A Flame in Hali (51 page)

“I suppose I might get used to it, for such is likely to be my lot once I am
Dom
Tiavan’s wife,” she added ruefully.

“Fear not, you will never become like Rohanne,” he said, “with nothing more important to occupy her time than fretting over gowns and hair. All may yet turn out for the best.”

Now that she was reconciled to her decision, Dyannis felt a subtle lightening of spirit as they came down the last gently rolling stretch of the Venza Hills and into the Lowlands. They rode through pastures where the afternoon sun hung like a veil of honey and cattle lifted their heads to blink sleepily at the travelers, beside orchards already heavy with apple and pear, and past villages with snug cottages, neatly thatched, and well-mended pens.

“I grew up in a village very much like these,” Rella commented.

Children pointed to the strangers, exclaiming over the unfamiliar colors of green and gold, before their mothers hushed them. “They’re Ridenow, and no enemy of ours,” one woman chided her child within earshot. “Varzil the Good is the King’s own
bredu,
did you not know?”

“That’s Uncle Varzil they’re talking about,” Lerrys said to his father. They were riding close enough for Dyannis to overhear.

Dyannis knew the history of the enmity between the two great houses of Ridenow and Hastur, but Harald was old enough to have grown up with it. Even long after the Peace of Allart Hastur, which had put an end to the worst of the feuding, suspicions lingered. Now, with the abiding friendship between Varzil and King Carolin, even those gave way to new hope.

New hope, she thought, but not new peace. Ridenow and Asturias were now bitter enemies. Just before they left Sweetwater, one of Harald’s messengers brought word that Varzil had returned from the Asturias capital as Carolin’s representative to convince the other claimants to sign the Compact. Carolin had even offered to recognize the claim of
Dom
Rafael, brother of the last legitimate king, if he would refrain from using
laran
weapons in war.

So whether he wills it or not, Carolin is involved in this conflict.
Hastur might be linked with Ridenow against Asturias, but Asturias also had powerful connections.
And if we are drawn into open warfare, each side calling upon its allies, will the whole world go up in flames?

And where would she be? Not in a circle, not rebuilding a Tower or healing broken bodies and shattered minds, but locked away, kept safe and idle, perhaps pregnant with
Dom
Tiavan’s heir, unable to use the talents she had trained so hard to master. . . .

An image flashed across her mind—a Tower illuminated by fire, lightning bolts slashing down from the sky, human bodies blazing like living torches . . . the stench of charred flesh . . . screams . . .

She blinked, and the vision faded. Before her, just beyond the base of the hills, Thendara glittered in the afternoon sunlight. Lerrys exclaimed and pointed, but they were as yet too far to make out any individual buildings, even the King’s great castle.

Hali lay beyond the next ridge, the city where she had first met Prince Carolin, the Tower that had been her home for so long, and the lake with its heart of shadows. Raimon waited for her with pleasure and Rorie with hope. Alderic, who had also been her friend, had finished his time there and gone to his marriage with Romilly MacAran, as she would shortly to
Dom
Tiavan.

At the gates of Thendara, guards in Hastur blue and silver politely but firmly asked their reason for entering the city. Harald answered, “Our business is with the king. We have his leave to travel here, and that is all you need to know.”

“No offense, good
mestre,
” the guard said, without the slightest touch of servility, “but it’s my business to make sure that no one but a friend to Hastur passes through here.”

An older guard, who had been standing a little distance away, walked over to investigate. Dyannis recognized him, and saw in his eyes that he knew her, too. He bowed and then said, a little gruffly, to his fellow, “D’ye not know the Lady Dyannis of Hali? Gods, man, what are you thinking, to question a
leronis
of the Tower as if she were common rabble?”

Harald’s eyes widened, but Dyannis could not read his expression. With this many people around, she had raised her
laran
barriers. Lerrys turned in the saddle to stare at her. The guards bowed as they passed through.

Dyannis found Thendara very much as she remembered when she’d left it half a year ago, a great walled city with palaces and towers, marketplaces and mansions. Here the
Comyn
had ruled for unimaginable centuries, since before the Ages of Chaos.

They rode past shops and inns, tables set out upon the cobblestones, between carts laden with rolled Ardcarran carpets, carriages, riders on horses and antlered
chervines,
and curtained sedan chairs trailing perfume. The noise and mingled smells surrounded Dyannis. They came almost to a standstill while several enormous wagons laden with furniture negotiated a difficult turning.

At last they reached the gates of Castle Hastur, a fortress within a fortress. The guards here wore the badge of the King’s household, and if any of them recognized Dyannis, they gave no sign. They searched the entire party for weapons, except for Dyannis herself. It would have been unthinkable for any commoner to lay hands upon a
Comynara,
even if she were not also a
leronis
. Unasked, Dyannis handed over the small eating knife that she carried in her boot. Then she accompanied Harald and Lerrys inside, leaving their attendants to tend to the animals in the courtyard.

It had been Harald’s plan that they arrange for an audience with King Carolin, as befitted their rank as
Comyn,
and then obtain lodging in an inn of suitable respectability. While they were waiting in the outer foyer where other petitioners had gathered, a courtier appeared and immediately ushered them into Carolin’s presence chamber.

Dyannis remembered being presented to old King Felix in a similar chamber shortly after she had arrived at Hali. Prince Carolin had just returned from Arilinn, along with Varzil and Eduin. Felix Hastur, over a century old, occupied the throne, attended solicitously by his nephew, Rakhal.

The world had gone on, through Felix’s dotage and his death, Rakhal’s treason, and Carolin’s exile and restoration. This chamber was very much like its fellow at Hali, with its rich furnishings and courtiers like extravagantly feathered birds in their costly robes and ornaments of copper and gold.

They halted where the courtier bid them, to be announced. Carolin, smiling warmly, gestured them to come forward.

“
Dom
Harald, I am delighted to welcome the brother of my friend Varzil to Thendara. Lady Dyannis, it is good to see you again.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Your Majesty,” she replied.

“And who is this fine lad?” Carolin asked.

Harald bowed, stiffly but with dignity, and introduced Lerrys. He had anticipated a wait of hours or days before being presented formally to the great king, and certainly not with trail dust clinging to his boots. Lerrys held himself well, although his awe and delight were obvious.

Carolin, with his characteristic graciousness, said, “All three of you must dine with us tonight. Maura will be pleased to see you again. Meanwhile, be at your ease in Castle Hastur. My
coridom
will find suitable chambers for you and your people, and stabling for your animals. Once you have settled in,
Dom
Harald, I will send word to Varzil of your arrival. I believe he has been waiting to see you.”

“Para servirte, vai dom,”
Harald replied in formal
casta.

A middle-aged man in the garb of a highly-ranking
coridom
stepped forward and made a deep reverence. Dyannis recognized him from years before, although he had held a far lesser rank then. After receiving orders from Carolin, the
coridom
led the party from the presence chamber.

“
Mestre
Ruival, isn’t it?” Dyannis asked as they followed the
coridom
down the long corridors laid with runners of wine-colored carpet. “How fares your family?”

“Very well,
vai leronis
. Thank you for your kind inquiry.”

She laughed. “The kindness was all yours once, for I think we would all have starved without you, that first Midwinter season.”

“If you will follow me to your chambers, I pray you will find them appropriate.” Without waiting for a reply, he led them to a suite of luxurious rooms.

The furniture was comfortable but not overly ornate, the wood oiled to a satiny sheen, the air freshened with bowls of rosalys and lilias. Thick carpets cushioned their steps. A central sitting room gave way to several interconnecting bedchambers. Harald and Lerrys proceeded to their own.

The one indicated for Dyannis clearly was meant for a lady with attendant maids. Rella was already laying out the contents of the clothes chest. The girl’s face flushed with excitement. The journey to Thendara had been more adventure than she’d known in her short life, and she had never dreamed of staying in the royal castle.

Dyannis closed the door and lowered herself into the cushioned chair beside the fireplace. It had not yet been lit, but the room was warm enough. She could hear the faint rumble of Harald’s voice from across the suite. She had not realized until now, when she was to leave him forever, how much she would miss her brother. Even the thought of seeing Varzil again only increased her sadness, for she must disappoint all his hopes for her. They would never join their minds in a circle again.

Dyannis never once considered telling Harald she’d changed her mind. She had given her word, as Ridenow, as
Comynara,
and, for the last time, as
leronis.

With a heavy heart, she allowed Rella to bathe her face and hands, dress her, and arrange her hair for dinner with the King.

Dyannis followed Harald and the bright-eyed page sent to summon them to the royal wing. In the central chamber, a table had been set for an intimate family meal. Banks of candles cast a honey-soft glow across the polished wood, the ornaments of gold and white. Maura Hastur-Elhalyn, once
leronis
of Hali and then Tramontana, and now Queen, stepped forward to greet them. She had not worked in a Tower since her marriage to Carolin, but she still held herself with quiet reserve. Her flame-bright hair was simply dressed and she wore her favorite colors, sea green and gray.

How good it is to see you again!
she spoke mentally to Dyannis.

Dyannis had only a moment or two while Harald was still bowing. For a wild moment, she thought of sharing her sorrow with Maura, as one
leronis
to another. Maura, of all people, would understand her situation. But if Maura then spoke to Carolin on her behalf, he might intervene—

No, Dyannis thought, it was dangerous to think such things. Hope would weaken her resolve, erode her acceptance. Her fate was in the hands of the gods.

The moment vanished as quickly as it had come, leaving a wave of longing.
Blessed Cassilda, give me strength!

Varzil!
From the clarity of his thought, he must be quite near. She had been so caught up in her own misery, feeling so isolated, that she had missed his approach.

The next instant, the door at the far end of the room swung open and Carolin entered, along with Varzil. There were exclamations all round as the two brothers, Varzil and Harald, greeted one another. Much to everyone’s amusement, Varzil behaved just like a doting uncle, remarking how Lerrys had grown.

“I met your father once,
Dom
Harald,” Carolin said, as they sat down at the table and servants began bringing in the meal. “He was at Arilinn for
Comyn
Council season while I was a student there. You look very like him.”

“I did not know you had ever met,” Harald said. “He never spoke of it.”

“He did not know me as Carolin Hastur, but only as the nameless courier who chased him down on his way to Sweetwater.”

“Father had just refused to let me study at the Tower,” Varzil said, smiling. “Everything changed when news came that Harald had been taken by the catmen. We were only a half-day’s ride out of Arilinn, and there was no possible way of getting home within a tenday. Carolin arranged for an aircar and then insisted that Father take me back.”

“So you are responsible for Varzil being there, to bargain with the catmen as no other man could have done,” Harald said, inclining his head. “For that,
vai dom,
I owe my life to you as well.”

“At the time,” Carolin said, “I thought only that someone of Varzil’s talent must be given a chance at the Tower. I don’t think any of us realized what would come from it—the Compact, the rebuilding of Neskaya . . .”

“It is unwise to claim personal credit for those things that are the product of the dedication and good will of many men,” Varzil said.

“And women,” Maura said.

“Indeed,” Carolin answered her, “sometimes I think that women do more to reshape our world than we do, but so skillfully and modestly that no one ever notices.”

“No one notices?” Maura teased. “How can you miss Lady Liriel, your own kinswoman? Or Queen Taniquel, or Romilly MacAran, or even Jandria in her red vest, fighting as bravely as any man?”

Varzil, it turned out, had returned to Hali Tower for a season. “At least,” he said lightly, “I think I have. I’ve been running around the countryside so much, I sometimes wake up not quite sure where I am.”

Carolin laughed. “It was selfish of me to take you from Neskaya to act as my emissary to Asturias, but there was no one else who could have carried it off.”

“A difficult business, that,” Varzil replied, as the others looked up, eager to hear the story. “It was a politely disguised exchange of hostages, while attempting to spread the Compact—I say
attempting,
for the Asturias lords would have no part in it. I think they are too frightened to give up their
laran
weapons.”