Roberson, Jennifer - Cheysuli 07 (30 page)

 
          
"Me,"
Tevis said numbly.

 
          
"A
son out of Ilsa is of Bellam's line.
That
line has more claim than any you can muster… High Crags is, after all, an
isolated mountain domain with geographically limited power." Hart tilted
his head. "If she gives me that son, the factions are undone. But if she
does
not
, then the succession falls
to another. To Blythe, as you well know—through the son she could bear."
Hart smiled. "It will not put you on the throne any more than it would
have put Dar there… but then fathers often gain power through the manipulation
of their children."

 
          
Blythe
was looking at Tevis. Brief hope flickered in Aidan.
If he has lost her with this
…

 
          
Hart's
voice was soft. "If you marry her, you stay here. You give up your claim
on High Crags and become a vassal to
me
."

 
          
Tevis
shut his eyes. Then opened them and quietly knelt before the Prince of Solinde.
"My lord, I have wronged you."

 
          
Hart
smiled. "You underestimated me."

 
          
The
tone was heartfelt. "
Aye
."

 
          
"Ah,
well, I have spent the last twenty-two years of my life being underestimated by
the Solindish. Someday perhaps they will look past the gold I wear—and the hawk
who answers my bidding—and see the man instead."

 
          
"Aye,
my lord. I have no doubt they will… if they have not blinded themselves
completely."

 
          
The
dry irony surprised Aidan. But then it was not in Tevis to be completely
undone; he was, if nothing else, a survivor. For all his thwarted ambitions, he
probably
would
make a loyal vassal.

 
          
And a good example for the others
. Aidan
smiled.
Su'fali, I, too, underestimated
you. Perhaps one day your kin will look past the follies of your youth to the
king you have become
.

 
          
Hart
flicked a hand. "Go. There will be another time for the oath. Take my
daughter and go… I think there are things you have to say to one another—in
private."

 
          
Tevis
wet dry lips and rose, turning to look at Blythe. For a long moment he said nothing.
Then, very quietly, "Will you come?"

 
          
Color
flared in her face. "I am, if nothing else, daughter to my father. Do you
think I would allow you to harm him in any way? Do you think I would let you
dare
?"

 
          
"No,"
he answered quietly. "That I have always known."

 
          
"Then
be reminded of it!" she snapped. Blythe looked at her father, then briefly
at Aidan. Color stained her face: shame, embarrassment; Tevis had been unmasked
before the man most likely to gloat. She glanced back at Tevis. "Indeed, I
will come. And we
will
talk, my lord
of High Crags. About
everything
."

 
          
Aidan
moved aside as Blythe swept out of the chamber. Tevis followed after a brief
bow in Hart's direction. The door thumped closed behind them.

 
          
Hart
looked at his nephew. "I have had him watched from the beginning. The.
reason Dar nearly succeeded was because I did not take him seriously, and
because I did not know what he was doing. This way, Tevis does nothing without
my knowledge."

 
          
"Commendable,
su'fali
."

 
          
Hart
smiled faintly. "But you think I am wasting my daughter when there could
be another man more suited to her… a man more suitable for the throne."

 
          
Aidan
moved to the nearest chair and sat down, sipping at last from the wine Tevis
had given him. He shrugged. "I will have a throne,
su'fali
. Do I need another?"

 
          
Hart
laughed. "The Lion has proved most selfish in the past. I doubt it would
change now."

 
          
In
companionable silence, they took up the Bezat bowl set on the table between
them and began to play. There was nothing to do, but wait.

 
          
Aidan
looked at his uncle, whose bowed head as he studied the game pieces hid much of
his expression.
We wait
, he reflected
apprehensively,
on the future of Solinde
.
And then, as Hart drew from the bowl,
Was
it this difficult for my parents, waiting to see if I would live or die? If the
Lion would have an heir
?

 
          
Hart
turned over the piece. It was blank on either side.

 
          
"Bezat,"
Hart said quietly. "You are dead."

 
          
Aidan
put down the winecup. His taste for the game was gone.

 
          
He
was very nearly asleep when at last the servant came. The hours, as Hart had
promised, were many; it was evening, well past dinner, and they had drunk too
much wine. Aidan did not have a head for so much, and wanted no more than to go
to bed. But Hart had desired company to pass the time, and they had shared the
hours in discussion of all manner of things. Aidan could only remember part of
them.

 
          
He
was jerked into wakefulness as the servant opened the door and murmured
something to Hart, who was less circumspect. The Prince of Solinde leaped to
his feet, moved to buffet Aidan's muzzy head in an excess of joy and emotion,
and told him there was a son.

 
          
"A
son," Aidan echoed dutifully, but by then Hart was gone. "A
son
," he said again, brightening
with comprehension, and pushed himself out of the chair.

 
          
Most
of the family and a few servants gathered in an antechamber near Ilsa's royal
apartments. Tevis waited by a deep casment, leaning into the sill, as if trying
to hide himself in shadow. Blythe, uncharacteristically, was not with him;
instead, she waited nervously by the door even as Aidan entered. Cluna was not
present—probably sleeping out the fever—but Jennet was. She, like Tevis, stood
very quietly out of the way, half lost in the shadows. Her bedrobe was clutched
in two rigid fists.

 
          
Aidan
knew at once. He crossed the chamber to her. "Come," he said gently,
and led her to a chair. She sat down as he asked, then stared blindly at him as
he pulled over a stool for himself. Aidan took her hands into his own.
"Speaking of it will help."

 
          
There
was none of the pert forwardness in her manner he had come to expect. Fair hair
was loose for sleeping, shining palely in candlelight. She wore a white linen
nightrail and rich blue woolen bedrobe, tangled around her ankles. Her hands in
his were cold.

 
          
Jennet
drew in a very deep breath. "I am glad there is a son. A prince for
Solinde."

 
          
Aidan
nodded. "But you believe his coming will make your
jehan
blind to you."

 
          
Jennet's
mouth trembled. "It will." Another breath. "He has Blythe. She
was always his favorite. And now he has a son, and there will be no more room
for Cluna and me."

 
          
"You
have asked him this, of course."

 
          
Blue
eyes widened. "No!"

 
          
He
affected mild surprise. "Then how can you know?"

 
          
"I
just do."

 
          
She
was not Erinnish. There was no
kivarna
in her, only fear and loneliness. Aidan squeezed her hands. "It is better
you do not put words in his mouth or feelings in his heart, unless you know
them for fact. It would hurt him deeply if he knew you felt this way."

 
          
"But—what
if he does?"

 
          
"I
promise you, he does not. On the life of my
lir
,
Jennet—and you know how binding an oath that is."

 
          
Clearly,
she did. But her misery was unabated.

 
          
Aidan
squeezed again. "You yourself are a princess,
meijhana
. You are old enough to understand that a realm needs a
king, and the king an heir to follow. For too long Solinde has been without
that heir. But princesses are important as well. Solinde has need of them
also."

 
          
Jennet's
mouth flattened. "Only because
jehan
can marry us off to men he wants to please."

 
          
The
bitterness far surpassed her years. Aidan looked at her with renewed attention.
"Has someone told you that?"

 
          
She
shrugged. "I heard Blythe say something like to Tevis earlier." Blue
eyes flickered. "She was angry."

 
          
Aidan
did not smile. "Aye, so she was."

 
          
Jennet's
worried expression came back. "I do not understand. Blythe has always
wanted to marry Tevis. From the beginning."

 
          
Aidan
could not help himself. "Does she not anymore?"

 
          
Jennet
shrugged; Blythe was not, at the moment, her concern. "She told him she
would… that between them they had made certain she would have to." She
frowned. "I did not understand that."

 
          
"No,"
Aidan agreed, thinking it was best. "I think you need not worry about such
things yet. And I think, when the time comes, you will have even less to worry
about—I think
no one
could force you
to marry a man you did not wish to." He smiled. "Now, as to the new
prince… I will not lie to you, Jennet. It may
seem
your father has forgotten you at first, in the newness of
having a son, but it will pass. Your
jehan
will never replace you with anyone. He could not; not one else is Jennet."

 
          
She
studied him solemnly, judging the worth of his words. "Do you promise that
on the life of your
lir
?"

 
          
She
was, he thought, a true daughter of royalty, seeking assurances in everything.
He smiled, released her hands, touched her head briefly as he rose. "I
promise."

 
          
Hart
came into the chamber from the adjoining apartments. As he saw them he smiled,
eyes alight. "Solinde has a prince," he announced with quiet pride,
"
and
a healthy queen."

 
          
Jennet
threw herself across the chamber and climbed into his arms as he caught her. He
laughed aloud; so did Jennet. She shed the burgeoning maturity Aidan had seen
and was merely a child again, at peace in her father's arms.

 
          
Aidan
looked at Tevis and found him looking back. The young lord of High Crags wore
an odd expression, and once again Aidan found his feelings masked. The
kivarna
was silent.

 
          
Tevis
smiled. It was a smile of bittersweet defeat; of comprehension and acceptance.
Something glittered in his eyes. A brief, eloquent gesture told Aidan Tevis
fully understood the import of the boy's birth; his hopes for the throne,
through
his
son, were extinguished.
All Blythe could give him now was a nephew, much as he was himself. A royal
nephew, perhaps, but absent from the line of succession.

 
          
Aidan
looked at Blythe. She also watched Tevis, as if judging him even as Aidan did.
Her expression was unreadable.

 
          
Reflexively,
Aidan went into the link to Teel.
Do you
think there may yet be a chance
?