Roberson, Jennifer - Cheysuli 05

by A Pride of Princes (v1. 0)

  Abruptly, Brennan wrenched his eyes away to stare at the floor; he could not bear to see the pain in Hart's eyes.

  "Come here," Niall said.

  After a moment. Hart answered his father's bidding.

  He was conscious of all the eyes, but looked only at the single blue one of his father. "Jehan—"

  "If you think I will love you the less because you lack a hand, you have no wits at all," Niall said clearly. "If you think I cannot comprehend the pain—physical as well as emotional—that such a loss engenders, look again at my face."

  Hart felt dizzy. He drew in a deep breath, wet his lips, did not avoid the topic. "No, jehan. But you are Mujhar; they dared not send you out of the clan."

  "That had nothing to do with it," Niall said gently.

  "An eye lost, as Taliesin pointed out to me, is not a mark of physical weakness nor deformity of the spirit. I am no less a man because I have only one. And while it is true that the toss of an eye does not affect a warrior as much as the loss of a hand, I do understand what you feel."

  Hart looked at the floor, thinking mutinous thoughts.

  "I do" his father repeated.

  After a moment. Hart nodded.

  "Sit down," Niall told him. "Keely, will you send for wine? I think all of us could use it."

  "Usca" Corin said, and grinned at her exaggerated curtsy just before she went out the door,

  "So." Niall sat down in the last of Deirdre's chairs even as she settled herself on the stool nearest his feet.

  "I am ashamed," he said flatly. "Ashamed I did not realize sooner the scope of Strahan's intentions. But when Brennan and Rhiannon disappeared so soon on the heels of Teirnan's defection, I feared a'saii interference, not Ihlini. Not after so much time," Bleakly, he shook his head. "I spent weeks trying to trap Teirnan, and all I did was waste time and effort. Yet until a crofter's half-wit son at last had courage enough to come forward and tell me he had seen Rhiannon spirit Brennan away, I did not comprehend what was afoot."

  "Nor did I," Ian said grimly. "Blind fools, all of us—and it gave Strahan the time he needed."

  Niall glanced briefly at Ian, who had sired Rhiannon, than looked away from the bleak guilt in his brother's eyes. He sighed, rubbing at old scars. "I knew then he would want you all, each of my sons, and that further delay might result in your deaths, or worse. And so I readied an army to march on Valgaard itself." Niall’s smile was twisted. "We were to leave in the morning . . . but I think I may cancel the duty."

  "Unless you wish to engage Strahan once and for all."

  Brennan shook his head. "A formidable foe, jehan. He needs killing, but I think it will take more than an army. Even of Cheysuli."

  "Or less," Ian remarked. "Perhaps a single man, in place of that army."

  "No," Niall said promptly. "For now I want none of my family anywhere near Valgaard or the Ihlini. We are together again for the first time in nearly a year, and I would prefer to enjoy it."

  "Nearly a year?" Corin grinned. "Our banishment is incomplete, then ... do you intend to send Hart and me away again?" He slanted a glance at his middle brother, who merely shrugged one shoulder and smiled vaguely.

  Keely returned. "The wine is coming," she said, moving to stand behind Corin's chair. "And, my lord Mujhar, if you intend to send Corin—or Hart—anywhere, you will have to contend with me."

  Niall’s smile was crooked. "Aye, aye, so I see. And no, I do not intend to send them anywhere, unless they want to go." He lifted a tawny brow in Keely's direction.

  "Did you tell Aileen Brennan is home at last?"

  In his chair, Corin froze. He felt Keely's hands on his shoulders, pressing gently, as if to offer support. "She knows," Keely said briefly. "Everyone in the palace knows."

  Ian nodded. "I sent Tasha to Clankeep with the news, so you may expect Maeve home by evening."

  "Maeve is at Clankeep?" Brennan asked in surprise.

  Niall frowned a little. "She wished to see the shar tahl. She swore the vows of a meijha, Brennan, in good faith, even if in poor judgment. Now that Teir has renounced his clan, she wishes to formally renounce the vows."

  "Teir is a fool," Hart declared.

  "Teir is more than that," Keely said grimly. "He is kin-wrecked—proscribed by the shar tahl, by the clan-leader ... he is forbidden Clankeep, Mujhara—not that he would wish to come here anyway—and all the other clans." She grimaced. "Though he goes where he will, in truth, gathering other warriors."

  "How many?" Brennan asked bleakly.

  "Unknown." Ian moved aside as a servant came in with wine and goblets. He took them from him, dismissed the man, set everything on a table and began to pour, handing out the cups. "There are rumors one day he has seven men, the next day seventy."

  "He is shrewd," Niall said. "Much smarter than I believed. But Ceinn has suckled him on tales of the old days, when the race was exquisitely pure . . . Teirnan is now dedicated to the restoration of the old ways without benefit of the prophecy."

  Brennan shook his head as he leaned forward to take the cup from Ian. "How can a warrior who has been raised to respect the prophecy turn his back on it? I admit that I am less than enamored of the need to cohabit with Ihlini, but to deny myself the afterworld? No." Brennan shook his head. "Teirnan must be mad."

  "Not mad." Ian carried the requested usca to Corin.

  "Determined. We have been blessed, as a race, with a consuming dedication—to the exclusion of all else—to fulfillment of the prophecy. We have been accused, on more than one occasion, of being blind and deaf to the truth, locking ourselves away in insular arrogance, believing we know the only way." He looked at his brother.

  "Some might name us cursed."

  Niall nodded thoughtfully. "Once, we believed no Ihlini could intend anything but harm to us. We learned differently from an old woman, an old Ihlini woman, who lived in Homana out of choice. And from an ageless harper, who showed me that an Ihlini formerly sworn to the Seker could renounce that allegiance in the name of peace and coexistence, and actually work for the prophecy."

  "And still does so." Hart reached for wine with his left hand, stopped rigidly, put out his right. "It was Taliesin who gave us refuge from Strahan."

  "And Taliesan, with Carollan, who gave us back our youngest rujholli." Brennan smiled at Corin. "If you do not tell him all that you accomplished, even in front of Strahan, I will"

  Corin shrugged. "Another time."

  Niall smiled. "That, too, has changed." His eyes glinted.

  "No more resentment of your oldest rujholli."

  Corin stared. "You knew?”

  Silvering brows rose. "How could I not? Do you think I am blind? I knew very well how much you wanted what Brennan had. As for now?" Niall smiled. "I think you have learned there are more important things to concern yourself with than what your rujholli has."

  "Such as survival," Hart said dryly. "The gods know we could have died a dozen times."

  "I did." Brennan's tone was hollow as, for the moment, he was back in the tiny cell. He shivered, rose abruptly, put his unfinished wine down. "Jehan, there is more to tell you. But I think it will wait for another time." He straightened his jerkin. "There is something I must do ... someone I must come to terms with."

  Corin, thinking of Aileen, thrust himself to his feet.

  And checked as Brennan turned to look at him. Uncomfortable, he shrugged. "I—I intend to have a bath. I am filthy."

  "'So are we all." Hart rose as well, sucking down the last of the wine in his cup. "I think I will catch up on lost sleep."

  In silence, Niall's sons filed slowly out of the solar, automatically sending lir ahead to bedchambers. Intent upon their thoughts, they paid no attention to one another. Not even Corin to Brennan, as much as he wanted to. Like Hart, he turned away, and Brennan went on alone.

  It was midmorning. Sunlight spilled through stained-glass casements and painted the Great Hall a mass of liquid colors. But Brennan ignored the light, ignored the Lion, moving instead t
o the end of the firepit. He cleared wood and ashes, gripped the iron handle, peeled back the lid.

  He stared down into the hole, watching the stairs fall away into darkness. One hundred and two of them. Far fewer than in Valgaard on the way to the Gate of the god.

  Time enough for such foolish fear as I have known . . . never again will I give over such a weapon to the enemy.

  But sunlight, however bright, did not touch the darkness. And so Brennan turned away, intending to light a torch, and saw her standing inside the hammered doors.

  Red-haired. Green-eyed. Supple as a willow. She carried her head high on a slender neck; brilliant hair fell to curl around her hips.

  "They were saying you were back." He heard Erinn in her voice, far more lilting than Deirdre's accent. This woman, this girl, whom I am to wed, nearly cost all of us our sanity, because of Corin.

  But he could not tell her that. Not yet. Perhaps not ever; too much, at this moment, lay between them. Because of Corin. "Back," he said. "Aye." Not knowing what else to say.

  "And safe."

  "Aye," he agreed, "and safe." Then, giving in to it, "So is my youngest rujholli."

  She did not flinch, though clearly she had heard him.

  Nor did she answer, though she calmly walked the length of the hall from doors to firepit. And then she stood before him, considerably shorter than he, and he found, oddly, he wanted to apologize to her. Corin had said little enough of Aileen on the journey home from Solinde, shying away from the topic as if fearing Brennan might be further insulted by his words.

  But Brennan was not insulted. At this moment, facing the stranger he would marry, he did not know what he was.

  He drew in a breath. "You are in love with Corin."

  "Aye," was all she said.

  "And he in love with you."

  Her lips tightened minutely. "Once," she said quietly. "I'm not knowing how long it lasted."

  Resentment rose, then faded. Brennan smiled wryly. "It lasted," he told her sardonically. "I can assure you of that."

  She said nothing. She was no beauty, he saw, and certainly not the kind of woman Corin generally sought for companionship. What she was, he realized, looking at her without benefit of prejudice, was proud as a Cheysuli, with a spirit that blazed as brightly. And he knew, seeing that pride, that spirit, Aileen of Erinn was as trapped by circumstances as the Prince of Homana himself.

  How do I deal with this?

  But there was no answer, not in her face. Nor, he knew, in his own.

  Brennan sighed. "Corin is different," he said. "I saw it at once, when I coud see again, but I did not recognize it. The circumstances did not, quite, lend themselves to contemplation." She gazed at him steadily, hands folded primly in the folds of her gown. And yet, somehow, he knew better. This was not Aileen he faced, but another woman entirely. A woman who knew how she felt no more than he himself did. "Different," he repeated. "Not all of it, I think, is from imprisonment. I think most of it is from you. And so, in the end, instead of blame, I must offer gratitude; it was what saved our lives."

  She did not avoid his eyes. "It was not intended, none of it. I was meaning it no more than Corin. It—" she checked, sighed, went on quietly, "—just happened.

  Brennan thought of Rhiannon. None of that had 'just happened,' being carefully designed, but he understood what Aileen meant. And knew he could lay no blame. "I admire your honesty," he said abruptly. "I have had little of that, of late, from women." He paused. "You do know the story."

  "Aye. Keely told me."

  Trust Keely— But now was not the time. Now was the time for honesty. "Aileen—I cannot promise it will be easy. Arranged marriages are difficult enough, particularly cradle-betrothals, but now, with this—"

  Her cool voice interrupted. "I'm knowing it as well as you, Brennan. D'ye think I've not spent my nights thinking about it, wondering what I would do when you and Corin came home?" A trace of inner fire lighted Erinnish eyes—green as emeralds, he thought—and he saw a hint of Aileen's passion. " 'Twill be as hard as we make it, I think."

  Brennan did not couch his words in diplomacy. "And if Corin stays here? What then? Am I expected to share?"

  The fire caught and burned, blazing in her eyes. " 'Tis between Corin and me, I'm thinking."

  He laughed once, incredulously, on a gust of air. "Is it? Am I discounted so easily?"

  Her skin was very fair, and he saw the bloom of color in her cheeks. Bright scarlet, competing with the brilliance of her hair. "He left me," she said. "He left me, my lord husband-to-be, because he would not steal his brother's betrothed. An honorable man, your brother; d'ye think he'd discard that honor here?"

  It was a new light she cast on Corin. A few weeks before Brennan might have protested she did him too much credit; now, he did not think so. He had seen Corin's unexpected sense of honor on dramatic display in Valgaard.

  "No," he said quietly. "No, I was wrong to imply it."

  Some of her vitality drained away. "Were you? No. I'm thinking not. You believed what any man might, faced with such a coil." Aileen shook her head, wide mouth twisted. " 'Tis sorry I am, Brennan. We none of us asked for it, but it has all been spilled into our laps by your gods ... by your capricious Cheysuli destiny" She sighed. "Keely told me you are a good man, if a trifle unimaginative."

  He considered it thoughtfully a moment. Discarded the idea; he was whatever he was. "And did she tell you of my fear? The flaw in the Prince of Homana?"

  Aileen stared back at him. And then she smiled a little. "If you're meaning he could put a cask of hot water and scent to good use, then aye, I see—smell—flaw. But otherwise—no. Keely said nothing of a flaw. Nothing of a fear."

  "Then I should tell you of it." He went to the wall, took a torch from the bracket, lighted it from a candle and returned to the firepit. "Come down with me," he said. "Come down with me, meijhana, and tell me how it was a bad-tempered, impetuous Cheysuli princeling won the heart of Aileen of Erinn." He smiled. "And I will tell you how it is Corin's oldest rujholli means to face his fear and destroy it."

  Green eyes widened in surprise. "Are you really wanting to know?"

  "No," he said truthfully, "but it will give me something to listen to instead of chattering teeth."

  She frowned. "My teeth are not much for chattering."

  "Mine are." He took the first step into the stairway.

  Turned to look back at the woman his brother loved, knowing, one day, he might learn to feel the same. "Will you come, Aileen?"

  After a moment, she did.

  Corin sprawled on his back in the center of his bed. It felt odd to be in it after so many months, smelling familiar smells, feeling familiar warmth and the softness of the mattress. He had known so little warmth and softness in Strahan's glassy fortress.

  He sought Kiri with one hand, found her, lost himself in silent communion. It remained unbroken until his sister came into the chamber.

  "Corin?"

  He turned his head.

  "You mean to go back to Atvia."

  It was a statement, not inquiry. He thought about it a moment, then nodded. "I think so."

  Keely moved closer to the bed, "And if I asked you to stay?"

  The wall of his belly clenched. "Do you know what you ask?"

  "I know." She stood rigidly beside the bed. "Aileen has confided in me." She shrugged a little, clearly tense.

  "We became close. Corin, being somewhat alike . . . she told me what had happened, and how." Abruptly she sat down. "Gods, rujho, I know how you must feel! But if you go to Atvia you will leave me all alone."

  "I went to Atvia before."

  "That was for a year. You would come home, I knew it—but now, now—' She sighed, shaking her head; the tawny braid shook itself. "You will go, and never come home again."

  He stroked Kiri with resolution, locked away in silence.

  Keely's tone altered. "You are afraid. I see it."

  "Aye." He did not shirk the admission.

 
"You, Corin?"

  "I have cause." He threaded fingers in Kiri's pelt.

  "Alaric is dead. Atvia lies open to whatever influence Lillith wields, and Strahan. And jehana also is there—witless, twisted jehana." He rolled his head against the bedclothes. "Someone must go, Keely . . . and Atvia is mine."

  "Leave it to someone else."

  "No."

  "Corin—"

  "I will not run from responsibility, nor bewail it. I have something of my own at last, something no one else may hold; Atvia is mine. It is for me to put the realm into order again, my task, to put light in place of darkness. It is for me to do; not Brennan, not Hart, not you."

  He shook his head again. "One day, Keely, you will learn that saying no is not always the answer. Nor is turning your back."

  "Then you will go."

  Corin sighed. "Aye."

  Keely's tone was bitter. "Because the prophecy requires it."

  "As much as it requires service of you. And you will serve it, Keely; no matter how difficult, how demanding, how much sacrifice is asked. You are not like Teirnan."

  Corin sat up and turned, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He still wore his boots; he did not care that he had soiled his bedclothes. "Be what you must, Keely, but let me do what I must."

  She leaned against him slightly. "Then do it, I will not gainsay you; I am not such a fool as to say no to you now, after such a pretty speech. But you are a fool if you think I will not curse you for such newfound resolution."

  "I am not a fool; I know you will." He flipped her braid behind her back.

  Keely drew in a breath. "Will you see her before you go?"

  "I thought to do so now."

  She opened her mouth, then shut it, and would not meet his eyes.

  After a moment, he nodded. "She has gone to Brennan."

  "They—she said there are things to be settled between them, things Brennan must know of her, and things she must learn of him. She said if she left it until after she had seen you—" She broke off, plainly uncomfortable.

  "Oh, Corin—"

  "Later, then; we will both of us be better prepared to say good-bye." Corin nodded; his "newfound resolve" was firm at last, and something he could live with. "And now, if you do not mind, I would like to take a bath."