Dragon Prince 03 - Sunrunner's Fire (41 page)

“What he
should
have done was force Cabar to hand Gevlia over to me! I wouldn’t have found her innocent—is that what you were all afraid of? I don’t dispute that she’s guilty of causing Master Thacri’s death. But Sunrunners are disciplined by the Lord of Goddess Keep. Not the High Prince!”

One vase filled, she started cutting flowers to fit a shorter one. “I don’t think you entirely appreciate the position you and Cabar placed him in.”

“Oh, come now, Sioned. Surely you’re not complaining that you’ve had yet another chance to demonstrate how powerful you and Rohan are!”

She slammed the knife on the table so hard the empty vases rattled. “Lord of Goddess Keep you may be, but it hasn’t taught you much about what power really is!”

“Lord of Goddess Keep chosen by Lady Andrade—who taught all of us about power!” he snapped.

Sioned forced calm into her voice, reminding herself that this was a proud and potentially dangerous man. And still so young—only twenty-nine. “Andry, I was a Sunrunner long before I was a princess. Do you forget that I pleaded with your parents to allow your training as a squire to end so your chosen life as a Sunrunner could begin?”

“And have you come to regret it?” he asked bitterly.

“Don’t be a fool. I don’t always agree with you. I didn’t always agree with Andrade. We all have our own functions, duties, responsibilities—”

“And Rohan has usurped mine!”

“You gave him no choice! Can’t you see that? There can’t be one code for Sunrunners and another for everyone else! The woman’s negligence brought about a man’s death. You yourself admit her guilt. You and Cabar both came to Rohan, agreed to abide by his decision—”

“And he made the wrong one!”

Sioned gritted her teeth in exasperation. “What do you think Cabar would do if Rohan gave her over to you? What would
you
do if Cabar was allowed to decide her punishment? Use your brains, Andry! Rohan’s laws provide the only sure justice. That’s his duty as High Prince.”

Andry met her gaze coldly. “His duty. His laws. His power. Just exactly the way he likes it.”

“You don’t understand him at all, do you?”

“I understand him perfectly. I’ve watched him lead the other princes around by the nose every chance he gets. He loves to exercise his power as High Prince and there’s no use pretending he doesn’t. And he’s as jealous of those powers as—”

“When has Rohan ever acted arbitrarily? When has he ever done anything simply because he felt like it? You’ve watched him at work for two
Riall’im
since Andrade died. You’re right, he uses every trick he has to bring the princes to agreement. But have you ever considered why?”

He shrugged. “It amuses him, I suppose. Very well, Sioned, read me the lecture. I’m a little old for the schoolroom, but we won’t quibble about it.”

She controlled her temper with an effort. “Punishment for crimes—even the definitions of crimes—used to make no sense at all. There were two dozen laws about horse theft and Goddess alone knew how many penalties, depending on whose horse was stolen and what it was worth and how long it was in the thief’s possession—Rohan studied law all his life, and
he
couldn’t follow all the ins and outs of such chaos. His work has been to organize all the confusion. Every
Rialla
he hacks away at it a little more, persuading the other princes to agree to
one
law and
just
punishment. Law is now associated with him. As High Prince it’s his responsibility to arbitrate—”

“And why shouldn’t the laws have his name on them? It’s only the reality.
His
laws, Sioned—
his
power.”

“The duties of the High Prince haven’t changed. Rohan hasn’t done anything Roelstra couldn’t have done if he’d been so inclined. But because Rohan does so much through the law that affects people’s everyday lives, it’s perceived that his power is the greater.”

“It
is
greater. He uses it.”

“That’s exactly what he
doesn’t
do.”

“Then let him prove it. Let him
not
use this so-called right he has over Sunrunners, and give judgment to me, where it belongs.”

Her patience snapped. “Where you’d like
all
power to belong, isn’t that so, Andry? How dare you prate about traditions when you’ve tossed them aside without a thought! How dare you accuse Rohan of grasping for power when it’s
you
who reaches out both hands! Lord of Goddess Keep will never be enough for you, will it? Don’t think I don’t know precisely what you’re up to with your emphasis on the powers of the Goddess and your change in
faradhi
traditions! You’re the one who’s jealous of power, Andry—especially of what will come to Pol when he’s High Prince!”

He turned white, and went as still as stone, not even breathing. Then he sent the vases crashing to the tiled floor with a violent sweep of one hand.

She heard the furious snap of his bootheels as he strode from the great hall, but could not watch him go. Servants came in—silent, hesitant—to clean up shards of glass and pottery. Sioned stared down at her hands. Of all the rings she was entitled to wear, only her husband’s emerald gleamed there.

“Well, beloved,” she whispered, “I made a fine job of that, didn’t I?”

She wiped her hands on a towel and decided she’d better go upstairs and warn Rohan that because of her, Andry was one step away from becoming their open enemy.

 

 

Rohan and Pol were also discussing the ramifications of power—or, rather, Rohan was talking and Pol was listening. The events at Rivenrock and the outcome of the morning audience having been briefly recounted, they sat alone in the Summer Room.

“Nobody’s going to be made happy by this,” Rohan sighed. “It’s what usually happens when I use my authority as High Prince.”

“But there wasn’t anything else you could have done.”

“No. But that’s not how it’s going to be perceived. And perception is all, you know,” he added ruefully. “The scriptorium at New Raetia is a good example. I contracted with several princes for the physical makings—hide for parchment and bindings, ink, and so on—but I
ordered
each prince to provide copyists. It was the only way to reproduce the volumes at speed. I used Desert wealth to buy the materials, but I couldn’t buy the people. So I made it an order of the High Prince. And nobody approved, even though the future advantages ought to have been obvious.”

Pol said, “But by now everyone’s cooperating for the good they get from the library. The same thing will happen with the school for physicians.”

“One hopes so. Still, it’s
my
decision, you see.
My
use of power.
My
name that gets associated with it all.”

“It may take everyone a while to understand, but—”

“Oh, it always takes more than a while. I never deluded myself I could accomplish it all in my lifetime. Laws, in particular. How do you correct such a mess in thirty years? I could’ve decreed things and made the princes bow down to my authority. But I don’t think I would have lasted long if I’d tried. Not even Roelstra attempted to rule all the princedoms by decree.

“Almost everything I’ve done has been through the
Rialla,
slowly enough so no one gets too nervous. I let them thrash out an issue among themselves and mostly they end up agreeing with me. When they don’t, there’s usually something wrong with my reasoning and I have to rethink my position. As often as possible I’ve let them believe the whole thing is
their
idea. But I’m still High Prince. I’m the one whose name goes at the top of the parchment.”

“You’re proud of it, Father, don’t try to fool me,” Pol said with a smile.

“Of course! But that doesn’t change the fact that however much benefit comes from the laws I initiate, however careful I am to bring the other princes into the process, some still think I just wave my hand and say, ‘This shall be done because We order it so!’ ” Rohan laughed shortly. “Goddess, if it were only that easy!”

“You’re more tender of their feelings than they are of yours. And it’s not fair. You’re right almost all the time.”

“Ah, so you’re experienced enough to see that I’ve made mistakes—and impudent enough to throw them in my face!” He laughed more easily this time.

“Oh, there haven’t been that many,” Pol reassured him, grinning. “But it’s a little daunting, you know. And another reason I wouldn’t mind at all if you lived forever. You’re going to be difficult to follow.”

“Did I ever tell you I felt the same about my own father?”

“But you two were so different from each other. You always knew you couldn’t be the kind of prince he was, so you never tried to live up to what he was.
I’ve
always known that to be like you is the best ambition I could have.”

Rohan was absurdly flattered. “Just don’t ever start believing that you’re always right, Pol. I haven’t been—as you so ungraciously pointed out! And you won’t be, either. Listen to the other princes. Know what their prejudices are, where their self-interest lies. Don’t rule them—guide them. If you can’t present an issue in ways that satisfy them, then you’re probably acting in your own favor. And they’ll scent it as quickly as a hungry dragon does fresh game.”

He shifted in his chair and frowned. “Along the way something happened that I never intended. Roelstra projected power through his personality and the art of the well-timed whim—and the equally well-timed art of causing fights that only the High Prince could settle. He didn’t care much about the thoughts of ordinary folk. But what I’ve done touches people’s lives. And now they look to me to effect changes—with my name on them. So it seems I have more power and use it more often than is true.”

“As long as the work gets done, what does that matter?”

“It matters a great deal. A jealous prince—Cabar is a prime example—is a dangerous one. He can make trouble. I took the decision about this Sunrunner out of his hands. He’ll see that as a threat to his power. Wouldn’t you?”

“If I was the suspicious type, certainly.” Pol paused for a moment. “The new school will make it easier for Cabar to swallow.”

“But not for the others. At the
Rialla
this summer I intend to order each prince to contribute at least two physicians for the teaching staff. The benefits won’t become clear for some time, just as with the scriptorium. But this time I intend to have someone else’s name associated with it—yours, if you’re not careful!”

“Mother’s!” Pol laughed. “She was the one who thought of putting it in Gilad to soothe Cabar.”

“Not a bad idea, but she’d never agree. Besides, it wouldn’t do us much good. Everybody knows at least half of my best ideas were hers to begin with. And that when I use ‘we,’ I mean the two of us.” Rohan hoped Pol would consider the advantages of having a wife who shared his work as well as his bed. From what Rohan had seen of Meiglan, she was hardly the type. Yet it suddenly occurred to him that perhaps Pol didn’t want or need that kind of woman.

When Pol spoke, it was of filial and not marital relationships. “When I was little I used to get into all sorts of trouble just to get you and Mother away from your work—”

“You think I need reminding?” Rohan chuckled. “After you left for Graypearl we’d get a whole season’s work done in a single day—and then sit staring at each other, cursing the quiet.”

Pol smiled. “I guess I did demand a lot of attention. And you always gave it to me. But when you and Mother disappeared into your study, I wanted to be there, too. Have you talk to me the way you talked to each other, about important things. Oh, I was far too young to understand any of it, but—do you know what I mean?”

“My father kept me wrapped in silk until I was eighteen years old. I do understand, Pol. When you grow up around powerful people, it’s only natural to want to be in on it. It’s not until you’re older that you realize the responsibilities.”

“Andry would say it’s the gift of the Goddess. He seems to find that justification enough for all the changes he’s made.”

Rohan shrugged. “I don’t presume to know the Goddess’ mind on this.”

“Ask Andry. He seems to have her ear these days.”

“Belief is becoming less personal and more public, isn’t it? Ostentatious, as Barig said this morning. If Andry has his way, the gentle and very comfortable relationship we have with the Lady is going to change. I find that sad, Pol.”

“These long speeches of Andry’s worry me. It’s as if he’s emphasizing his own importance by emphasizing the name of the Goddess. Connecting himself to her.”

“Giving a perception of greater power than he in fact possesses?” Rohan shrugged. “Perhaps strength is justification enough for use of power. After all, if you’ve got it, why not use it?” He was pleased to see Pol grimace.

“If that’s so, may the Goddess have mercy on us all.”

“I agree.” Rohan stretched the tension from his shoulders and sighed. “By now power is expected of me. I don’t think I’ll be disappointing anyone this time. Not even you,” he added.

Pol cleared his throat. “I know I’ve said some harsh things in the past. I understand why you wait, Father, I just haven’t learned your patience yet.”

“Mine was a hard school. Your mother and I have tried to make yours a little easier without sacrificing the most important lessons. And this is one. Few people really understand the limits I impose on myself.”

“My own limits are what I’m trying to define,” Pol said seriously. “I wanted to talk about—well, I don’t think you’re going to approve, but—”

He broke off as they heard Arlis’ adamant voice from the other side of the door. “I’m sorry, my lord, but it’s impossible. His grace is—”

“I don’t give a damn if he’s making love to his wife!” Barig roared. The door was flung open. Arlis tried to block the furious Giladan, saying, “Forgive me, your graces, but—”

“Do you know what’s happened?” Barig waved a parchment from which a ribbon and a broken seal hung. “Do you?”