The Swans' War 3 - The Shadow Roads (38 page)

Carral shook his head. His mind seemed to whirl through a cycle of thoughts over and over again, to no avail. This cycle of thoughts led him to one conclusion over and over again. Llyn would never marry him while there was hope that Toren felt toward her as she did toward him.

He should have felt anger toward or resentment of Toren—his rival for Llyn's affections—but he wasn't sure that Toren was even aware of this rivalry. The young nobleman certainly wasn't acting like a man who felt threatened by some other. He went about his business as though this never entered his thoughts, visiting Llyn with the same infrequency that he apparently always had.

Nor did Carral feel any anger or resentment toward Llyn. In truth, he felt pity for her. She was tortured by this division of loy-alties, by her love for two men.

But I am the one who loves her utterly, Carral thought. She must see that. She was sighted, after all.

He stopped suddenly. Someone hovered a few feet away; he could hear their breathing "Father?" The voice was so small he could barely make out the word.

"Father?" the voice said again, no stronger.

"Elise?"

Footsteps sounded on the gravel, but they were not Elise's— were they? She was in his arms, damp and musky, as though she had come out of the river. Her hair was cold and moist, a mass of uncombed curls.

He breathed in the scent of her all the same, felt her in his arms, thin and fragile.

"You-are-alive, you-are-alive, you-are-alive," he said over and over.

They did not move for the longest time, but stood holding each other close. Carral drank in her presence,felt the air move in and out of her lungs. He thought he could almost feel the beating of her heart.

"Father… I'm sorry I didn't send word that I was alive, but—""You never need apologize to me, Elise. You wouldn't have done it without good reason."They were silent again for a time.

"I must go away again," Elise whispered, her voice laden with regret.

"Will you be gone for long? I've missed you so."Elise pulled back a little, so she could see his face, Carral thought. "There is no place for me here—""But we'll go back to Braidon Castle___""I can't go back." She drew him near again, pressing her cheek against his chest as she had when she was a child.

"But Elise, I will take up my place as the head of our family. I will need your help. And you are my heir—""I renounce this foolishness," she said emphatically. "There is no throne, Father. There never will be. I can't live here among our people. Too many know what I have done—what I've become. I made a bargain with a nagar, father. There is no going back."Carral felt tears, not just at what she said but at the despair in her voice. "Where will you go?""North, to a house on the river. It is a place where I might heal, and there are two children there who will need my guidance.""I'll visit you there if you'll let me.""I would and gladly, but it is a hidden place. A place you can-not find.""A place only Alaan might travel?" he said.

"Alaan, and a few others."

"Will we never be together again?""I hope we will. We'll see where the river takes us." She kissed his cheek with great tenderness, then drew away. He felt the loss of her the moment she left his embrace—almost more than he could bear.

"I have brought you something," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. She placed an object in his hands.

Carral ran his hands over it quickly. "It is a mask.""Yes.""Why is it wet?"

"It has been in the river."

"And what am I to do with it?""It is not for you, father. It is for Lady Llyn—a gift of the nagar. If she will wear it, and not remove it, her scars will be healed." Elise paused. "She will be whole again—beautiful.""Ahh," Carral said softly, but his first thought was, then why would she love a blind man like me? She would marry Toren, cer-tainly. He turned the mask over in his hands. These thoughts were unworthy of him, he realized. He should be overjoyed that Llyn could be healed.

"I would do the same for you, Father, but you did not lose your sight. You were born without it. It cannot be restored.""It doesn't matter. I have been blind my whole life. It isn't a hardship. But if Lady Llyn can be healed…"His voice disap-peared, suddenly.

Elise stepped forward and embraced him again. She kissed him. He could feel how hard it was for her to release him. There was that, at least.

He heard her steps on the gravel.

"Elise!"

The steps stopped. "Yes?"

"You have given up everything to fight this war—" He lost his voice, emotion stealing it away.

"I am the daughter of Carral Wills. How could I have done less?" Her footsteps retreated through the garden, growing more and more distant as though she had passed through a wall and out into the hostile world beyond.

He collapsed onto a low stone bench and wept like a child. No. He'd wanted to say. Your strength came from your mother, but it was too late, too late to say so many things.

Dease entered the ballroom. He had not been there since the costume ball that ended the Westbrook Fair—and began so much else. There was furniture in there, now, as there was much of the year. Tapers cast their warm glow over the gathered masses: a crowd of his cousins and aunts and uncles. They were a subdued lot, even somber. Escaping destruction by the Wills and their allies would do that, Dease thought. Almost none of them knew the true story. That would have sobered them for some years.

"Dease! Returned and looking hale," an uncle said, clapping him on the back. And then in a more intimate tone. "Do you have any idea what this is in aid of?""I haven't, Uncle. I was sent a message that Toren wanted to see me most urgently.""Ah. Well, here's Toren. Perhaps he will have the goodness to ex-plain why we are here on this night of all nights."A hush of expectation fell as Toren entered. He was followed by a scribe and several servants bearing boxes of what appeared to be paper, documents of some sort. Behind them all came Lady Bea-trice. The boxes were set on a long trestle table.

"Well, Cousin," someone said, "it is comforting to know that you love us all so well that you have asked us here while leaving so many others uninvited. Yet I can't help but notice that we are the Renne most closely related to you. A coincidence, I'm sure.""As you suspect, Cousin," Toren said. "It is no coincidence. We all lie in the succession from my father to … well, I will get to that." Toren took a few paces across the end of the large room, gathering his thoughts. He was dressed in somber clothes and wore a black velvet ribbon around his arm. He had lost no immediate family member in the battle, though numerous men and women present were not so lucky, and they wore the elaborate black clothing of mourning.

"Let me begin by saying that if anyone realized how close the Renne have just come to utter defeat there would be no celebration going on this night. The feud between Wills and Renne almost brought to ruin more than our own fortunes.""So why is there a Wills still living in this castle?" someone called out.

"A good question," Toren said. "And the answer is that he is the future of a continuing peace with the Wills."There was some murmuring among the thirty or so Renne present, but no one would say more. Carral Wills was respected even there, and he was the guest of Lady Beatrice, whose presence prevented any more criticism.

Dease closed his eyes, and felt something inside grow still and cold. Toren was talking about Llyn. Llyn.

"You tried to make peace with the Wills before this war broke out, Cousin," a woman said. "We know that it isn't possible.""I think it is possible," Toren said. "In truth, it is essential."There was the briefest silence while people absorbed this.

"Carral Wills might be a man of honor," Dease's uncle offered, "and he might uphold a peace between us, but what of his grand-children? Will they?"S^x^S "They will if they're Renne."This caused a little whispering, some quizzical looks. More than one person glanced at Dease as though he might have an ex-planation.

"Most of us have heard the rumor that Lord Carral has fallen under the spell of one of the ladies of the castle. No need to name which one. Even if they were to have children, his daughter lies in the succession claimed by her family. And subsequent children would be pushed aside.""Lady Elise has renounced her family's claims. She is leaving the old kingdom this night, and I don't expect we will see her again for many years."The Renne were looking one to another, uncomfortable with where this discussion appeared to lead.

"Let us stop being coy," one woman said caustically. "If Lord Carral and Lady Llyn have children, they will be raised among the Wills. Their children will be of that family and forget any allegiance to the Renne. And what has all this to do with us?"Toren looked up at the crowd then, determination burning in his eyes. Dease had seen this look before many a tournament.

"I am proposing this. No. That is not strong enough. We have only one path to continued survival: the Renne and the Wills must be joined into one family. Lady Llyn must be made the legal heir to Renne aspirations."The room fell utterly silent. Dease looked around at the stunned faces, his precious relatives staring, slack-jawed, at the madman be-fore them.

Dease took a deep breath. If he had learned one thing in these past weeks it was that he was unworthy of Llyn's favor. He took a step forward. "If that is what the documents are for," Dease said loudly, "I will sign away my claims in the succession." He walked up to the table. "Where is a quill and ink?""I won't sign such a document," a lady said firmly, "nor will I stay here and listen to this"—the woman glanced over at Lady Bea-trice and decided to choose her words more carefully— "proposal.""Why?" Dease said, turning on the woman, unable to hide his anger. "Do you think you will one day come to the throne? There is no throne, and you are so far down the list of succession that nei-ther you nor your children will ever sit at the head of the Renne table. Toren is offering a resolution to our dilemma. The child of Llyn and Lord Carral would be the head of both houses. There would be no hatred to fuel our feud.""Such a child would be a Wills," someone called out angrily.

"No. The child would be a Renne-Wills," Toren said. "The child of both houses.""But it is said that Lady Llyn loves another," a woman argued. Which caused Lady Beatrice to shift uncomfortably in her chair.

This stopped Toren for a moment, and Dease wondered if he had an answer. "Her heart has changed," he said softly.

"But why not a union between you and Elise Wills?" a woman wondered. "That would make giving up our claims unnecessary.""Llyn and Lord Carral will bring peace, I believe," Toren said almost sadly. "Lady Elise and I are only suited for war."Fondor had said nothing until this point, but now he stepped forward. "Only Toren is making a sacrifice, for he is the heir of Renne aspirations. The rest of us are only giving up a dream. I will give up a dream for peace.""As will I," said Kel. "And if more of you had fought in the re-cent battles, you would not be hesitating as you are now. In truth you are signing away nothing. Signing away nothing for a chance at lasting peace. I would take that chance in hopes that my sons would not give their lives to a feud they did not make.""I will sign your papers," one of Toren's cousins said. She was dressed in black, her face a mask of anguish. "I have lost one son this day. I would give up anything to save others this sorrow."Toren's secretary found the appropriate document. She signed, and Dease acted as first witness, Lady Beatrice as second witness. The woman's hand trembled a little as she wrote her name, but her resolve was firm. Her husband signed after her, though he said nothing and met no one's eye.

Fondor and Kel both signed their documents without hesita-tion, showing solidarity among the men who had fought. Two oth-ers who had fought in the battle came forward, embracing Toren first, then signing away their claims.

Dease felt the whole enterprise balanced on a sword's edge. If one person refused, all would be lost. Toren had shown great in-sight to gather everyone together in one room. They could see the others committing themselves to this course. Anyone who refused would be remembered as the one who had thwarted a chance for peace, and all subsequent deaths in battle with the Wills would be laid at that person's doorstep.

As each person signed, the pressure on those remaining in-creased. Dease thought all would be for naught, as in the end a par-ticularly stupid aunt and uncle refused to sign. But the rest of those present surrounded them and bullied them into signing. It wasn't quite the way Dease had hoped it would go, but everyone signed.

Toren signed last—the only one who really signed away any rights—and, though he didn't hesitate, Dease thought his face went a little pale.

"It is done," Toren said as he blotted his signature. "Lady Llyn is now the heir to all Renne claims and effectively head of the family— Llyn and her children after her."Lady Beatrice came forward and kissed him on both cheeks, her pride unspoken but hidden from no one. Dease found he had to sit down. He beckoned a servant and asked for wine, and when it came he drained his glass in one draught. It didn't help. He had lost everything he once valued, and this night he had lost twice, though neither had been his to possess.

I have given up my hopes, he thought. Let some good come of it.