafty old soul-waited out Roelstra, hiding most of his wealth, with the result that his two pretty granddaugh ters are dowered like princesses."

"Mmm. Speaking of princesses and dowries. . . ." She told him about her conversation with Davvi and her solution to his problem.

"Very astute of you, love. Chale can probably use the comfort Gemma's presence will give him." He rubbed his forehead wearily. "What news should I know about?"

Sioned detailed what she knew, what she suspected, and what was currently rumored. Rohan listened in impa.s.sive silence to the long recital, and at last nodded slowly.

"Something interesting happened the day before we left. Pandsala has been scouring Princemarch since spring for any word about this pretender. As it happens, he grew up at Dasan Manor, and his name is Masul. Lord Emlys of Dasan was long gone from Castle Crag with the other va.s.sals and stewards by the time word came, so we couldn't question him. Pandsala's informant says that Masul vanished about the end of spring with a little money, the clothes on his back, a sword, and Emlys' best horse. The horse turned up in Einar, of all places. But Masul is already in Waes, I'd bet anything on it."

"What do they say about him? Is it possible he's Roelstra's son?"

Rohan stretched the tension from his shoulders and Sioned went to stand behind him, rubbing the strong taut muscles. "Ahh . . . that's wonderful. They say the boy is tall, with dark hair and green eyes. Lived with his grandparents at Dasan. Their daughters were in service at Castle Crag, one of them as nursemaid to Kiele and Lamia. And now you tell me Kiele is circulating word that this Masul just may be her brother. An interesting connection, don't you think?"

"Her invitation to Chiana becomes clear, too. You know how we wondered about that all summer. They've never been fond of each other, especially since Chiana tried to seduce Lyell. Kiele's going to pay her back with public humiliation."

"Roelstra's daughters are such delightful women." Rohan murmured.

"Now, I've always liked Naydra and so have you. I was talking to her last evening, and she said the oddest thing. We spoke of her sisters and-"

"Sioned? Rohan?" Tobin peeked around the part.i.tion. "Your son claims he's about to expire of starvation and asks can we please eat now? I must say I agree with him. It's noon."

"Have we been talking that long?" Rohan asked, surprised. "And when did Pol sneak out of here?"

"After lunch, you're going to bed," Sioned told him.

"All alone?" He pulled a forlorn face.

"You don't have the energy to do me justice," she said, laughing. "Besides, I've got a surprise planned for later. Get what sleep you can, because you won't get any tonight."

"You have a way of making a threat sound absolutely delightful."

Late that night they saw their resentful but obedient son tucked up in bed and left the pavilion. Guards trained by Maeta in the arts of protecting irreplaceable princes were on duty; Pol was safe. The family had drunk to Maeta that night at dinner after Maarken and Pol had told them of the manner of her death. When they returned to the Desert, the rest of her ashes would be scattered on wind summoned by the faradhi faradhi princess she had served-and the young, untrained princess she had served-and the young, untrained faradhi faradhi prince she had given her life to protect. Pol's education would begin early so that he might perform this service for his kinswoman. prince she had given her life to protect. Pol's education would begin early so that he might perform this service for his kinswoman.

Sioned would teach him, and she cared not a d.a.m.n what Andrade thought of it.

"Where are you taking me?" Rohan asked as they strolled the riverbank past the bridge.

"Back twenty years," she replied, leaning her head on to his shoulder. "You've just done something dreadfully heroic by saving me from the evil clutches of an infamous seducer-"

"Heroic, eh?" Rohan laughed. "And we're about to antic.i.p.ate our marriage vows by several days, is that it?" He held her closer to his side. "I thought I loved you then. It was nothing compared to now."

"You haven't lost your romantic impulses," she approved, and conjured up a tiny flame on the damp gra.s.s ahead of them, gentle light that limned the shape of a willow tree. Parting its branches, she revealed the snug den she had created the afternoon before, over which a bemused guard had kept watch until tonight.

Rohan slid inside and Sioned followed after damping the little Fire. "It's considerably more welcoming than last time," he commented, patting the blankets spread on the ground. "As I recall, we had to use your skirt for a bed." He reached over and fingered the two gla.s.ses and bottle nestled against the willow's trunk. "And you accused me me of being a romantic!" The faint light of moons and stars filtered through the silver-green canopy of leaves around them, touching his face with cool, soft fire. Sioned took his hands, held them to her cheeks, turned her head to kiss each palm. of being a romantic!" The faint light of moons and stars filtered through the silver-green canopy of leaves around them, touching his face with cool, soft fire. Sioned took his hands, held them to her cheeks, turned her head to kiss each palm.

"I love you," Rohan said.

Their lips met and they sank down onto the blanket, content for a long while simply to kiss one another. Sioned lost herself in the warmth of his arms, the wine; on his tongue, the delicate nuances of his mouth on her own. Bones melting, sweet weakness stealing through her veins, cherished familiar ache growing in her body, she glimpsed in memory the shy youth who had first made love to her beneath this willow tree, and smiled against his lips.

Chapter Sixteen.

Prince Volog of Kierst was Sioned's cousin, a fact no one would have cared about had she remained an obscure Sunrunner at G.o.ddess Keep. But she had married Rohan, who had become High Prince; events had made her brother Prince of Syr. Thus Volog found himself blood-bonded to some very important people.

He was wise enough-and proud enough-neither to ask favors nor to trade on the relationships. There was no need to do either. His position and his possessions made the bond one Rohan was pleased to acknowledge to their mutual advantage. In his turn, Volog found Rohan a pleasant friend and a helpful kinsman. He did not resent the chance that had given Sioned their grandmother's faradhi faradhi gifts instead of himself, for he was that rare man who held onto what was his, appreciated what life gave him, and did not extend himself beyond his known limitations. gifts instead of himself, for he was that rare man who held onto what was his, appreciated what life gave him, and did not extend himself beyond his known limitations.

To be sure, he gloated over the eventual union of Kierst with Isel into a single princedom. But he did so in private, not wishing to stir up trouble that Saumer of Isel was perfectly capable of causing until their grandson came of age. At Rohan's strong suggestion, a marriage had taken place between Saumer's only son and Volog's eldest girl. Volog's heir had later wed Saumer's favorite daughter. The latter union had produced a son who became sole heir to both princedoms when Saumer's heir died without issue. The child would be brought up at both courts until his twelfth winter, at which time Volog intended Saumer to agree to the boy's fostering at Stronghold. He did not require Saumer's approval, but he was smart enough to know that they ought to be in accord over the education of their mutual heir. Volog enjoyed his triumph in private, and in public was the soul of friendship to Saumer. Each man conveniently forgot about the hundreds of years their forebears had spent encouraging land-thievery and cattle-stealing along their mutual border.

Volog had another daughter, his youngest child and his favorite. Alasen was a charming girl, twenty-two winters old, with gold-lit brown hair and green eyes the color of the sea off the Kierstian coast. Delicate arching brows and a sweet, serious mouth completed her beauty; her intelligence was evident in her face and her conversation. She was Volog's pride and joy.

But she was not looking her best when he presented her with gruff pride to Sioned on the first morning of the Rialla. Rialla. Her cheeks were pallid, her eyes dark-circled, and there was a pinched expression about her mouth. Sioned knew that none of it was due to trepidation at meeting the High Princess. She knew the signs of a protracted recovery from crossing water when she saw them. Her cheeks were pallid, her eyes dark-circled, and there was a pinched expression about her mouth. Sioned knew that none of it was due to trepidation at meeting the High Princess. She knew the signs of a protracted recovery from crossing water when she saw them.