Limits of Power (70 page)

Next morning, Arcolin breakfasted with his recruit captain; Calla had, she told him, a busy day planned for herself and Jamis. He himself planned to ride out to the hills with Dattur to meet the gnomes. When he came to the forecourt with Dattur, he found the estvin and four gnomes waiting for him. They wore gray with an elaborate pattern of braid running down the front of their jackets. He could read the gnomish now: Arcolinfulk. His name. His people.

“Greetings, rockbrothers,” Arcolin said in gnomish. The gnomes bowed, and he bowed in return. “It is my honor to see you again in this place. I have studied your speech with the help of Dattur.” He gestured to Dattur.

“That one
kteknik,
” the estvin said in Common. “It is not to wear the tribe's garments.”

Dattur took two steps forward, confronting the estvin. “My prince names me belonging. Aldonfulk accepted him as prince and on his word gave me clothes. And you know me, Frakkur.”

“Name forbidden.” The estvin looked up at Arcolin. “This one
kteknik.
”

“You were
all
kteknik
by Dragon's word,” Arcolin said, in gnomish again. “You had no stone-right. I gave stone-right. Now you wear a uniform naming your prince. Who is your prince?”

The estvin prostrated himself, as did the others, once more kissing Arcolin's boot. Dattur, to his surprise, kissed his other boot. “Lord, it is that the lord Duke is our prince.”

“Yes,” Arcolin said. He wondered how they'd learned of his elevation, but this was not the time to ask. “And as your prince I say none of you are
kteknik,
nor is this gnome I met on my travels, Dattur, who was of your tribe before.”

Still holding Arcolin's boot, the estvin said, “This one was cast out by our prince that was.”

“And restored to the Law by your prince who
is,
” Arcolin said. “Is it that the estvin argues with the Law?”

“No, my lord.” The estvin kissed his boot again and backed away before standing. “As the prince commands.”

“Then welcome one returned from a long journey and much danger, one who has performed great deeds and services for his prince,” Arcolin said. “I bid you accept him once more.”

The estvin bowed to Dattur, who returned the bow; each of the others performed the same ritual.

“I would come to you and see the progress you have made,” Arcolin said. “It was my purpose to do so today, in hopes of finding that you prospered.”

“It is our joy,” the estvin said. “We have prospered indeed in your favor, O prince.”

On the ride to the west hills, Arcolin watched as the little procession of gnomes jogged along, covering the ground as fast as his long-legged chestnut could walk. As they neared the hills, he saw a change in the outline and a beaten path leading alongside a stream, then, closer, the narrow line in the turf, a slash through brush. When they reached the entrance, one of the gnomes took charge of Arcolin's horse, and Dattur followed the others underground. Arcolin pulled the scarf Aldonfulk had given him from his saddlebag and hung it around his neck. The estvin bowed twice, then led Arcolin within.

The rest of that day he spent with the gnomes, partly under stone. They apologized for the roughness of the excavation so far, but to Arcolin it looked amazingly finished. “The great hall we have not begun,” the estvin said. “We will need more workers, and we wished to ask your preference for it. If you will be indwelling with us, or not. That which is large enough for us would not be large for you.”

Arcolin chose his words carefully. “I would do my duty to you, my people, but I must also do my duty to my king in Vérella and my other people, who are spread from here to Valdaire and beyond. I cannot therefore indwell with you as your prince ought. By the Law, I must be your prince; you can have no other, is it not?”

“It is so,” the estvin said.

“Then by the Law, I must appoint one of you to be a guardian until I return. While I am here this winter, I will come often to you, and learn more of each of you, before making that appointment.” Dattur had suggested this. Arcolin thought Dattur, with his experience of the outside world, would be the best guardian, but he realized that imposing an exile on those remaining might cause trouble.

The estvin bowed.

“Now I will hear a report of the tribe,” Arcolin said. “Births and deaths, illnesses and injuries, recoveries, what stores you have of food, and so on.”

“None have died, O prince,” the estvin said. “One babe has been added to the tribe but will have no name until Midwinter, if it please the prince. It is the custom.” The estvin clapped his hands, and one of the others brought a book. “The records, O prince, and if the prince cannot read—”

“But slowly,” Arcolin said. “The symbols are still new to me.”

“Then I will assist as the prince asks,” the estvin said.

The gnomes had planted seeds from the grain he had sent with them in the spring and harvested that grain and wild grasses as well. They had snared rabbits and other small game—every one entered in the book—and begun the cultivation within the excavation of things Arcolin guessed were edible fungi of different types. Not all wore the new uniforms, the estvin explained, eyes cast down, as there had not been time to grow the … whatever it was they made cloth from. Arcolin decided he did not want to know. The women and children, and some of the men, still wore the cloth Arcolin had given them, but all who met the outside world went properly attired.

“You have done well,” Arcolin said, when the account ended.

“It is by the prince's mercy,” the estvin said. “It is a great debt.”

“It is no debt to a prince, to have the people prosper,” Arcolin said. Once more he thought, as he had the previous winter, of what might have been … gnome children dead in the snow.

The estvin's brow wrinkled. “It is strange—”

“For both of us,” Arcolin said. “But not a bad thing.”

“No.” The estvin sighed. “My prince … when you think of someone to be your … your hesktak … you should consider that … that one who came with you. Datturnaknitunak.”

“Advise me,” Arcolin said.

“It is hard to say. It is … he was … he was should have died, but … but his living … it is not that kapristi think luck, but favor of Law is not luck.”

That was sufficiently tangled that it took Arcolin a long moment to figure it out. “He told me he was taken away and left—”

“Yes. One who died later took him. The prince before ordered it. Ordered not kill but leave to die. Datturnaknitunak is—was—one seeks truth. Prince before said not looking, not talking. Datturnaknitunak would look, would tell. Not … obedient to prince. Said to Law.”

“Did you know this before Dragon came?” Arcolin asked.

“Some.” The estvin looked down. “It is shame. We believed—we thought we believed—the prince spoke Law. Fear ruled, not Law. So … you should choose him.”

“Would fear rule you again?” Arcolin asked.

“I … not know.”

Arcolin nodded. “You know I am a man of war. You know I understand courage?”

“Yes, prince.”

“When you came to me last winter, you were afraid.”

“Yes, prince.”

“But you came. You were afraid of Dragon, and of me, but you came. And when I offered refuge, you were afraid, were you not?”

“Yes, prince, but—but no other choices.”

“Always other choices,” Arcolin said, a direct quote from their Law. The estvin looked up at him. “
Always
other choices. You could have chosen death, but you chose life and the risks of life. I say to you: that was courage. Every one of you who came—you kapristi and your kapristinya and the littlest of the children among you—you all had courage greater than your fear. You came into a human place, among humans who had not the Law, and lived among us from winter into spring and then moved here, to new stone, stone you knew had been infested with orcs. That is courage greater than fear.”

“The prince is merciful.”

“The prince intends to be just,” Arcolin said. Quoting again from the Law, he went on. “Kapristin deal not in mercy, but in justice—is it not so?”

“It is so!” The estvin's eyes were shining now.

“The prince will not have confusion about this,” Arcolin said. “For the Law is the Law, and even a human—even one such as I, newly learning the Law—can recognize justice. Because the prince is human, the prince will need what we call a judicar to guide the prince in matters of Law, until such time as the prince has learned it perfectly, but the prince will rule.”

“Yes, O prince!”

“And for this, the prince will also take the words of the estvin into account. For a prince who must travel abroad needs both a steward—a hesktak—and an advisor in the Law. And it is in my mind that they should not be the same person.”

“It is so, my prince.”

Dattur reappeared with the other gnomes who were in gray. All bowed.

“Would you see everyone?” the estvin asked.

“Not today,” Arcolin said, hoping that was the right answer. “I must go, to prepare for holding court for the humans of my realm tomorrow. Perhaps I should wait to greet you all until all are formally dressed.”

The estvin bowed again. “That would be appropriate, O prince. The cloth you gave us was indeed appreciated, but we are most comfortable in the clothes of our princedom.”

“I will come every fiveday to see what your needs are,” Arcolin said. “If a need arises suddenly, send someone to the stronghold. I do have other news to share. Unrest in Aarenis seems certain to spread north—” He explained about the regalia, the Duke of Immer's ambitions, and the return of active magery among some families in the north. “Duke Verrakai and I think it possible he might come up the Honnorgat as well; the Aldonfulk prince might agree to help defend the pass above Valdaire, but only humans remain to guard the Honnorgat. You should be safe up here—the Duke of Immer wants the regalia, not our cold hills, and there will be recruits and veterans to defend the villages and strongholds.”

The gnomes, as he'd expected, did not react. “We grow stronger,” the estvin said. As Arcolin turned to leave, the estvin said, “O prince—will it please you to let us keep your stole in a place of honor? It should not be seen in the light of day.”

Arcolin lifted it off and handed it to the estvin, who bowed again. “When you come next, O prince, you will have your throne.”

Next day, Arcolin met with the village councils of both Duke's East and Duke's West, settled those disputes the councils had set aside for his return, and told them about the possible threat. Veterans who had retired after Siniava's War nodded. “Always thought he'd be trouble,” one said. “But we'll give him trouble if he comes up here.”

As winter deepened, Arcolin traveled to Burningmeed to hold Duke's Court and then to visit his neighbor to the east. They discussed the possibility of a southern invasion up the Honnorgat. Arcolin kept careful watch for any signs of magery in his domain, but saw none other than the gnomes' continuing use of rock magery in their new stone-right.

Chaya, Lyonya

B
y autumn, both elves and humans had become accustomed to the king's ability to generate an elvenhome. It was not so large as the Lady's had been, though no one knew if it would expand to that size in time. With practice and Arian's help, Kieri had found a way to damp the light completely at night. He suspected it was not the way Orlith would have taught him, but none of the elves remaining in Lyonya knew how—or admitted it. He could make it more permeable, as well, but he could not lessen its effect on his subjects.

“I'm not
trying
to lay a glamour on them,” he said to Arian one morning. “It just has that effect. I've wondered if that's an effect of the elvenhome itself. If the Lady, for instance, did not intend the intensity of the glamours she laid.”

“The elves are certainly more cooperative,” Arian said, grinning. “Surely you don't mind that.”

“What worries me is that
everyone
is more cooperative. Not that I want to deal with troublemakers every day, but honest disagreement keeps commanders—and I assume kings—from making stupid mistakes. No one is right all the time. That's why I have a Council. I want my Council members to say what they think, even if I don't agree.”

“Could you tell them that? Maybe if you say you want disagreement when they feel it, they'll cooperate by disagreeing.”

“I had not thought of that,” Kieri said. He stretched. “And then there's all that mess in Tsaia and Fintha. King Mikeli wants to know if we have magery emerging here … and how would we know, with so much elven blood in the realm?”

“I'm more concerned about those elves showing up in Fin Panir,” Arian said. “That must be where my father came from, so why did they not come here as well?”