Roberson, Jennifer - Cheysuli 07 (31 page)

 
          
But
then Blythe crossed the chamber to Tevis, who cupped her face in his hand.

 
          
Aidan
sighed.
No
.

 
          
From
Teel there was nothing, who undoubtedly had known.

 
          
«
^
»

 
          
In
three days' time, Hart called for an official naming ceremony. Cheysuli custom
decreed the father must examine the naked infant for physical flaws, after the
ancient ways mandating wholeness in a warrior; then, finding him unblemished,
name him aloud to the gods and those kin assembled.

 
          
But
for the newborn prince there was more: according to Solindish custom there must
be named a second-father, a man bound to keep the child from harm should
anything befall the natural parents. So Hart assembled everyone in a private
audience chamber to appease both halves of the child's heritage.

 
          
Hart,
with Ilsa beside him, stood on a low dais. On a polished perch behind them was
Rael, jet-and-white in sunlight. The infant boy was cradled against his
father's leather-clad chest in strong, dark arms shining with
lir
-gold. Hart had never looked happier,
Aidan thought, as he smiled down into the baby's sleeping face. His pride was
manifest, and yet Aidan wondered if the Cheysuli portion of the ceremony would
bring unexpected anguish. Hart would be required to examine his son for
physical flaws before he could name him, yet he himself was
kinwrecked
, expelled from the clans
because of his missing hand. It was a harsh reality once required in times of
hardship, yet no longer necessary. Brennan had tried to have the custom changed
by appealing to Clan Council, but had failed to sway the men who declared too
many of the old ways already had been lost.

 
          
It is Ilsa who keeps the pain at bay
,
Aidan reflected, gazing at the woman who stood at Hart's left side.

 
          
One
pale, slender hand gently rested on his arm. The trace of fatigue in her face
was tempered by a transcendent joy illuminating her already considerable
beauty. There was an elegance in the woman unmatched by any Aidan had seen. He
was, as always, taken aback by it. Even the glittering jeweled clasps fastening
the coils of pale hair to her head could not compete with the brilliance of her
eyes as she gazed out upon the people called to witness the naming of her son.

 
          
Blythe
stood quietly with Tevis; Cluna, mostly recovered, stood with Jennet. Dulcie
resided in Aidan's arms, though a nursemaid waited nearby to release him from
the duty should the child prove tiresome. For the moment she was fascinated by
the torque around his neck; smiling, Aidan unwound thin fingers from it and
tried to bribe her with a coin so she would not tug quite so firmly.

 
          
Hart
smiled brilliantly at them all. "This child is a child of two realms and
two heritages, and both should be honored. No man should turn his back on any
part of himself, for it is the sum of those parts that makes him what he is. So
we have assembled you today to name this child after the fashion of Solinde
and
Homana, so no gods may be offended,
and no race be overlooked."

 
          
Aidan
glanced at Tevis, standing quietly to one side, and wondered how much it chafed
the young lord of High Crags to see his hopes dashed so publicly. Tevis' face
was expressionless, save for a brightness of his eyes as he looked at his liege
lord and newborn prince. He gave nothing away of his thoughts.

 
          
Hart's
voice jerked Aidan's attention back to the dais. "A Solindish child—and
particularly a royal one—must have a second-father. It is not so different from
the Cheysuli custom of a liege man in Homana, set to ward the Mujhar from
physical threat… a second-father also tends the welfare of the child."

 
          
Hart
settled the infant into the crook of his left arm and carefully peeled back the
linen wrappings, unfolding the child from his cocoon. When he was free of the
wrappings and entirely naked, Hart counted aloud the fingers and toes, looked
into the tiny, flat ears, examined the unfocused eyes and made certain the
small manhood was intact. Then he displayed the child to all of them.

 
          
"Before
the gods of Homana, who are everywhere, I declare this child whole and free of
blemish, acceptable to kin and clan. There is no taint in flesh or blood. By
this naming he becomes a true Cheysuli, destined for a
lir
and loyal service to the prophecy." He drew in a breath
and steadied his voice; even across the chamber, Aidan felt the upsurge of
emotion. "I name this child Owain, son of Hart and Ilsa; now known as
Prince Owain, heir to the throne of Solinde. I do this with the full blessing
of the gods, and can only hope they gift him with a worthy
tahlmorra
." Briefly, he looked at Aidan. "No man may
choose his, and certainly not a child."

 
          
Aidan
turned as the nursemaid came forward and settled Dulcie into her arms. Then he
stepped forward to bow his head in brief homage to Hart. Carefully he took up
Owain's tiny right hand and kissed it. In his heart he murmured the words of a
private kinsman's blessing, wishing health and happiness on the child; aloud he
spoke similar words in the Old Tongue, feeling the weight of two gold links at
his belt as he did so.

 
          
Finished,
he inclined his head once again, made the Cheysuli gesture of
tahlmorra
, and turned to face the
others.

 
          
"This
child is a child of the gods. His
tahlmorra
is theirs to impart; their service is his to perform.
Tahlmorra lujhala mei wiccan, cheysu
. May the gods grant this child
a perfect service to the prophecy of the Firstborn, and to the people of
Solinde, whom one day he will rule."

 
          
He
waited. The expected response came from those who knew it: "
Ru'shalla-tu
." May it be so.

 
          
Aidan
smiled. His part in the ceremony was done. He returned to his place, took
Dulcie back, waited.

 
          
"
Leijhana tu'sai
," Hart said
quietly, eyes aglint, then rewrapped the newly-named Prince Owain. He left one
hand and arm free. "It is a second-father's duty to care for this child,
should something befall the natural parents. It is his duty to raise this child
as his own, treating him as his own, sparing him nothing he would not spare
children of his own body, giving him no more or less than he would give
children of his own body.

 
          
"Upon
reaching manhood the child shall go out of the second-father's house and make
his own. But he will forever honor that man as his true-father—his
jehan
—with all the honor he would also
give to the gods." Hart's face was solemn, but something lurked in his
eyes. "The choosing of a second-father is never undertaken lightly. It is
an honor bestowed a man who has proven himself strong and loyal. It is a mark
of respect and trust, and is never undertaken without the full understanding of
its responsibilities."

 
          
Hart's
eyes rested briefly on Aidan. "A kinsman is often chosen, because there is
like blood flowing in the veins and blood binds a man to another man more
firmly than anything else. But others are honored as well." Hart smiled.
"Tevis, Lord of High Crags."

 
          
Clear
brown eyes widened almost imperceptibly. "My lord."

 
          
"Will
you, as second-father, swear to raise Prince Owain as your own? Will you take
an oath to serve this child as you would serve the Prince of Solinde, and any
child of your body? Will you accept him as your liege lord, caring for his
needs as he requires it, never failing this trust?"

 
          
Tevis,
oddly, was pale. "My lord—you have spoken of a kinsman… what of Prince
Aidan?"

 
          
Hart
did not look at his nephew. "Aidan's
tahlmorra
takes him in another direction. We would have you for our son's
second-father."

 
          
Next
to Tevis, Blythe's face was alight. Aidan understood very well why Hart did as
he did; it was, he thought, very clever. And undoubtedly would prove extremely
fortuitous.

 
          
Tevis
drew a deep, slow breath. "My lord… my lord, I will do anything you
require. It will be my honor to serve Prince Owain as second-father."

 
          
Ilsa's
smile was luminous. "We are honored by your oath."

 
          
Blythe
pressed Tevis' arm. He approached slowly, head bowed in homage. When he stood
before the dais, he knelt so as not to lift his head above that of the infant.

 
          
"Rise,"
Hart said. "Take his hand in yours."

 
          
Dazed,
Tevis rose and reached out for the tiny hand. He stared at the baby's
silk-smooth, fragile skin; the crumpled, sleep-creased face. "I
swear," he said quietly. "I swear to raise you as a child of my own
body. I swear to serve you. I accept you as my liege lord. I will care for your
needs as you require it, and I swear I will never fail your trust." Tevis
bent his head and kissed the tiny hand.

 
          
Blythe,
Aidan saw, had tears in her eyes. Cluna and Jennet were solemn-faced, big-eyed;
they understood full well the gravity of the ceremony. Ilsa, still clasping
Hart's arm, looked on Tevis with great pride shining in her lovely face; Hart
himself wore an expression of many things, not the least of them satisfaction
and a quiet, contented triumph.

 
          
Inwardly,
Aidan laughed.
Oh, aye, su'fali, you know
exactly what you have done
.

 
          
Hart
looked over Tevis' bowed head. His gaze met Aidan's. A new peace entered his
eyes.

 
          
Aidan
nodded acknowledgment.
He has his son…
his future… and his immortality
…

 
          
Tevis
stepped away. He bowed briefly, then returned to Blythe's side. His eyes were
strange. He appeared singularly moved, but Aidan sensed no specific emotion
through the
kivarna
. The gift, as
always, was fickle. It would not be manipulated.

 
          
But
Tevis, as if sensing Aidan's look, turned. For a moment his face was quite
still, and then he smiled a genuine smile.

 
          
Aidan
smiled back blandly, but inwardly he felt a tremendous sense of relief.
Perhaps, after all, he will be content with
this
.

 
          
It
was evening, in Hart's solar. The light was gone from the day, but candles
filled the lack and set the chamber alight. They had succeeded in chasing the
women from the room so they could forget the talk of new babies and turn their
minds to other things, such as good wine, tall tales, and wagering.

 
          
Hart
laughed aloud and leaned forward to scoop the winnings into his already
impressive pile. Tevis swore mildly, counted what he had left, glanced to Aidan
on his left. "Someone will have to stop him, before he robs us all."

 
          
Aidan
grunted. "Not I. You see how little is left to me—
you
have more than I."

 
          
Tevis
looked again at his stack of red-gold Solindish coins. It was much diminished,
but he did have more than Aidan. He nodded to himself, took up his goblet of
wine, drank half down.

 
          
Hart
pointed. "There is that."

 
          
Aidan
put a shielding hand over his heavy topaz ring. "This is my signet
ring."

 
          
"Aye,
well… it never stopped
me
. A man true
to the game does not let such petty things as personal possessions stand in the
way of a good wager."