Stavin sighed as well. “It’s all I wanted to do. Ever since I learned to read the glyphs, I’ve wanted to be a scribe. I wanted to be the scribe, the Master Scribe of the Kavinston Archive. And now I can’t.”
“No,” Shari said with a sigh. “Now you are stuck being a prince.” Then she giggled. “Oh, Stavi, isn’t this silly?”
“It’s like being made master of the Kel’Carins. It’s not a bad thing, it’s just not what we wanted.” He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “All right, Princess Sharindis, time for us to rethink our future. Got any ideas?”
“We could finish the Book of Inatat this winter. We have plenty of time.” A smile crossed her lips as a new thought occurred to her. “We could also write the translation of the ancient glyphs into modern glyphs, as well as Common. We need one here for Jessaka and Marral, and the Evandian Archivists are going to want one as well. If we do several copies we can give Lord General Zel’Enred a copy of his own. I bet he’ll like that.”
Stavin was nodding vigorously. “I bet he will. And when I go—no, when we go to Twin Bridges in the spring, we can deliver it in person. King Kalin said he wanted to meet you and Karli. Marina had been telling him stories.”
Sharindis shook her head. “I don’t know about taking the babies on the road, Stavin. Karlin is old enough, but the twins are going to be very young.”
“We’ll use the enclosed wagon.”
“Marina took the enclosed wagon.”
“Huh?” Stavin grunted as he tilted his head to the side.
Sharindis sighed. “When Marina went home, she went in the enclosed wagon. Dad and the Council insisted. So did Dahvin.” She shrugged before adding. “She’s your sister now, so I didn’t see a reason to argue. We weren’t going to need it.”
Stavin took another deep breath and blew it out in short bursts. “Then we get Dad and Henley to enclose another one. The one I brought up with the books and desk. It has a cover already. All they’ll need to do is build sides and we can fit the interior the way we want it.”
Shari smiled as she thought about the idea. “That will do nicely.”
Chapter 2
STAVIN PRESENTED THE IDEA TO HIS father the next morning. Karlit nodded thoughtfully as he listened.
“We can do that. We have the extra wood from those bookshelves.” He paused to consider the idea carefully for a moment as he continued to nod and look at Stavin. “We can probably make it nicer than the other one as well. That was primarily made to haul trade goods. This one can be designed for living in.”
They went to the area where the valley’s wagons were parked. The covered wagon was the only wagon of the Kel’Aniston Trading House left in the valley. All the others had been taken to Aravad to await the thaw when they would deliver the spring supplies.
It was a large wagon: fifteen cubits long, and five wide. It was suited more for hauling bulk items like grain or hay than anything else, but Karlit hummed and nodded as he walked around it. “Yes, that will do,” he said, more to himself than Stavin. Turning to his son, he smiled broadly. “We can make this into a nice wagon for you and Shari to take down to Twin Bridges.”
Stavin looked up at his father and asked, “Can I help?” in a timid tone.
Karlit gave him a startled look and said, “Of course. Why would you ask a question like that?”
Stavin grimaced bitterly. “The Council and their damn ‘It’s not appropriate,’ rulings.”
Karlit chuckled and shook his head. “You know, Stavin, they really can’t tell you what to do. Oh, they can hem and haw, but you outrank all of them, both as a warrior and as a prince.”
Stavin sighed, then spoke in a whiney tone as he said, “But I don’t. That’s the problem.”
Karlit stopped what he was doing and turned his son to face him. “How so?” he asked as he looked down into Stavin’s face.
Stavin grimaced and looked down. “I haven’t made my fifth expedition yet.”
Karlit burst out laughing. “Stavin, you can’t be serious.”
“My stars don’t really count until I make all five of my expeditions.”
Karlit grabbed Stavin by both shoulders and gave him a little shake. “They count, Stavin. They always have. You couldn’t lead an expedition because you didn’t have the experience, but they tried to seat you on the Council. You really do outrank all of them, even Charvil and Barvil. You aren’t going to be making a fifth expedition anyway. Not with those four hollowed stars on your shoulder and the name Zel’Andral. The king will never allow it.”
Stavin shook his head because he was confused by what his father was saying. His hands came out like he was holding his Dragon’s Tongue. “But Charvil said I was still the lowest ranked because I hadn’t made all five expeditions.”
“Nope,” Karlit said with a shake of his head and a wry grin. “You were lowest ranked because you believed Charvil when he said you were. And, really, you would have only been above two or three of them. It wouldn’t have made a difference. But now, Prince Stavin Zel’Andral, Senior Warmaster of Kel’Kavin, you can do pretty much whatever you damn well please. So can Princess Shari. Oh, Arlen will bow to the Council and try to keep her out of the Archive, and might even refuse to assign her work, but he can’t stop her from taking a scroll to your suite and working on it if she wants to.” Karlit grinned as Stavin looked up at him.
Stavin stood stunned dumb for a moment, then stammered, “I—We—They—Oh, that’s just so typical.”
Karlit chuckled. “Yes, it is. You’re used to obeying the Council. We all are. But the simple fact of the matter, my son, is that you are no longer under their authority. No more than Princess Marina was. They can ask, but they can’t command. Now, let’s get started on this wagon.”
*
It turned out that Stavin did recognize Karvil Kel’Dessar once he was introduced. He was a typical fourteen-year-old in most respects. Tall, gawky, and unfinished, Karvil had a surprisingly handsome face. Stavin recognized the boy’s face immediately. He had just never put the face and name together until then.
Karvik and Stavin were once again drilling the final year group every third day with Dragon’s Tongues, and Varik had positioned himself and Karvil in the front row. Barvil and Charvil were drilling them during the intervening two days with sword and ax. Their respective ranks demanded it.
Stavin smiled as he surveyed his students, and especially his little-brother-in-law. “Good morning,” he said loudly, making sure every eye was on him. “Warleader Kel’Carin and I will be working with you all winter to get you ready for the spring. We are not going to be teaching you how to use a Dragon’s Tongue. You already know that. What we are going to do is teach you how to stay alive long enough to use that knowledge.”
Nineteen young voices shouted, “Yes, Senior Warmaster Zel’Andral.”
Stavin stifled a sigh. He also stifled the desire to smack Karvik when he started chuckling. “Very well. Varik, front and center.”
Stavin picked up a shortened Dragon’s Tongue and tossed it to his brother-in-law. Varik caught the practice weapon automatically and looked at it, then at Stavin. “Um, isn’t this yours, sir?”
“Yep. This one matches it,” Stavin said as he picked up another shortened Dragon’s Tongue. “You’ll be spending the winter using that one to get used to the length and heft.”
Varik was giving him an intense look now. “Why?” he asked as a smile started to curve his lips.
Stavin grinned. “I told you I might let you use my Dragon’s Tongue this season. You need to get used to the different length and heft before you go out.”
“You mean it?!” Varik all but shouted, then recovered his composure enough to add, “Warmaster Stavin?”
“I mean it,” Stavin answered with a chuckle. “In the circle, Var. Strike and evade.”
Karvik chose another young man and began drilling him in the fine art of not getting himself killed. Two other Warmasters were watching them from the side, and both of
them were smiling for the same reason.
“He’s really going to let Varik use his Dragon’s Tongue,” Charvil commented.
Barvil nodded. “And I’ll bet a crown he’s going to ask for Varik to be included in his guards when he goes to Twin Bridges.”
“Are you going to let him?” Charvil asked, looking sideways at his cousin.
Barvil nodded. “I don’t see why not. I also don’t think I’ll take more than three teams. I’d be surprised if we see any action.”
“Probably not. But we’re talking about Stavin.” Charvil gave Barvil a very intense look. “I didn’t think we’d see any action when we went to Twin Bridges season before last, and look how that turned out.”
The two Warmasters turned and watched as Stavin and Karvik taught, each with his own thoughts, but both with the same concern: What kind of trouble will Stavin get into this time?
*
Shari spent her daylight hours at her table under the south window, reading and copying scrolls as she pleased. She’d sent her mother to talk to Master Scribe Kel’Zorgan about working on the scrolls. Nahrana hadn’t said what form of persuasion she’d used to get her big brother to relent, but Shari suspected there had been threats of violence involved. Between Nahrana and Arlen, there usually were.
She was copying a scroll of laws once again. I think Uncle Arlen is trying to turn me into a magistrate. Or perhaps a queen? This scroll, like the last one, had been written during the reign of Queen Fiora Zel’Kanis, the queen who had banished all of her father’s Royal Guards to Kel’Kavin. It was a list of rulings she had handed down on everything from a simple land dispute between two Chosen houses to an execution order for a man who had beaten his wife to death.
Law was a subject that had always held a strange fascination for Shari. So many laws contradicted one another that it was possible to argue both sides of a case against the middle. Plus, there was the fact that if the king or queen was involved, their word was law, no matter what was written down.
As she copied the scroll, she couldn’t help thinking how she would have ruled in the cases. The details were all there. She usually decided that the old queen had ruled correctly, and in one instance she snorted in amusement.
“Princess Shari, did you need something?” Sallin asked as she stuck her head into the room.
“No, Salli, I was just amused by one of Queen Fiora’s rulings. Listen. In the matter of House Zel’Jassan versus House Zel’Haltan, I find that House Zel’Haltan is acting like a stingy toddler crying ‘Mine! Mine!’ every time they get hold of something, theirs or not. The houses were squabbling over a herd of feral cattle that was wandering between their holdings. She continues with, House Zel’Haltan and House Zel’Jassan shall each provide ten men to capture the herd, then it shall be divided equally. If the numbers don’t come out even, then the extra animal shall be delivered to the Temple of the Nurturer. A lot of her rulings end with anything left over going to Lady Sahren.”
Sallin bowed and said, “Yes, Princess Shari. I should get back to work.”
Shari was pleased with Sallin. The girl had blossomed into a young woman, even if she was a touch older than usual for an unmarried woman. However, Shari had been even older, so it wasn’t an issue she would allow to be brought up. The only thing that bothered her was that she still had no idea what the girl looked like beyond Stavin’s original description.
The light crept across her table, and she sighed when it reached the point that told her evening was upon them once again. She carefully put her crystal away and closed her inkpot. She’d copied nearly a quarter of the scroll despite her aching back. She looked at her belly and whispered, “You two are getting heavy.” Then she smiled and cradled her belly with both hands and closed her eyes as she rocked side to side.
Stavin arrived home after his day with the young warriors and she smiled at the sounds he was making. He always kept up a continuous monologue about his day with the young warriors.
“They’re getting better. They all seem to believe that Kar and I can teach them how to get a star on their first expedition.”
“And can you?” Shari asked.
“I don’t know. That’s not what we’re trying to teach them. We’re trying to teach them how—”
“—How to stay alive,” Shari finished for him. “I know. But you must realize that they aren’t much different from you, Stavin. Who was it who once told me that all he used to dream of was being a Warmaster like my dad?”
Stavin chuckled. “Guilty. Never thought it would happen, though. Not really. Not after I stopped growing.”
Shari smiled. “And now look at you, Senior Warmaster Zel’Andral. Everyone needs a dream, Stavin.”
Stavin slipped on some soft, comfortable clothes and walked over to her. He asked, “And what was your dream, my darling?” as he leaned over to kiss her.
Shari smiled and said, “You.”
Chapter 3
THE WINTER PASSED SLOWLY FOR STAVIN and Sharindis. The restrictions placed on them by the Elders chafed, but they had spent their entire lives living in accordance with the Elder’s decrees. As much as they disliked it, it was just how things were. Then, just after the Mid Winter Festival, things got interesting.
“Stavin?” Shari said, reaching over to nudge him in the middle of the night. “Stavin, it’s time.”
“Time for what?” Stavin asked sleepily.
“Time for the babies,” Shari groaned.
Stavin was out of bed in an instant and turning up the lamp. “What do you want me to do?” he asked in a near panic.
“Mom. Get mom. And Barb. Hurry.”
Stavin was dressing as she spoke, and ran out of their bedroom, pausing to stick his head in where Sallin and Karlin were sleeping. “Salli, Shari’s in labor. I’m going for Nahrana and Barb.” He was gone in an instant, and Sallin hurried into the royal bedroom.
“Princess Shari, what can I do?”
“Help me sit up.” Shari sighed as the contraction eased. “Prop the pillows behind my back.” Sallin did as she was asked, then sat on the edge of the bed and waited.
Stavin returned with Nahrana and Marinis, and Barb was just behind them. Charvil and Karlit followed the women in and took Stavin by the arms. “Come with us, son,” Karlit said when Stavin looked at him. “Some things you’ve just got to let the women handle alone.”
“But Dad—”
“Nope. They threw me out when you and your brothers and sisters were born. They threw us out when Karlin was born. They aren’t going to let you stay for the twins. Come on, let’s get Karlin and go to our house. Delia was up and fixing the morning meal when we left.”
“But Dad—”
Charvil sighed and shook his head. “Come along, Stavin. It’s not up to us. Barb is the Midwife, and she makes the rules.” Charvil went in and picked up Karlin, and the boy didn’t even wake up as he was lifted from his bed. “Grab a blanket and wrap it around him,” Charvil ordered, and Stavin immediately complied. Then Karlit led them out of the fortress.
Karlit led the way into his house, and guided Stavin and Charvil to chairs. Farlit walked out of the kitchen and smiled at his little brother. “This is the hard part, Stave. Just sit back and relax. Del will have the morning meal ready in a bit.”
Stavin sat and sighed. “Is it always like this?” he asked the other men.
“Yep,” Karlit, Charvil and Farlit answered together.
The twins were born just after mid day. The first was named Sahren, after Sahren Kel’Vandar. That was Stavin’s idea. The second was named Mahren, after Shari’s maternal great-grandmother. There were some chuckles about the names rhyming, but that wasn’t uncommon with twins.
Stavin and the men were let back in once the mess was cleaned up. Barb met them just outside the bedroom door. “Quietly, gentlemen. Shari is very tired. The girls are asleep, and don’t you dare wake them.” The glare she treated them to was sufficient to draw nods of obedience from all three of them, rank be damned.
Stavin led the way to the side of the bed and looked down at his wife and daughters. They were so tiny, lying there wrapped in blankets against the chill of the fortress. “Shari?” Stavin whispered, and she opened her eyes a little and smiled.
“They’re perfect, Stavi. Absolutely perfect.”
“So are you,” he whispered. “Do you need anything?”
Shari smiled. “Just some rest. Where’s Karli?”
Stavin looked over to the door and signaled Sallin to bring Karlin. She handed him over to Stavin, then stepped back, but she was craning her neck to get another look at the babies.
Stavin held Karlin so he could see the bed and said, “Karli, these are you new sisters.” Karlin looked at the babies intently for a moment, then turned and hugged Stavin’s neck. Stavin chuckled. “Not ready yet, hmm? That’s all right. You’ve got the rest of your lives to get to know one another.”
“Shari needs to sleep now, Prince Stavin,” Barb Kel’Kaffrey said in a no-nonsense tone. “Sallin should stay with her, but everyone else needs to leave.”
Everyone immediately turned to leave, and Stavin felt a chuckle bubbling in his chest. No matter what their rank was, no one argued with the midwife. Charvil, Karlit, Marinis, and Nahrana joined Stavin in the sitting room, and Marinis immediately grabbed Karlin.
“Well, little Prince Karlin, what do you think of having little sisters?” she asked. Karlin wasn’t speaking very much yet, so he replied by frowning and cuddling into his grandmother’s lap. She chuckled and held him tightly. “That’s all right, sweetie. We all understand. You’ll get used to them.”
“Stavin,” Nahrana said, drawing everyone’s attention, “I’d like to move up here for a while to help Shari.”
Stavin nodded. “Sure. Whatever you want.”
“I’m canceling your next three days in the training grounds as well,” Charvil added, making Stavin shift his attention. “You need to spend some time with your daughters, and Karlin is going to need extra attention for a while.” He smiled at his grandson. “We don’t want him getting jealous of the babies.”
Farindian Summer (Stavin DragonBlessed Book 4) Page 2