"You? Leave the Pentarchy to look for the prince?" Beside her, Gunnar sputtered with consternation.
"That is what I said, and what I intend to do," was her imperturbable response.
The old duke looked taken aback, and then recovered himself. "I'm afraid, my dear girl, that it is impossible for you to leave the Pentarchy at this time."
"Nonetheless, I am going," she replied as firmly as before. "And don't bother to patronize me!"
"You don't understand, you are too close in line for the throne yourself!" Aidan's voice raised itself in protest.
Now it was out in the open; a rustle of anticipation swept the room.
"Well Aidan, I am, in actual fact, not the closest to the throne. Both my cousins, Gervase Iscoed and his sister, Genvra, have a closer blood-link than mine." Several people coughed nervously and exchanged raised eyebrows.
"Hollin, you know there has been a lot of talk over the last winter about the question of succession," Branwilde's sonorous voice was one of calm deliberation. Guessing that Branwilde had set it up for Aidan to raise the subject initially, Hollin braced herself to listen to the Duke of Creon's argument, knowing that his opinion was respected by the other nobles and that his advice was apt to be taken by them. "There have been a number of points raised that support a claim to the throne being tendered in your name," he began. "I confess that when I arrived in Pentarin a few days ago, I had no idea that the prince was still alive. I assumed, wrongly it seems, that this council session would be concerned with choosing a new High King from those candidates with the worthiest claims." He shot what could have been a look of amusement at his fellow council members. "Since it has been revealed that the legitimate heir to the throne is still alive, our first task must be to try to locate him and bring him home. However, in the event that he cannot be found, or for some unknown reason cannot return, the question of succession should still be addressed by us today." Amid the nods and vocal assents, Hollin sat in the realization that she was not to escape the council's manipulations without a degree of conflict.
"You have a good point there, Branwilde. What if the prince doesn't return?" Gunnar asked. "We need contingency plans!"
Laurin's thin voice cut to the heart of the matter. "It seems to me," she said, "that we all agree that Hollin is considered to be the most eligible of the claimants, both because of her close blood-tie to House Sandovar and because, before the tragic death of her sister, she was hand-fasted to the prince. Also, though none of you have said so much, she is unmarried."
"Exactly," Gunnar proclaimed emphatically. "Hollin is not married.”
With all of the haughty dignity she could command, Hollin rose and waited until all were silent. "Let me begin by making one point exceedingly plain to all of you: I am not simply "Lady Hollin," but Her Grace, Hollin Morwen Medicat ap Lir, sole ruler of the Duchy of Langstraad and wielder of the power of a Great House. No one in this room outranks me!" She paused and raked the room with her very cold, grey eyes, demanding their attention and respect. "You, my fellow dukes, are but my peers, and I excel in rank over everyone else in this room. No one here has the right to command or compel me to do anything!”
Her point made, she continued, "The succession to the throne of the Pentarchy is the issue, and knowing that the legitimate heir to that throne is still alive and, I trust, well, our immediate task must be to find Prince Brian. Only I can use the object that can find him. Therefore, I propose that an embassy befitting the future High King of the Pentarchy and head of House Sandovar be assembled to set forth as soon as possible to find him." She stopped to gauge the receptivity of her fellows, before adding, "I personally feel that to do less than this would be to court a charge of treason."
There was a long silence during which everyone looked at everyone else and then back at Hollin. Expecting Branwilde to answer for them, Hollin was surprised when Niall spoke first. "Hollin is absolutely correct; we would be remiss if we did not do everything in our power to place the lawful heir on his throne. I personally commend you for being so courageous as to offer the use of your ring in the attempt to find him, and I feel that you should be given the council's full support." He regarded her with a benign smile and inscrutable eyes. As several of the other nobles began to be swayed by Mirvanovir's words, Niall smoothly went on to add, "However, if we follow your lead in this matter, then it seems only right that you should at least agree to discuss a contingency plan."
At this, there were voluble utterances of assent raised by several council members. A hard glitter entered the Duke of Mirvanovir's eyes but his voice remained pleasantly conciliatory as he continued. "The Countess of Pentarell has, I believe, made an excellent suggestion. Should your quest be unfruitful and you not find the prince, or find him and be forced to return without him, then, in the interest of political stability, I would ask you to agree to marry the son of one of the Houses and begin a new line of kings."
The general acclamation that met this speech told Hollin that she was walking on thin ice to reject this proposal out of hand. She took a deep breath to steady herself. Niall's proposition was obviously considered by many to be eminently fair to the Pentarchy and entirely suitable to those of her caste who married for dynastic rather than personal reasons. Even Niall's choice of wife was based as much on her father's wealth and noble standing as on the lady's personal attractions. Was it only a peculiarity of her own nature to be so reticent about the idea of an arranged marriage? Since succeeding to the office of Duchess of Langstraad she had assumed that she would be considered ineligible to marry the prince and, in deference to her rank, that she would be allowed to make her own choice of a husband when she was ready to do so. Yet here she now stood faced with the choice of refusing to go along with the council, thereby all but abandoning the rightful heir and chancing civil war, or of accepting the possibility of forced marriage for herself if the embassy should fail to find the prince and convince him to return.
Aidan of Thurin spoke up. "I support Niall's suggestion, but I think that we need to address the question of how a consort would be chosen."
"The fairest way would be for all of the Houses to put forth a candidate and let Hollin choose," Laurin piped up.
"I agree that all of the Houses should put forth their own candidates, but the consort should be elected by a draw so that all of the candidates would have an equal chance," Gunnar pronounced officiously.
"Yes, I think we could all agree to that," Aidan concurred with a brisk nod of his head.
Lewys, with a worried frown, suddenly asked, "Since Hollin has been keyed to House Langstraad, and whoever she married would have only the potential of his own House Gift, won't this proposal result in the loss of the House Gift of Sandovar? And what becomes of Langstraad? Surely the duchess must abdicate if this course is taken?"
"Lewys raises some very good points," Aidan acknowledged. Turning to Percamber beside him, he asked, "What do you say, my lord? When you were made regent, were you given any access to the House Gift of Sandovar?"
"Assuredly not," Percamber demurred. "I am originally from the barony of Morna, which is not a House. My powers, or gifts, were not confirmed by descent but are individual to me. The House Gifts are fixed in the line of a particular House and, as you know, can only be set functioning though elaborate ceremonies."
"Colin, you have had the most formal training of any here; what do you say to this possibility?" Branwilde fixed his eyes on the viscount.
"I seriously doubt that Hollin could assume the powers of House Sandovar," he responded, "being already keyed to House Langstraad. Possibly, if she married a direct descendant of one of the Houses, her heirs might carry enough of the right blood to be keyed to House Sandovar. All of the original founders of the Great Houses, and eventually of the Minor Houses, are descendants of the founder of House Sandovar, so we are all related at a distance to the Royal House."
"This is really beside the point," Larth Brescom finally muttered aloud. "What is important right now
is to ensure our political unity."
"And that is why it is so important to get this embassy to the prince underway as soon as possible, " Colin said insistently. "If an alternate plan is deemed necessary before the search for Prince Brian is undertaken, then so be it."
Hollin groaned inwardly. It was abundantly clear to her that Percamber's and Colin's primary concern was with the prince and his return, and it seemed that they were willing to compromise with the other council members in order to be certain of having their own plan accepted. It was not the fault of either man that they did not know of her singular aversion to being married off in this fashion.
"Well, Hollin," Niall's voice was silken. "Everyone here seems in agreement. What is your answer?"
Backed into a corner, she thought wryly; what really is there for me to say? If she did not agree to this contingency, she was relatively certain that Niall and his supporters would not back her decision to go with the embassy. She could simply ignore them and go anyway, but that might well entail serious divisiveness among the council members and could hamper the prince's ability to work with the council if he did return. In the end it all came down to her willingness to gamble her freedom on her belief that the prince could be found, and that he would return willingly to accept his responsibilities. If that happened, she could refuse to abdicate her coronet and, as head of a Great House, she would make herself ineligible for marriage to him. Any way she turned, she found herself negotiating a political maze, just as Ian had warned.
At last, graciously inclining her head to the assembly, she spoke. "If you will all work together, marshaling the necessary resources to mount an expedition to go and find Prince Brian, then I am willing to agree that, if this quest fails, I will return and do as the council requests, marrying from among the assembled candidates." There were exclamations of approval from the others at the table as she sat back down, but she caught a look on Niall's face that made her pause and wonder, for she suddenly realized that he had not expected her to agree to his proposal.
The members of the council spent the remainder of that day's session in planning and working out the specific arrangements for the coming expedition. There was an air of contentment and self-congratulation among most the members now that a positive course of action had been proposed and accepted by all. The council did not pursue the issue of whether or not Hollin would be allowed to choose, or be forced to take the winner of drawn lots. For herself, however, Hollin resolved that the prince would be found and returned before either of those odious tasks was forced upon her.
"Well, my dear, today's session held undreamed of surprises for one and all." Niall turned to favour his wife with a sardonic grin as he raised the glass he was holding to her in salute.
Rashara, leaning back against the cushions of her chair, closed her eyes and said, "It's a pity that Prince Brian turned out to still be alive. Our plans have become more complicated by him and this ridiculous notion of trying to find and bring him back."
"Actually, it may work for us. I've been thinking, and there are ways to use this to our advantage, though we will have to work faster than we originally planned." He sat down on the arm of her chair. Slowly Rashara opened her eyes and silently regarded him with the questioning arch of her well-groomed eyebrows. "In the first place, there are many whose suspicions about us will be allayed if we allow them to think that our goal now is to see Hollin married to our son. Also, with Hollin away on this embassy, the Duchy of Langstraad will be without its commander, leaving one less power with which to contend. If we begin mobilizing our forces while everyone's attention is focused on her, using this quest business as a diversion, our traps can be laid with no one the wiser. The fewer eyes and minds directed towards us at this time, the better."
"Yes, I see that." She narrowed her eyes speculatively. "Oh yes, I can think of some very nice corollary actions to be started."
He reached out with his hand to touch her cheek with his fingertips. "Tuenth's boy? Is he still with us?"
There was a throaty chuckle of amusement, whether at him, or the boy, or both, was unclear. She took his hand and moved it down to where her skin met the top edge of her fine linen chemise. Diverted, he began to play with the edge of the fabric. "Have no fear, the little lordling will fall in with our plans, exactly as expected. You take care of your troops and I will take care of mine." The cloth came away unexpectedly in his hand, dispensing with further conversation.
Hollin returned to her own quarters after the members of the council had dispersed for the day, to sit for an hour or two in uninterrupted thought. Then, taking paper and pen, she had written a long letter to Ian, telling him of the events that had transpired during the meeting of the council, and of her forthcoming journey. She went on to explain about the crystal and the ring, and her involvement with Viscount Treves and his wife, but did not mention her fears concerning the council's plan if the quest for the prince failed in any way. He would read for himself between the lines. In closing, she wished him well and reiterated her faith in his stewardship.
Looking out of her window into the gloom of twilight, Hollin sat pensively, letting Inara brush out her long hair. Tonight there would be another banquet, mercifully not requiring full state regalia. Uncomfortably aware that many people would now be speculating on the chances of potential husbands for her as she dined among them, she was not looking forward to tonight’s ordeal. Manners would dictate that such talk be done behind her back and she hoped there would be no cases of lapsed decorum. As she brooded about how to get through the next few hours without being offended or angered, the door opened abruptly and a flustered Celia hurried into the room.
"Begging your grace's pardon but I just heard such news... The whole palace is in an uproar..." Wringing her hands together, the girl tried to gain control of herself in front of her mistress.
"Sit down, Celia," Hollin commanded, sharing a perplexed look with Inara, who stood with a collar of pearls and pale aquamarines dangling from her raised hands. "Whatever can be the matter?"
Placing her hands firmly in front of her, Celia caught her breath. "The Duke of Creon's daughter has been kidnapped!"
Hollin was clearly taken aback by the news. "Where did you hear this?"
"The news is all over the palace by now. It seems that when the duke and duchess returned to their rooms, the girl's maids told them that she had stayed in her own room all day, asking not to be disturbed. The duchess went to see if she was all right and found her gone. It is rumoured that one of the court musicians took a fancy to her and abducted her. The duke is said to be in a terrible rage." She took the glass of the cordial that Inara had poured for her during this recitation.
"Do you know whether she is supposed to have been taken away by force, or did she go of her own will?" Hollin asked, recovering from her initial surprise.
Celia looked shocked at what her mistress' question implied. "It can't be of her choosing. She's a duke's daughter!"
From across the room, Inara spoke. "Was there a note of explanation or did she just vanish?"
"There was no note that I heard of. The lady was simply kidnapped and spirited away for the man’s own vile purposes." Her voiced dropped a note as she delivered this bit of speculation.
"How did this supposed abductor get into her room? Creon's residence is at least as well guarded as our own. It seems rather convenient that the girl asked not to be disturbed while alone in her room and then a man breaks into that room and carries her off without raising an alarm," Inara scoffed..
"He was a palace-man, so he'd know his way about and not be questioned. Also, they say that he was the girl's music teacher some time ago. Perhaps the guards recognized him and let him in. They're questioning the guards now, but one of them could have been bribed," Celia argued heatedly.
Hollin, who had been mute during this exchange, looked sharply at Celia and repeated: "The girl's music teacher?"
"Former music teacher, actually," was the prissy reply.
&
nbsp; The image of a young man with bright eyes and an attractive smile who played for her the night she had dined privately with Lord and Lady de Chantalcalm came into Hollin's mind's-eye. Remembering their fondness for him, she shook her head grimly. Whether the girl had been forced or gone willingly, Colin and Dinea were bound to be embarrassed by the incident.
"The duke has taken measures?" Hollin inquired reluctantly.
"Oh yes, his grace has sent soldiers in pursuit of them. It's thought that they may have tried to escape by boat down the river. A woman in a fish shop by the wharves claims to have seen a girl answering the description of the lady being forced aboard one of the boats by several ruffians. Lord Percamber has also sent out members of the Household Guards to search the roads. Poor girl! Her mother is quite hysterical, so her ladies say." The restorative effects of verbally unburdening herself had returned Celia to a degree of composure and she peeked into one of the mirrors, smoothing the front of her dress.
The image of the Duchess of Creon in a state of hysteria was one that Hollin could not envision, though she did not say so aloud. Wishing more than ever that she could excuse herself from tonight's obligations, Hollin sighed and motioned to Inara, allowing the jeweled collar to be fastened about her neck.
The banquet that evening was a stiff and uncomfortable affair, with everyone very much aware of the news of the abduction of the Duke of Creon's daughter. Lady Dierdre, much to every one's surprise, attended the banquet to sit beside her glowering husband with a pale, composed face, stifling the crowd's urge to gossip aloud. To her right, her son, Owen, sat silently, looking depressed and miserable the entire evening. Wagging tongues said that he had volunteered to go in search of his sister but his father had refused permission. Lord Colin and Lady Dinea were also present, with drawn and worried faces, though no mention was made of the fact that the accused abductor had been a member of their household. Conversation was stilted and a somber gloom permeated the hall as the meal progressed to an early conclusion. With relief and vague comments meant to reassure, the guests took their leave and emptied the hall. For Hollin, the only positive aspect of the evening was that, with Creon's misfortune absorbing them, no one gave thought to tackling her with unwelcome questions.
The Pentacle War: Book One - Hearts In Cups Page 9