“Neva has told you where we are going?”
“Yes, Your Highness,” said Ivo.
“There are things I wish to do, and since you do not know Mirana I thought I would be your guide and show you the sights.”
She led the way out of the palace and down a steep, cobbled street that clung to the side of the cliff. Houses, painted white but with brightly colored doors, were built against the cliff. On the other side was a stone parapet over which they could see the harbor, the breakwater that protected it, and the blue sea beyond. Gulls and terns wheeled and soared overhead and the air had a keen, fresh tang to it.
Housewives, returning from market with their baskets or standing in their doorways, greeted the princess with easy and familiar warmth, and she responded graciously, calling many of them by name.
Down below all was bustle. Shops, booths and stands lined the landward side of the broad avenue that ran along the waterfront. On the other side were the quays where the ships were tied up; long, low merchant vessels with sea-serpent prows and smaller, beamy fishing boats, all with their sails furled, huddled together like resting sea-birds.
Tradesmen and craftsmen hawking their wares, baggy trousered seamen and porters carrying baskets, boxes and bales all greeted the princess also and she responded to them as she had to the women with a smile or a nod.
“Why do you not walk with me?” she asked Ivo, who had been following a few paces behind her with Neva and Liall.
“Because I did not think it was proper.”
“It is quite proper. Besides, how can I talk to you if you are not at my side?”
“I did not realize that you wished to talk to me.”
“Did I not say I would be your guide?”
“Yes, Princess,” he said and lengthening his stride he began walking next to her.
“What do you think of all this?” asked Devita.
“It is all new and quite wonderful, Princess. Not just the shops and ships and people, but the sea, too.”
“You have never seen it before?”
“No, Princess.”
“I did not think there was anyone in Brunn who did not know the sea. Well, I will tell you about it—where our ships go, what they take and bring back. But some day you must tell me about Nordan.”
“Yes, Princess.”
Liall, walking behind them with Neva, glanced at her and said, “You should not look that way, Neva.”
“What way?”
“Half hurt, half angry. I know that you and Ivo are very close but you cannot expect to be with him forever. One day he will marry and leave you.”
“Will he?” she said with bitter irony. “It is thoughtful of you to warn me.”
They paused, waiting in the warm sun as the princess went into one of the shops, talked to the merchant and came out with two long, intricately dyed scarfs.
“Do you like these, Neva?”
“They’re beautiful, Princess.”
“I think so, too. It’s why I came down here today. They are from the Kyrkian Islands where they weave the finest silk in the world and dye it with a dye from shellfish. Which do you like best?”
“I like them both, but I think the blue one would be more becoming to you.”
“It was not myself I was thinking of. It was you. And I think the green one would go best with your eyes and hair. Here.”
“You mean it is for me?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you, Princess. I will always treasure it—not just because it is beautiful but because you gave it to me.”
“You turn phrases like a courtier,” said Devita, smiling. “I thought we were friends.”
“We are.”
“Then say no more about it. There are few things as pleasant as being able to give something to someone one likes.”
“Very well, Princess,” said Neva and she draped the scarf over her shoulders.
The merchant came out of the shop, and Devita paid him and they went on again. A crowd had gathered a short distance ahead of them, near one of the quays. There were tradesmen in it and artisans and seamen but at the centre were two elderly men; one wearing the rich robe of a merchant and the other a sea captain’s boots and cape. As they drew near, the merchant turned away angrily and pushed his way through the crowd.
“You seem troubled, Fornar,” said Devita.
“Not troubled, Princess, furious!” said the merchant. “Timak has just returned from Oralia, and do you know what he is asking for silver? Double what he asked last year!”
“It is a long voyage to Oralia.”
“It is no longer now than it was then. He asks it because he thinks I will pay it. But I told him I will not. I have been a silversmith for almost two score years. I made that fillet you are wearing, your father’s chain of office and the cup out of which the queen drinks. But I will give away my tools and let my forge grow cold before I will pay what he asks!”
“I have heard much the same thing from others,” said Devita. “At the same time the fishermen say that it is scarcely worth their while to cast their nets. But what is to be done about it?”
“I am not of the court, Princess. I know nothing of high policy. But I know that there is silver, gold and iron there,” he pointed south, “in the mountains of Andor, much nearer at hand than Oralia or any of the islands of the sea.”
“Are you saying that we should attack Andor, conquer it and take what we want?”
“No, Princess. One of the reasons you are so well loved is because you have always come among us and we have been able to talk to you. And so let me remind you that there was a time—short it is true—when we got many things we needed for a fair price from Andor, and we—and the fishermen, too—had a better market for our goods than we have ever had before or since.”
“During the time of the truce, you mean. But that was before the great betrayal.”
“Yes, the great betrayal,” said the silversmith sombrely. “I know what the queen suffered as a result of it. But I wonder if she and your father have ever thought of how costly it has been for us, too.” And he moved off towards his shop.
Devita looked after him unhappily, then turned to Neva, Ivo and Liall.
“This is why I come down here so often,” she said. “So that those who cannot speak to the queen or my father can talk to me. And it is also why I am reluctant to come. For each day more and more of them speak as Fornar did. Is it the same in Nordan?”
“We know even less of high policy than those here in Mirana,” said Liall carefully. “But we have heard some talk about the way things are. Is there nothing that can be done about it?”
“I do not know since I know little about the truce—it ended about the time that I was born. On the other hand, I have lived with the tale of the great betrayal. It was, in fact, my father who warned the king and queen about it.”
“How could he do that?” asked Neva.
“He has been a hard and bitter man since my mother died. But he is also wise, and he has always been able to read signs. And there was one about that time that he felt was very significant.”
“What sign was that?”
“The royal falconer came to court one day shortly before the betrayal with a strange tale. He had been on Tarec, a mountain in the far west between Andor and Brunn, seeking an eaglet. Though few go there, Ima’s priestesses have always said that when Ima founded Brunn she set up a black stone there. The falconer—his name was Largar—said that he had seen the stone and that while he was there a lightning bolt struck and shattered it. He was very concerned about it and so was my father. He said it was an omen that the truce would be broken too. And of course he was right.”
“Falconers are great tellers of tales,” said Liall with pretended casualness.
“They are. And Largar told me many when I was little,” said Devita. “But I still believe that this one was true. He was not against peace with Andor as some here were. And besides he brought a fragment of the stone back with him
as proof of what he’d said.”
Ivo hesitated, afraid to ask the next and most important question, but Neva was not.
“What became of it?” she asked.
“The king, my uncle, gave it to Ima’s priestesses, and they put it in her temple. It is still there.”
“I would like to see it,” said Neva.
“It is only a small piece of black stone. But you should see the temple. I will take you there.”
She led them along the quays to a promontory that formed the western side of the harbor. On it was a white, many columned building. They went into it. It was open on all sides except the far end where a statue stood on a block of marble. The statue was tall—as tall as a tall woman—and clearly very old, for it was crudely carved with the features barely suggested. But perhaps because of its simplicity it was very beautiful and filled the temple with its presence.
Devita bowed her head reverently and so did Neva, Ivo and Liall, and then they approached it. On the block of marble in front of the statue was a fragment of black stone slightly larger than the one the gore-crow had taken, the one that Zothar had shown them. And like it, there were characters inscribed upon one side.
“May I have your sword, Ivo?” asked Neva.
He gave it to her, and she held it in front of the stone fragment and looked into it as she had on the top of Tarec.
“Well?” said Liall.
“The last two words are ‘Kennar’s son,’” she said.
She gave Ivo back his sword, and the three of them looked at one another.
“I think I understand now,” said Ivo.
“Yes,” said Liall, soberly and unhappily.
“What do you understand?” asked Devita. She had stepped back, startled, when Ivo had drawn his sword, and now she was studying them. They did not answer immediately, and she frowned. “From the time I first saw all of you at the trial-at-arms, I had a strange feeling about you. Who are you and from whence do you come?”
“I think we should tell her,” said Neva. And when Ivo and Liall nodded, “We are not from Nordan, Princess.”
“So I was beginning to suspect. And I repeat, who are you and what do you here?”
“We will tell you if you will tell us something. Are you happy at the way things are now? At the hatred of Andor and the skirmishing along the border that threatens to become open and bloody war?”
“You must know that I am not.”
“So we thought. And therefore we will tell you that we are here because we do not like it either and were seeking a way to put an end to it and bring peace to Brunn and Andor.”
“You said were seeking. Does that mean you have found a way?”
“We think so. Though we did not say so, we knew about the black stone that had been set up on Tarec before you mentioned it. In fact, we have been on Tarec and seen it. Because we were told that the answer we were looking for was written on it.”
“And was it there?”
“Not all of it. Two pieces of the stone—and of the inscription—were missing. We found one of the missing fragments in Andor. This is the other. And now we know how what we want can be accomplished.”
“And will you tell me?”
“We will tell you what the inscription said. It was written in the old Tree alphabet and written in a way that made it difficult to decipher. But it reads: ‘Andor and Brunn shall again be one when Ima’s daughter marries Kennar’s son.’”
“I do not understand,” said Devita. “Who is Kennar’s son?”
“Who is Ima’s daughter?” asked Neva.
“I’m not sure. I suppose, since Ima founded Brunn and in time I will rule it, that I might be considered her daughter.”
“Yes,” said Neva. “And since those in Andor believe that it was founded by Kennar, Prince Liall who will rule there one day would be Kennar’s son.”
“Then what you are saying is that if I truly wish to bring peace then I must marry him.”
“It is not we who say it. That is what was written on the stone.”
“But I know nothing about Prince Liall beyond his name And besides …” She broke off.
“Yes, Princess?”
She looked at each of them in turn, her eyes troubled.
“You have told me much. And still it is my feeling that you have not told me all.”
“That is true, Princess. We have not.”
“Well, I do not want to hear anymore. Not now. I must think about what you have said already. Let us go back to the palace.”
They left the temple in silence, and in silence went back along the quays and up to the palace. When they were at the foot of the stairs, Neva, who had been walking behind the princess with Ivo and Liall, came forward tentatively, but Devita stopped her.
“No, Neva,” she said. “I will send for you if I have anything to say to you.”
And she went up the stairs alone.
Chapter 17
There was no word or sign from the princess until late in the afternoon. She did not come down to the great hall for the midday meal, and Neva, Ivo and Liall were out in the terraced gardens when one of the palace servants came along the winding path and spoke briefly to Neva. When he left, she rejoined Ivo and Liall.
“She has asked me to come to her chamber,” she said. “You are to come, too.”
“What do you think she will say?” asked Liall.
“I don’t know.”
As they entered the palace, Devita’s father, the warden, came down the stairs.
“Ah, the three from Nordan,” he said, looking at them sharply and searchingly. “I thought you were with the princess.”
“We were this morning,” said Neva. “And we are going to join her now.”
“Where is she?”
“In her chamber.”
Nodding, he strode off and they went up the stairs. Neva knocked, and when the princess answered, they went in. Devita was at the window, her eyes still troubled.
“You have given me a difficult problem,” she said. “More difficult than you know.”
“We’re sorry, Princess,” said Neva.
“I’m sure it was not by choice. I would do much to bring peace to Brunn. I have always thought I would do anything, but …” She broke off. “There is something you have not told me yet.”
“Yes, Princess.”
“I was not ready to hear it before. But now I must. What is it?”
“When we told you what was written on the stone, you said you knew nothing of Prince Liall besides his name. That is not true. Nord is Prince Liall.”
“So I suspected,” said Devita. She looked at Liall. “You have risked a great deal by coming here; your freedom and possibly even your life.”
“Yes, Princess.”
“Did you know what would be required of you before you came?”
“If you mean what must be done to put an end to the hatred between Andor and Brunn, no, Princess. None of us knew that before we read what was on the stone fragment in Ima’s temple.”
“And if you had known, would you have come?”
“Why do you ask that?”
“Because I cannot help wondering about it.” She looked at him levelly. “If you were free to choose whom you would to marry, would you have chosen me?”
He flushed slightly. “That is not a fair question. How often can a prince marry whom he would?”
“Not often. Nor a princess either. Well, you have answered me.”
“Princess …” he began.
“Nay. Say no more.” Then, as someone knocked on the door, “Enter.”
A servant came in with a tray and set it down on a bench. There were some small cakes on it and four silver cups, one of them elaborately chased and jewelled.
“Thank you, Bahri,” she said. The servant bowed and left.
“I have eaten nothing since early this morning,” she said, picking up one of the cakes and the jewelled cup. “I asked for wine from Weststrand, which is our best, and I thought you mi
ght like some, too.”
“You are very kind, Princess,” said Liall. He took one of the other cups and was raising it to his lips when Neva said, “No, Liall. Don’t!”
“What?” He looked at her, startled.
“I said, don’t!”
She had one of the plain silver cups in her hand, too, and though she had not tasted it, she had smelled it. Now she set it down again.
“But why?”
“Yes, why?” asked Devita. She sipped the wine in the jewelled cup. “Do you think it has gone bad?”
“No, Princess.”
“Then why? …” She stiffened and her eyes flashed. “You think there is something in it. Venom perhaps!”
“Yes, Princess,” said Neva steadily.
“Give me the cup!” she said angrily and taking it from Liall she was about to drink it herself when Ivo struck it from her hand.
“Don’t, Princess!”
“You mean you think it is envenomed, too?”
“Yes, Princess. Not yours, but these others.”
“And I say it is impossible!”
“Let us see,” said Neva. There was a mimosa in the corner of the room, the kind that is sometimes called a sensitive plant. She emptied her cup over it, and at once its leaves curled up and it began to droop. Devita stared at it.
“I still say it cannot be! If it’s true, who could have done it?”
“Not you, Princess,” said Neva. “That we know.”
“But then, who? …” She went to the door, opened it and called, “Bahri!”
“Yes, Princess?” said the serving man, coming in.
“We think there may be something wrong with the wine. Did you draw it yourself?”
“Yes, Princess.”
“And brought it here directly?”
“No, Princess. I was on my way when I met your father. He asked me where I was going, and when I told him, he said I should first take a message to the Count Jeranus for him.”
“And did you?”
“Yes, Princess. I left the tray in the great hall and went to give the count his message. Then I brought the tray here.”
“I see.”
“Shall I bring you other wine?”
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