The Heirs of Hammerfell (28 page)

"Are you planning to murder your host, then?" Conn snarled sarcastically. "I don't know what the custom is in the city, but here that sort of behavior is frowned upon."

"No, of course I don't―" Alastair shot back, as Gavin sat up in his bedroll by the hearth and groaned.

"What are you two fighting about now?" He raked his fingers through his hair, which was straying in all directions at once. "What time is it anyway? It's barely daylight out!"

"Conn is accusing me of a plot to murder Lord Storn," Alastair replied. "Pretty cheeky for my little brother."

"You certainly seem ready enough to forget your pledge to Floria," Conn pointed out,

"so how can you expect me to understand the delicate shades of your definition of honor?"

But Alastair, rather than rise to the bait, sat thinking for a moment, and then said wonderingly, "The fact is that I am not pledged to Floria. I am sorry for

Queen Antonella's illness, but because of her sudden affliction, the handfasting did not actually take place―"

Conn said just as thoughtfully, "And of the guests there that, night, how many knew to which of us Fiona was to be pledged?"

Gavin looked amused, as if he knew something they did not. "And it's such a

wonderfully traditional ending to a feud, for the two families to join together in marriage―I assume, Alastair, that you do wish to marry Lady Storn―the damisela

Lenisa, that is?" Alastair nodded, and Gavin continued, "and if Conn wishes to marry Floria, I doubt if your mother will mind, since she will still have Floria as a daughter, so all you have to do is persuade Lord Edric . . ."

"And Floria," Conn interjected, "unless you think she's a bargaining counter to be traded about at her father's whim."

"Yes, of course," Gavin agreed. "You should both speak to Floria, but I am certain that she will "agree to do her part in ending this dreadful feud. After all, if she married Alastair and the feud continued, she'd be losing her children to it. But will Storn give his consent?"

Alastair shrugged. "We shall simply have to ask him and find out," he said, as the door to the room was opened.

"Ask me what?" Lord Storn stood in the doorway. Although no one answered him out loud, he seemed to have heard the answer anyway.

Does he have laran? Conn wondered.

"Of course I do, boy," Storn replied. "The Storns have always had it. Don't the Hammerfells? He did not wait for either of them to answer. "So you want

to marry my grandniece, do you" he said, turning to Alastair. "First, why don't you tell me about your promised wife, the one who's staying in the village with your mother."

"Domna Floria," Alastair said slowly. "Well, you see, sir, our families are friends, and I've known her since we were children, so when she was proposed to me as a bride, I thought myself lucky. She's a lovely girl. But then I met Lenisa, and―now I have fallen in love with her."

"Have you?" Lord Storn said consideringly. "That's all very well for the first few months, young man, but after that what keeps you together? I don't hold with all this nonsense about love and romance; never have, never will. A suitable marriage arranged by your parents has a much better chance of success; that way you don't have unrealistic expectations." He scowled. "Still, Lenisa has to marry―unless I'm prepared to let my blood die out altogether, which I am not. Aldaran of Scathfell wants her for his brother, but I'm not sure . . . I'll think about it, boy, I'll think about it."

He looked at Gavin, who was still sitting on the bedroll beside the fire. "I don't believe I've met you." Gavin rose hastily to his feet as Alastair performed the introductions. "So you're the Hastur king's cousin, are you?"

"Only by marriage, sir," Gavin said respectfully.

"And you're proposing to lure him up here to talk to us all?"

"If you agree, sir," Gavin said. "I wouldn't wish to bring King Aidan into any danger."

"Always danger here in the hills," Storn snorted. "If the feuds are quiet, and the bandits aren't raiding, it's the Aldarans, out to extend their territory. Bui I'll give you my word, your king is in no danger From me; I'll be happy to talk things over with him if he wishes." He scowled down at the bedroll. "Is this the best my household can provide For guests?" He stalked to the door and yelled. "Lenisa!" The echoes of his voice in the hall were Followed by running Footsteps as Lenisa came to answer him.

"Yes, Grandfather?"

He pointed an accusing finger at the bedroll. "Is that the best you can do For a guest?

Have another chamber prepared For Dom Gavin, and one For Lady Hammerfell and her

ward."

"Mother and Floria are coming here?" Conn gasped.

"With both of you under my roof why should they not be here as well?" Storn demanded. "Surely you don't think a peasant's hut the place to house your mother and your promised wife:―or Alastair's promised wife―or whoever's promised wife she is!

And I hardly think Hammerfell Castle is in any shape to house them. I have called them here myself."

Alastair glared Conn to silence. "Indeed, sir, we are most grateful For your hospitality."

Conn hoped that Lord Storn did not hear his mental addition. Especially since it's due to you that we have need of it.

IF he did, however, he didn't show it. He merely said, "Since we appear to have a lot to discuss, we might as well do it in comfort. I've had quite enough of being out in the snow for the time being. Come, girl," he turned to Lenisa. "We'd best prepare to receive our guests."

"Is walking the boundaries that bad?" Alastair asked, and Conn realized that he knew nothing of the latest

burning. When Lord Storn had left the room, he told his brother about it, thinking, Perhaps it will be for the best for Alastair to marry Lenisa. At least she knows the customs of the Hellers, and can persuade him to follow them.

"But do you really think our mother and Floria will be safe here?" Conn asked, as he finished his story.

"Don't worry about Floria," Alastair said unconcernedly. "She's not part of this feud."

"Domna Erminie should be safe enough," Gavin said, "King Aidan knows we're here, and would never stand for us to be harmed―I think we needn't worry."

That successfully silenced both twins; they knew no more powerful protector than the Hastur king.

Conn returned to the village at the ruined gates of Hammerfell and spent the morning exercising the horse that Alastair had ridden so long and hard. In the afternoon he escorted Ermine and Floria to Storn Heights. He was relieved to see that Erminie

seemed at once to like Lenisa; it would have greatly complicated things if for some reason his mother had taken a dislike to her. He hardly dared to speak to or look at Floria; the idea that he might actually be free to marry her was almost more than he could take in. Indeed, the conference after dinner was a model of harmony. Lenisa must have had a long talk with Lord Storn, Conn thought with amusement. He seems much

more agreeable to her marrying Alastair than he did this morning. And Floria had

obviously noticed something, for she sat next to Conn at dinner and assumed a rather proprietary attitude toward him. Conn was riot surprised to find that he liked it, although he

wondered if he had Gavin to thank for her obvious change in attitude. What had Gavin told her about this morning's discussion?

This question, at least, was quickly answered. When they sat down in the solar with their mulled wine, it was Floria who opened the conversation in a direct and frank manner. "I understand, Alastair, that you do not wish to marry me."

Alastair gulped and looked uneasy. Even in Thendara, they cannot teach a graceful and courteous way to jilt your betrothed, Conn thought with some amusement, for all their elegant lowland etiquette.

"I have and always will have the greatest respect for you, dear cousin―" Alastair began,

"but―"

"It's all right, Alastair," Floria said gently. "I'm willing to release you from the betrothal, which, after all, was never made formal. I simply wanted to have it made plain to eve. ?

ne that this is what we both want."

"Both?" Alastair said lightly. "Am I to have you for a sister, then?" Everyone looked at Conn.

"Yes," Conn said buoyantly, "if the lady wishes it, nothing would make me happier."

Floria put out her hand and took his, smiling brilliantly. "Nothing would make me happier, either."

"And I suppose that now you expect me to consent to my grandniece becoming Duchess of Hammer-fell," Storn growled, obviously having a bit of trouble articulating the words.

"I would certainly prefer to marry her with your consent, sir," Alastair said politely.

"And without it? Are you saying you'll marry her whether I give it or not? Is that what you're saying?"

Storn turned to glare at Erminie. "A fine son you've raised, my lady! What do you think of all this?"

Erminie looked briefly at her hands, clasped in her lap, then lifted her head and looked Storn in the eye. "My lord," she said sweetly, "it seems to me that this feud has gone on for too many generations, and all those who began it are dead. I've lost my childhood playmate and my husband both to it, and for many years, I believed I had lost one of my young sons as well. You've lost all of your kin save Lenisa. Haven't there been enough deaths―both your people and mine? Whatever the original offenses may have been,

surely by now we've shed enough blood between us to wash clean all the Hundred Kingdoms! If my son wishes to marry your grandniece, I rejoice at the chance to bury this old feud forever, I swear Lenisa will be as a daughter to me, and I give them my blessing. 1

implore you to Ho the same, my lord."

"And my alternative, I suppose," Storn said with the appearance of bitterness―but his eyes twinkled, "is to be the ogre of the piece; to refuse and let you go and raise up a rabble against me, and then the Hastur king will come with his army, and there will be burning and destruction all over both our lands― and then when I die you'll take the girl anyway, assuming you both survive the fighting."

"Put like that, sir," Gavin said quietly, "it doesn't sound like much of an alternative. But must you put it that way? Can't you think of it as a chance to be the hero who brings an end to all this fighting?"

Lord Storn scowled. "That doesn't sound like much of an alternative either. My own father'd be turning over in his grave. Well, he didn't live his life for my

good pleasure, I see no reason I should live my life for his. 1 don't approve of love matches, myself; but here you are, lady, to speak for your son, and I have lo give my great-niece to somebody, I suppose. Very well, girl," he addressed Lenisa, "if you want to marry him, then I won't be the one to stand in your way. Better to make Storn and Hammerfell one kingdom than lose both to Aldaran. You do want to?" he glared at her with his fierce eyes. "You're not just going along with this because you think it's romantic, or some such rubbish? Well, marry him, then, if it suits you."

"Oh, thank you, Grandfather," she cried, hugging him.

Alastair rose and extended his hand. "Thank you, sir." He swallowed hard. "I can't tell m how grateful I am. May we name our first son after you?" Alastair blushed furiously but stood firm.

"Ardrin of Hammerfell? My great-grandfather would be doing handsprings in his grave, but―well, yes, if you like." Storn tried not to look pleased. He took Alastair's hand briefly. "But mind that you always treat her well, young man; even when this first infatuation wears off, always remember that she is your wife―and, the Gods willing, mother of your children."

"I promise you that, my lord―Great-uncle," Alastair said fervently. It was obvious that Alastair didn't believe he would ever feel differently about Lenisa, and Erminie was looking indignant, but at least the fact that he'd said it seemed to make Lord Storn feel a bit better about the whole business.

"Well, that's settled," he said. "I suppose you'd better send word to that king of yours about it. You

can tell him I offer him hospitality―but I've only got room for thirty or so of his guards in the barracks and I can't ask my people to accept strange lowland-ers quartered on them, with all else they've got to bear these days; mind you tell him that, young man," he admonished Gavin.

Gavin nodded, settled deeper in his chair and closed his eyes.

"Doesn't he need his matrix?" Lord Storn muttered.

"Not to talk to the Hastur-lord," Erminie whispered softly.

Alastair found himself wondering about the unknown laran of the Hasturs. But everyone else took it for granted; they all sat in silence for several minutes, waiting for Gavin to open his eyes. After about ten minutes he did and reached for his wine glass. Floria shoved the plate of biscuits toward him, and he took one and ate it before speaking.

"He'll be here within a tenday," Gavin reported. "Queen Antonella is doing much better than expected, so he feels he can leave her. And since he canceled all his engagements to sit with her while she was ill, nobody expects him to be anyplace else. So he'll slip quietly out of the city with twenty of his guards―no need to strain your hospitality, Lord Storn―and come straight here."

"Very well," Storn said. "Lenisa, you'll see all made ready for His Grace's visit."

"I'll help, if you permit," Floria said, looking shyly at Lenisa with a tentative smile.

Lenisa hesitated for a moment, then returned the smile. "That would be very kind of you," she said. "I do not know what a Hastur king may expect in the way of protocol―sister."

Floria knew the girl was torn between shyness and a fear that the Thendara laranzu might despise her as an awkward country girl.

"Oh, you need not worry about that, my dear," she said, giving Lenisa a spontaneous hug. "King Aidan is the kindest of men; within half an hour you will be thinking of him as your favorite uncle, as if you'd known him all your life. Won't she, Gavin?"

19 .,

Conn found himself feeling strangely uneasy about the end of the feud and King Aidan's coming visit. Maybe he had a suspicious nature, but it all seemed too easy to him, too good to be true. Being told he could marry Floria was like a beautiful dream but one he kept expecting to wake from. Riding through the hills a few days later, checking to see how his―no, Alastair's―tenants were doing, it struck him that everything that had happened since he left for Thendara seemed like a dream―something he couldn't quite believe in.