Roberson, Jennifer - Cheysuli 07 (29 page)

 
          
"Do
you think I care about Homanan history? Cheysuli history?" Tevis stepped
close. His hand gripped the knife.

 
          
"By
all the gods of Solinde, shapechanger, what do you think I am? A young boy
content to sit in silence while his homeland is given over to the usurper? We
are not so different as that, shapechanger blood or no… I know you well enough
to say with complete conviction that you would do the same."

 
          
Aidan
thought it best to ignore the latter, since he was grimly aware how closely
Tevis came to the truth. Instead, he focused on what he knew to be patently
false. "It was hardly usurped, Solindish. Carillon won it in battle. It
was his to bequeath as he wished, and it was to
my
kin it came. Solinde is ours, now."

 
          
"Mine,"
Tevis said flatly. "Or, more like, my son's." He smiled as he saw Aidan's
start. "What—did you think I meant to do murder? Do you think I want
Blythe merely to serve my own ends? No, shapechanger… I want Blythe for
Blythe's sake,
and
for the sake of
Solinde. The throne is not meant to be mine—I honor my ancestor-kings too much
to count
myself
worthy of it—but if
the shapechanger gets no son on the queen, then the task falls to me.
I
will sire the heir… and in my
lifetime, if not Dar's, I will see a High Crags man on the throne."

 
          
Aidan
held Dulcie more tightly as she squirmed. "And if the queen bears a son?
What then, Tevis? Your plan is in disarray."

 
          
Lips
parted as if Tevis intended a blistering retort. But instead he smiled. It was
a crooked, twisted smile, altering his intensity into rueful acknowledgment.
"If there is a son born to Ilsa, then my hopes are vanquished. AH my
ambitions fail." His eyes did not waver. "My lord of Homana, I am
neither a fool, nor ignorant. I want what is best for Solinde. So did Dar, even
if he was unfortunate enough to go about it the wrong way—"

 
          
Aidan's
tone was vicious. "He cut off my uncle's hand and then gave him to the
Ihlini. To Strahan himself, who nearly destroyed him."

 
          
Tevis
gestured acknowledgment. "Aye, well… that was Dar. I have been told he was
impetuous and obsessed—"

 
          
"And
you are not?"

 
          
Muscles
flexed briefly in Tevis's face. "I mean no harm to you, or to the man who
calls himself Prince of Solinde. There is such a thing as a peaceful
revolution, my lord… if I marry Blythe and sire a son, the revolution is
accomplished without bloodshed.
That
is how I fight."

 
          
Aidan
shifted Dulcie against his shoulder, focus fragmented by her presence and her
pettish discomfort. She wanted her father, not him; Aidan did not blame her.

 
          
He
sighed. "Then you fight more wisely than your kinsman."

 
          
Tevis
smiled faintly. "Then perhaps I will succeed where he failed."

 
          
Resentment
boiled up. Aidan wanted to hit him. He did not. "Did you come here for
this? Did you come down from your mountain fastness to seduce a king's
daughter?"

 
          
And
realized, as he asked it, he might ask it of himself, while changing the words
a little. It had all been so simple: he would go to Solinde, setting aside the
desperation, and find himself a wife. It would satisfy everything: rank, title,
body, even the need for escape.

 
          
But
there was Tevis to be faced. "Did you?" he repeated, more intensely
than before. Now it applied to them both.

 
          
Tevis
turned his back. Fluidly he swung up into the saddle, then looked down on
Aidan. "The seduction was accomplished long before I came. It was done in
writing, my lord of Homana… a courtship between two mothers desiring the best
for their eldest children. They made it easy for me… I saw my chance, and I
took it. Only a fool would have refused."

 
          
Aidan
felt impotent. "If Blythe suffers for tins—"

 
          
Tevis
gathered reins, then bent to catch Cluna's horse. "She will not," he
said flatly. "I am a patriot, Homanan… a loyal Solindishman. But I am also
a
man
. What man, looking at her,
would ever want to hurt her? What man, sharing her bed, would want to drive her
from it?"

 
          
Aidan
could offer no answer. Holding Dulcie, bereft of speech, he watched Tevis ride
away towing Cluna's horse behind him.

 
          
When
he was gone, Aidan sighed and pressed a cheek against Dulcie's head. "Oh,
Dulcie-meijhana
, what do we do
now?"

 
          
Overhead,
Teel croaked.
Go back to the castle
,
he said.
There is nothing
to
do, here
.

 
          
Disgruntled,
Aidan went to his horse and mounted, taking extra care with Dulcie. Then he
turned back toward Lestra.

 
          
There
was nothing
to
do, here. But plenty
to do, there.

 
          
«
^
»

 
          
Aidan
found the castle in an uproar when he rode in with Dulcie. He believed at first
it was because of Cluna; he discovered almost at once Ilsa was in labor.

 
          
A
nursemaid came immediately for Dulcie, releasing him from his unexpected duty.
The girl was glad to go, but not before she latched onto a handful of ruddy
hair and tugged; Aidan, wincing, carefully peeled fingers away and freed
himself, then bent and kissed Dulcie briefly on the forehead.

 
          
The
nursemaid, smiling, told him he was to go at once to the prince's private
solar, where the rest of the family gathered. Aidan took his leave, giving Teel
his freedom to do as he wished, and went to find the others.

 
          
Hart
was in a chair, perched stiffly on the edge with braced legs spread, elbows
resting on thighs. Absently he massaged the skin of his forearm at the edge of
the leather cuff. He hardly glanced up as Aidan entered. His dark Cheysuli face
was taut and biscut-gray.

 
          
"What
of Cluna?" Aidan asked. Only Blythe, Hart, and Tevis were present.

 
          
Hart
shifted slightly. "In bed. The healing is done. There is a slight fever,
but it will pass."

 
          
Aidan
closed the door. Though he asked the question of Hart, he looked directly at
Tevis. "And the queen?"

 
          
Tevis,
seated with Blythe standing next to him, said nothing.

 
          
Hart
abruptly thrust himself deep into the chair, stretching one side of his face
out of shape as he scrubbed at it one-handed. "It will be hours, always
hours. Blythe was an easy birth—" He glanced briefly at his eldest,
smiling absently, then shifted in the chair as if he could find no favored
position, "—but the others have been more difficult."

 
          
Quietly,
Tevis unwound himself from his chair and leaned forward to pour wine. He rose,
brought the cup to Aidan, handed it to him. He said nothing, but his gaze was
direct and unwavering.

 
          
He wonders if I will say anything to Hart
.
Aidan accepted the cup. "
Leijhana
tu'sai
."

 
          
If
Tevis understood the Old Tongue, he made no indication. He merely waited.

 
          
Inwardly,
Aidan sighed. Much as he disliked the situation, he saw no reason to add to
Hart's concerns at the moment. Imperceptibly, he shook his head at Tevis. Once
more he surrendered the war.

 
          
Something
indefinable entered clear brown eyes. For a moment there was a reassessment,
then an odd respect. Tevis smiled faintly. The sunlight slanting through the
casements fell fully on his face, limning good bones and fine skin, shining in
thick dark hair. He would, Aidan thought, sire handsome sons; the daughters,
with Blythe as mother, would be beautiful.

 
          
As
imperceptibly, Tevis inclined his head in thanks. Then abruptly swung on his
heel and went directly to Hart. "My lord, there is something I must
say."

 
          
Aidan,
frowning, watched him closely. He heard the subtle deference in the High Crags
dialect. He had never heard it before. Tevis was, he realized, a man of
eloquent charm. Aidan began to believe he was capable of anything.

 
          
Hart
merely glanced at him in distraction. "Let it wait."

 
          
"No,
my lord. It cannot."

 
          
"Tevis?"
Even Blythe was nonplussed.

 
          
He
lifted a silencing finger without looking at her. His eyes were locked on Hart.
"My lord, I must admit to you I have not been the man you believed I was.
And while it is quite true I love and honor your daughter and wish only to make
her happy, there is something more. I will not lie any longer."

 
          
Aidan
stood very still.
He plays a dangerous
game
.

 
          
Hart's
eyes were steady as he looked into the taut face. "You mean to tell me you
covet the throne of Solinde."

 
          
Color
drained from Tevis. "My lord… you knew—?"

 
          
From
Blythe, a blurt of shock.

 
          
Hart
merely shrugged. "I have known it for some time." He glanced briefly
at Aidan, then straightened in the chair. His voice was perfectly even. "You
are not the first, and will not be the last. I have three other
daughters."

 
          
"My
lord—if you
knew—
?"

 
          
"—why
did I allow you to remain?" Hart looked at Blythe. "Because my
daughter loves you. And you, in your way, love her. What sense is there in
ending something desired by you both, merely because you are ambitious?"

 
          
Tevis
smoothed the velvet of his doublet over one arm. "Even if those ambitions
could threaten your sovereignty?"

 
          
Hart
stroked his bottom lip with a finger, contemplating the young man standing
before him. Eventually, he smiled. "When you are young, it is quite easy
to believe in personal convictions. It is quite easy to be completely committed
to a thing, as you are to Solinde. A zealot blinds himself, as he must, in
order to succeed. But in that blinding, he cuts off a part of himself that
makes the difference between success and failure."

 
          
"My
lord—?"

 
          
Hart
smiled. "The key to your strength lies in my daughter. But if you should
come against me, she will turn on you. And you will then have nothing, even as
Dar did." He paused delicately. "With the same result."

 
          
Blythe's
face was white. Tevis said nothing.

 
          
Hart
smiled again. "You can have what you want
without
forcing the issue… if the queen bears me no son."

 
          
Tevis
still said nothing.

 
          
Hart
sighed. "Do you think I want Solinde to stay mired in internal bickering?
I know very well there are still factions who desire me ousted, and who might
turn to violence to accomplish it. Executing Dar of High Crags—a known traitor—silenced
his followers for a time, but it will not last forever. The peace of this realm
rests entirely with Ilsa—unless it rests with you."