Land of Night (16 page)

Liall could not blame them. After all, he would have been king in Cestimir's place if fate had been kinder. Or crueler, depending on how one saw the matter.

The Baron of Tebet—Ressanda by name, a bearded, heavy-set man with a blunt manner—sat with his pretty daughter Ressilka at his side, as unlike her as moon to sun. The presence of such a young woman in a Baron's council was unusual, but Liall understood Ressanda meant for her to inherit his title, so none objected. In Rshan, one did not necessarily inherit by gender. The young girl was lovely, tall and slender, with golden hair that held just a hint of strawberry. She was also obviously intelligent, watching every inhabitant of the great hall with solemn, discerning eyes, and Liall foresaw a great stir at court with her at its center.

She saw the prince looking at her. Instead of lowering her blue-painted eyes, she blinked slowly and held Liall's gaze, seeming in no particular hurry to look away. Liall was distracted when Cestimir, seated at his right hand, slid him a scrap of paper. He broke eye-contact with the fetching young woman to look at it.

Pretty?

Cestimir was looking at his brother unsmilingly, and Liall sensed a ripple of displeasure coming from the boy. He crumpled the paper in his fingers and reached for a pen, dipping it in the pot of ink to scrawl his own message back.

Cestimir looked down at the little flame-flower Liall had drawn and hid a smile as he deftly crumpled the paper in his fingers.

Baron Ressanda stood heavily—he was a great, barrel-chested man with a shock of pale and unruly, red-gold hair—and bowed his head to Liall. “Prince Nazheradei,” he began “I know tempers are short and we all grow weary of this long debate, but I must ask: provided the barons rule to support Cestimir's claim, when would he be ready to ascend the throne?"

Liall glanced to Cestimir. As his advocate, he was positioned in the center of the long, raised table that overlooked the hall. Cestimir's young face was tranquil, a small-half smile arranged on his features and one still hand poised on the table: perfect, princely composure, and it had not wavered for over two hours.

"In truth,” Liall said, looking at Cestimir, “he is almost ready now."

Cestimir's eyes flickered with mild surprise, and Liall wondered if any had given him cause to doubt his brother's confidence. “I cannot predict the future,” he went on, “but I see no reason why he could not inherit before his twentieth year."

A murmur of satisfaction moved through the barons, and many nodded as if they had settled something in their minds. They needed a timetable to decide which way to follow the wind. There had never been a great deal of support for Vladei, and none loved him. Yet, change and uncertainty foments unrest and Vladei could still play that to his advantage, if he dared.

Many barons were stirring and there was a sense of finality in the way some gathered up their papers and shifted their hapcoats. Liall took the chance to end it on a good note.

"We will adjourn for the evening,” he announced, and gave the hall a pleasant smile. “Prince Cestimir extends his gratitude for your attendance.” He bowed to the hall and was relieved that Cestimir stood and bowed with him. Nadiushka had trained the boy well.

"Stay but a moment, Nazheradei!"

The voice that rang out was calm, controlled, and haughty. It was the voice of a prince. Vladei rose from his seat, resplendent in gold and red, his House colors.

We look so much alike, he and I, Liall thought. Almost, I can look at him and see Nadei.

Almost, until Vladei opened his mouth and any pity Liall might have had for him vanished.

"Princes of Druz,” he said, addressing both Liall and Cestimir at once. He made a show of a bow, a little thing so deftly tossed that none could mistake it for obeisance. “If we are to be ruled by an untried boy, a youth who has not once spoken at the Council of Barons or made his voice heard at any meeting of the Moot Lords, might we at least know his mind in
some
matters?"

Liall wondered what Vladei was getting at, and held up his hand when Cestimir would have answered the older prince. “Be plain, Vladei. What is it you want to know?"

"Only that which is most important to Rshan; whether or not we are safe in this
boy's
hands.” Vladei drew himself up to his full height and pitched his voice to its full power, full of subtlety and nuance, silken in its persuasion. “The Barony of Uzna Minor houses one of our most sacred shrines to our ancestors. In grandeur, it is surpassed only by Nauhin. In the hearts of our people, only Fanorl—the oldest of our dwelling-places, the very birthplace of the Shining Ones—stands higher in esteem. Uzna Minor is my charge. What she stands for is mine to protect, and only death can relieve me of that duty. What I would hear from this prince is this; will he honor what our ancestors intended for their sons and daughters? Will our lands remain sacred and apart, or are we—like every other land of Nemerl—to be infiltrated by foreign influence until the very memory of our culture is destroyed?"

"Yes,” called out a man in red. He had a voice like a horn and Liall recalled that he was some captain of Vladei's. “This we must know. Will our most sacred laws be safe? Let the silent prince tell us!"

Cestimir flinched and Liall made his expression amused.

"These laws you speak of have not been questioned by any ruler since Ramung's time. And, I remind you, Vladei, that Ramung the Usurper was your ancestor, not Cestimir's. Why do you believe that my brother would threaten our legacy?"

"You give me reason,” Vladei said meaningfully, pointing at Liall. “Is it not our law that no lenilyn may set foot on the mainland? Even those Arbyssian captains who we trade most closely with have never been allowed closer than the island of Sul-na. Yet, you, Nazheradei, have brought a Hilurin to our very court.” Vladei turned to address the barons, walking up and down in front of the tables. “And I hear our Crown Prince is quite taken with this outlander. Who knows what lenilyn filth that creature has polluted the boy with?” He stopped in front of Baron Ressanda and looked down, clasping his hands behind his back. “Who knows why the lenilyn was sent here, or to what purpose?"

"He was not sent here,” Liall grated out, controlling his temper. “I brought him with me, and even that was not intentional. He was to be put ashore in Morturii, but he fell ill and could not be left alone. By the time he had recovered, it was too late to turn back."

"He appeared to fall ill,” Vladei countered, as quick of tongue as ever. “How do you know his illness was not feigned, so that you would have to bring him here where he could get close to the throne? For what purpose? To bring it down! How do we know he is not an assassin?"

Liall hid a laugh behind a cough. “Pardon me, Vladei, perhaps you have not met ser Keriss.” He placed his hand below his shoulder to approximate Scarlet's height. “He can be fearsome when roused, but as long as you keep a civil tongue in your head and your hands to yourself, you will be safe enough in his presence."

A titter of laughter chased around the room. From the corner of his eye, Liall saw Lady Ressilka smiling and whispering something aside to her father. Apparently, she had as little love for Vladei as for Shikhoza.

Vladei gritted his teeth, and Liall wondered at the man's anger. It took Liall a moment to comprehend that Vladei actually believed what he was saying, and he was shocked. He wondered how a man as educated as Vladei could see menace in someone like Scarlet, simply because of the color of his skin.

"This bigotry does not become you, Vladei,” Liall said. “Keriss has a gentle spirit. He would never harm anyone, save to preserve his own life."

"Gentle spirit.” Vladei smiled thinly through his anger. “So gentle that one mariner aboard the Ostre Sul is disfigured for life, and three others suffered harm at his hands."

"Only after he nearly suffered rape at theirs,” Liall shot back, but he was worried that Vladei apparently knew so much about the events that occurred during the voyage from Volkovoi. That alone told Liall whose hand had been behind the bravos at the port and the pirate attack at sea. “And it was Oleksei who scarred ser Keriss's face as well. For that alone I should have killed him."

"And how do we know even that is true?” Vladei said. “The mariners denied it."

"I saw them at it with my own eyes. Now, Vladei, call
me
a liar."

Vladei bowed only enough to deflect the challenge, again giving the Druz princes that trifling gesture that said anything but politeness. “I would not insult you so."

"But you will insult my t'aishka quickly enough."

Again, the red-garbed man with the loud voice stepped forward. “He's only saying what everyone is thinking."

Liall decided he had had enough of him. “Everyone, or merely the mercenaries in his pay?"

The red man subsided and cast his eyes to the floor. Vladei could look for no further help from there. It alarmed Liall to see a powerful man like Vladei so hostile to Scarlet. Vladei was a determined man with great intelligence, which meant he would make a formidable enemy.

We were close once, Liall thought. There must be some way I can reach him.

"Vladei,” Liall began, stretching out his hand in a gesture of friendship.

Vladei turned on his heel and pushed past the barons in the hall, leaving a stir of whispers behind him.

Liall sighed and Cestimir shot him an apologetic look. As the barons and their attendants filed out, Cestimir helped Liall to gather the papers he had scattered about the table.

"I have never been a neat scribe,” Liall said.

"They like you,” Cestimir mused, nodding towards the retreating barons. “And at least one of them likes looking at you,” he added, flashing a smile.

He is an astute one, this unknown brother of mine, Liall thought.

Cestimir was young, but not frivolous, and with that aura of seriousness and devotion to duty that reminded Liall of Nadiushka. Yet, as Liall saw from the flash of his teeth and the wicked gleam in his eyes when he smiled, there was still a streak of mischievous youth in Cestimir.

"As a novelty, perhaps. Like an heirloom that everyone talks about,” Liall said, hoping to deflect any ideas Cestimir might be harboring that Liall found Ressilka desirable, or vice versa. “But you are their heir. They have high hopes for you."

"But they respect you, which is a rare thing. You seem to have won them over, which brings me to a point I did not raise earlier: You are the Blood Prince of Rshan, the only one alive with a right to the throne that none could doubt. Why do you not simply claim it and end this uncertainty?"

Liall froze. “Never. I will never claim the throne of Rshan."

Cestimir gave a sigh and looked suddenly depressed. “And why would you? Why would anyone? Even now, as we speak, Khatai Jarek has taken a battlefield to the north. She carries my name on her banner. To many of my people, that name will mean death. That is not what I would have chosen, but it is what I must do if I am to keep what my ancestors have passed down to me in trust.” He held his hand out to the last members of the hall as if offering them a plate. “They would all want to be king. Do you know what it means to be king, my brother?"

Liall did, but he kept silent. He had also not known about Jarek winning the field in Magur, but she was Cestimir's general, not his. It made him worry: the more defeats Vladei received, the more desperate he would become.

"It means being born with the power to do whatever you want, but none of the freedom. I will never see the kingdom of Minh or the high mountains of Morturii. I can't even go on a sleigh ride when I feel like it. I am hemmed in here, and I will be a prisoner of my crown until I grow old and die or someone kills me.” Cestimir shrugged. “So I take small pleasures when I can: my books, racing my horses, eavesdropping on the court, which is sometimes better than watching a horse race. You are the same. I've seen you with your t'aishka. I've heard of the small things you seek out for him, the Byzan music for example."

"Cestimir..."

"No,” he said, shaking his head. “Don't feel sorry for me. Tell me about the music."

"It was more difficult than I thought,” Liall said, honoring his wish. “There are no Hilurin musicians here. In Byzantur, Hilurin families are what we would call virtuous: very proper and chaste. The only Byzan music I could find was erotic love songs and street ditties that would not be sung in public."

Cestimir was silent for a moment. “Ser Keriss is this way? Virtuous and proper?"

"Yes. I had a devil of a time even getting a kiss for months,” Liall grinned, saving that story for another time.

"Oh,” was all Cestimir said.

Now Liall was curious. “What?"

Cestimir looked embarrassed. “It just makes my first words to him all that more insulting,” he said apologetically. “When Keriss and I first spoke, I insinuated that he was a paid lover."

"Then it is a wonder you do not have two black eyes.” Liall was amused that Cestimir used the more polite term rather than whore. “Why did you say that?"

"I don't know. Perhaps because I was angry at you. You've been away all my life, but ever since I could remember, I've heard stories about you and I've wanted to meet you. Finally you came, but you had no time for me."

"Oh, Cestimir,” Liall said, greatly ashamed. “I never meant—"

"The little pleasures,” Cestimir interrupted, as if Liall had not spoken.

Cestimir was turning the subject, but it took Liall a moment to realize he meant the music, or perhaps more than that. He could not tell. Cestimir was at turns subtle and direct, and Liall mused that his brother would be a ruler that many trusted, but few understood.

"They are all that a king can really expect in life,” Cestimir continued. “Keriss wants to go on a sleigh ride, did you know? I've promised him an excursion in my new one."

"When it can be arranged,” Liall said, not wanting to forbid it, but the thought of Scarlet and Cestimir alone, outside the palace, made his heart beat faster. Assassins live in hope of just such an opportunity.

Cestimir sighed, knowing the adventure had been put off. “If you ever leave Rshan, I will long to go with you."