The Still roc-1

by David Feintuch

  “Tantroth.” Rust’s reassuring hand crept to my shoulder.

  “Duke of Eiber.” For a time, I stared down at the labor.

  “Look.”

  I followed his finger. To our north, Tantroth’s force spread out of sight beyond the castle’s east wall. And to our west, a narrow path, less than a spear-hurl, separated them from a second army, facing us for siege. “Uncle Mar.”

  “They’ve made common cause.”

  With sinking heart I reached for my clothes, and my coronet. “I’d best go down,” I said. “And see who hasn’t fled in the night.”

  Uncle Raeth’s breakfast table was set with its customary riches. I found him presiding happily over so many lords and ladies as seldom gathered. “Ah, Rodrigo.” He stood, made the bow of one intimate to another, of the royal family. “Do join us.” Willem and Vessa stood politely.

  Across the hall, Lady Soushire watched me with beady eyes. I nodded, choosing among a bowl of fruit “Where’s Groenfil?”

  “Here,” said a voice behind me, and I jumped. The Earl’s eyes were cold. “My lord.” He made a short bow, correct in every particular, cold as ice.

  Inwardly, I sighed. It was no more than I deserved. I’d somehow have to undo my folly. To divert my thoughts I asked idly, “Has Tantroth sent envoy?”

  “None,” said Uncle Raeth.

  “Odd, that he’d not seek to divide us.” Or, perhaps he already had. Digesting the alarming thought, I kept my face impassive.

  Soushire stumped to the table. “Why go to the trouble, when our King does that of his own?”

  I chewed that over, with an unripe apple.

  Elryc entered, saw me, ran to my side. “Roddy.” He thrust my arm around his shoulder.

  “What troubles you, brother?” My tone was gentle.

  “I’ve been … Hester. She won’t even … Oh, Roddy.” He wept.

  “She’s no better?” We’d had her brought into the castle, and tended.

  He shook his head.

  “Raeth, have you place in the courtyard to bury Pytor?” That detail couldn’t wait. Idly, I listened to his proposal. A granite circle, upright stones, a marker of bronze. I waved assent. “Rust?” I craned my head. “Come talk.”

  Elryc stirred from my breath. “He’s not here, Roddy.”

  “We came down togeth-very well.” I brooded. “And, Anavar?” He too was missing. Abruptly, I stood. “Uncle, lend me your garden. I would be alone.” Without waiting for answer, I crossed to the wide doors, slipped through, shut them behind.

  Little was left of Uncle’s pride and joy; the night’s fierce gale had ravaged nearly all his blooms. Nervously, I glanced about, but saw no dogs.

  I paced the ragged plantings until my legs grew tired. I sat at a marble bowl, in which the residue of the night’s rain puddled. What would you say, Rust? That I deserved what I’d got? Of course; I’m not complaining.

  Idly, I rubbed my palms.

  And Rust, why are you so sullen? Is it that I’m King, and escape your counsel, your chastisement? No, you were foul two nights past, before it was decided. Oh, I’ve tried you, I admit. Not as before, in Nurse Hester’s cottage, but surely enough. I’m impetuous, imperious, improvident. Imprudent, at times. But I love-that is, admire you, respect you. Can you not see? I’ll tell you, when I find you. I’ll speak True, so you must believe.

  An autumn breeze rustled the torn leaves.

  Well, Rust, pretend for a moment you’re not annoyed with me. What shall I do about Groenfil and the Lady Soushire? I abused them, never mind their greed. I tricked them into voting lawfully for my coronation. That gave me the crown, but at the cost of their enmity. How can I make it right?

  “Speak True.”

  I leaped to my feet, stifling a scream. That voice … “Mother?”

  Silence, then a faint voice within. “Do the unexpected.”

  I sighed. I need not pretend it was Mother who gave such sensible advice. I’d duped my way to the throne; if I didn’t learn honesty, my kingdom would melt away. As for avoiding the obvious … well, I’d learned something treading the halls of kings.

  So, now. Shall I fight Tantroth with foes gathered under my very banner? What mischief will Uncle Mar stir among us now? Oh, I deserve it; I already know that. If only I had the Still. What wisdom it brought I sorely needed. But Mar had the Vessels, and we were blood enemies.

  “To whom do you growl, my lord?”

  I whirled, kneading my hands. “Tresa. My lady.” I gave a short bow, barely polite. “I asked for solitude.”

  “I didn’t know.” A scant curtsy, and she was striding off.

  “Wait!”

  “You wanted to be alone.”

  “But now I don’t.” I stamped my foot. “Must I always be childish with you? Help me be other.”

  Something in my plea stayed her tart riposte. “All right, Roddy. I mean, Lord King.”

  “Roddy. It’s how you’ll always think of me.” I made an effort to smile. “The name sounds sweet on your lips.”

  To my amazement, she blushed.

  I paced amid the rows of earth. “I was wondering how to make amends.”

  “For what?”

  “So much. I tried to be kinder, really I did. Rust helped. I even succeeded, after a fashion. But I’ve so much to learn, and no time.” I cocked an ear to the clang and clatter of Eiber’s troop, beyond the walls. “I would lead, but I’m thwarted by who I am.”

  “It was you they chose last night.”

  “But I-”

  “Knowing your faults.”

  “Not all of them.” I brooded on Groenfil and Soushire. Hadn’t Rust warned me against deceit, ever more urgently? I turned to Tresa. “Even Rustin, I’ve driven away.”

  “No, my lord. He’s your friend.”

  I studied her face, and at last recalled her words, cast aside in the heat of the day’s events. “What said you that day when I spoke of Rustin? You thought for my crown we had … what?”

  Her face was resolute. “It’s for him to tell you, if he would.”

  “I won’t have that!” I could bear no more. “Speak, my lady. As King I command it!”

  A few moments later, she left. I stood ashen, staring at a rainbow of blossoms. Was it so lonely, to be King? Was this what must be?

  I threw open the doors. Conversation in the great hall ceased. I crossed to the table. “Summon our Lord Rustin, and our ward Anavar.” I took a seat. “By your leave, Uncle. This is your house, but we have business of state.”

  “Of course, Roddy. My lord.”

  “Very well. Outside, all of you, except my lord Groenfil and Larissa of Soushire. Await my call.”

  When we were alone the Lady glowered from across the table. Groenfil’s face was cold and distant.

  I hesitated, assailed by doubts. Still, I knew what must be done. “How have you decided?”

  Neither wanted to speak. At last Groenfil said, “To keep our realms.”

  “It’s wise. You see …” Abruptly I stood to pace; this would be harder than I thought. “Know you this: First, no matter what may come, I swear by the True, by Caledon, by all I hold dear, I shall not again use an oath to deceive you, to trick you by canny wording, or to let you believe that which is untrue. All I have attained by such oaths, I renounce.”

  “What say you?” Groenfil made no effort to hide his mistrust.

  “This.” I took the coronet from my brow, laid it amid the abandoned dishes of breakfast.

  “What trick-”

  I looked with longing at the coronet. “Yes. Renounce.” A long pause. “Where was I? Oh, yes. I beg your forgiveness. If you grant it, I swear you’ll have no truer friend, nor more grateful monarch, ’til I draw my last breath.”

  I had their attention, fully. I essayed a smile, but it didn’t come out right. “Do I think you greedy and foolish, to covet each other’s lands over some ancient quarrel? Yes. Do I think the less of you for it? Yes.” I bore their searing gaze. “But I turned your g
reed against you, and sullied the crown I would honor. I can’t have it so.”

  Groenfil snarled, “You’ve no right-”

  “I’ve no right at all. Last night I bade you confer. Today I ask it again. When you’re done, give the crown to Uncle Raeth for my successor. Or bring it to me in the garden, if truly you’d see me wear it.”

  “Roddy!” Groenfil’s command caught me halfway to the door.

  “Yes, my lord?”

  “Don’t expect the crown, after your treachery.”

  “Why, no, my lord.”

  “You don’t want to be King?”

  “More than I can bear!” I hesitated, looked past him to some dream of Caledon. “But there’s a kind of King I’d be. I’ve started wrong, and must retrace my steps. I think of the honor you showed me, riding at my side from your keep, despite the secrets I withheld. Sir, I would deserve that honor.”

  His eyes bored into mine. Uncomfortable, I turned to the Lady. “Larissa, I cannot give you Groenfil. But I proffer my friendship, if you’ll forgive my deceit.”

  She snorted. “What have you, to match what Mar and Tantroth would offer?”

  “Myself. And that’s little indeed.” Hesitantly, I approached her stolid frame. “Have you never wished, my lady …”

  “Yes?”

  “For an end to the intrigues, the bargains, the schemes? I’m barely grown, and I choke on them.”

  Her lips bared in what might have been a smile. “You’d be King without them?”

  I took deep breath. “Not entirely. But I must have those whose souls I trust. If I am betrayed, then so be it. I cannot live otherwise.” I turned back to the garden.

  Why was I not surprised, then, when the lords of Groenfil and Soushire brought my coronet to the garden, with civil words? I felt a player in a dream, afloat on a sea of indifference. I embraced them, wishing I could feel the gratitude I’d promised.

  After, I bade the doors be thrown open, and my lords admitted. With them came Rustin, Anavar, Tresa. Even Genard, attending Elryc.

  Uncle Raeth had been busy; he spoke of the orders he’d given for dispositions of troops, the relative strength of the various walls.

  “Does Tantroth attack?” Of course not, else the alarums of trumpets would have overridden all other concerns. “Then send envoy.”

  “Why? What terms could you possibly-”

  “Say that Rodrigo King of Caledon bids Tantroth welcome to our domain.” I reveled in their consternation. “Invite him to dine. Safe-conduct, and all that.”

  “Roddy, have imps taken your wits? He’s come to make war.”

  I chose not to hear insult. “See how Tantroth replies. Now, to other business. To each of you I humbly apologize for my late manners. And for toying with the True. I will speak honestly henceforth, and any noble is free to reprimand me should I not.” I sat, drummed my fingers on the table. “The Council of State is disbanded.”

  “What?” Whoever said it spoke the dismay of all.

  “I so decree. Who claims I cannot rule without Council?” I faced down their disapproval. “Now do I appoint privy councilors, to advise me in all things. I name Lord Groenfil and Lady Soushire, to remind me of humility. My uncle, Lord Cumber, who was first to support me, when my claim was weak. Elryc my brother, whose words are wise and honest. Lord Rustin. And Anavar, late of Eiber.”

  “Rodrigo!” Uncle Raeth’s cheeks held spots of pink. “Myself, I appreciate the honor, but Anavar-that goes too far.”

  “How so?”

  “If you’d reward a lover, give him gold, or-”

  “He’s not my bedmate. Rustin’s been that.” It brought stunned silence, as eyes across the hall flickered to Rust, and away. “Did I not tell you I’d speak True?”

  The Earl rallied. “It’s not fitting. The boy’s an Eiberian.”

  “Easily remedied. Anavar of Eiber, come hence.” I put a hand on his shoulder. “I declare you Baron of the southern reaches of Caledon. Will you be my vassal?”

  He fell to his knees. “Don’t toy with me, I beg thee.”

  “Will you?”

  He gulped. “Sire, in all matters save war against Lord Tantroth …” He could say no more.

  A borrowed sword, the ritual words, his palm to my chest, and it was done. “Lands will follow. Perhaps some part of Mar’s estate in Verein, that doesn’t go to Elryc.” I stood. “This afternoon we’ll confer regarding our attackers. Captain Tursel will join us. For now, I retire to my chambers. Lord Rustin, accompany me.” I swept out, oblivious of the hasty bows in my wake.

  In our rooms, Rust unbuckled his sword and stretched. “You were wonderful. Did you see-”

  I spun him to face me, shoved him to the wall. “Vile creature!”

  His eyes widened.

  “Among the others, I was silent. But between us, let there be no-” I pummeled his chest.

  He caught my arm. “Stay your blows. For what crime do you berate me?”

  “Imbar!”

  At first he held my eyes. I raised a fist to strike him, but he sank to a chair.

  “How could you? I vomit at the thought!”

  A whisper. “Stop.”

  “Only the son of a foul traitor …” My voice rose, and my invective soared. When I was done, I flung open the door. “Get out! Sleep with your new lover, or with Genard. Trouble me no more!”

  In the corridor, his hand reached out, as if in supplication. “It was for you.”

  “I won’t hear it!” I slammed the door with a mighty crash.

  I’d no sooner begun pacing when a knock came. “My lord?” Anavar.

  “What, boy?” I tried not to snarl.

  His face was tear-streaked. “You do me too much honor.”

  “Bah. I’m protecting you from my rages.”

  “I have title, yet I’m still your ward.”

  “Well, of course. You’re not grown.”

  “Father says-”

  “Please!” I covered my ears.

  “I’m sorry.” Tremulously, he crossed to face me. “Sir … Lord King-”

  “‘Sir’ will do, as before.”

  “I didn’t know how to thank you, in the great hall. You raise me from servant to earl-”

  “Not in one step.” I had to smile.

  “They speak of you in awe. They say Groenfil and Soushire converse, who’ve been foes for years. They say Earl Cumber …”

  I sighed. “Anavar, already I’m lonely.”

  “I’ll call Lord Rustin.”

  “No, he’s the cause.” I closed my eyes.

  “What’s come between you?”

  “That’s none of your-” I grimaced. Would I speak True, or no? “He allowed Imbar to debauch him, so the valet would urge Uncle Raeth to support me. Our friendship is done forever.”

  “Father says forever lies across steep hills; your steed may tire before reaching it.” He hesitated. “Sir, I’ve no love for Rustin; he beat me with his scabbard. But don’t lock him from your life.”

  “Who are you, to tell me what to do?”

  “Baron, and Privy Councilor, sir.” His gaze was defiant.

  “Oh.” I swallowed. “Yes. Well …” I sighed, suddenly finding it hard to speak. “I loved him. Not, of course, as I’d love a woman.” My words seemed too hasty, and perhaps a touch false. No, I wouldn’t think of that. “He was my true friend. And he betrayed me.”

  “As did his father.”

  My eyes burned. Smoke from the kitchens, no doubt. I forced my mind elsewhere. “Anavar, I have no proper court. The best service you can give is to attend me. Call those whom I seek; relay my words. When we’re home in Stryx, protocol will sort itself out. Chamberlain Willem will help …” I made a vague gesture. “Let’s find Raeth.”

  In the courtyard, Tursel had made great progress in settling the displaced townsfolk. His men had improvised rough shelters, in which villeins and merchants alike huddled. The pathways had been cleared of carts and barrows. Raeth’s stables were full to overflowing wi
th horses and mules.

  I found my uncle outside the kitchens, glaring at sweating cooks who labored over bubbling cauldrons. “That we have a horde of guests doesn’t mean you need oversalt the soup. By the demons’ lake, you know better! Tresa, watch over them. We’ve a reputation to uphold. Hello, Roddy. Or shall I call you King?”

  “You’re too old to change your ways,” I growled. “Tease me as you will. It’s your nature.”

  “Isn’t he a gracious sovereign, Anavar?” My uncle pursed his lips. “Perhaps I owe you an apology, my Lord of the Southern Reaches. Yet you were a foreigner at the time, perhaps I don’t. What say you?”

  Anavar gaped.

  I said, “He’ll delight in disconcerting you, boy, now you’re landed nobility and worth the trouble. Pay him no heed, unless the candles flicker.”

  Uncle bowed to acknowledge a point scored. “No reply yet from our, um, guest outside the walls. Ah, Imbar, what have you, a scroll? Perhaps I spoke too soon.”

  Breathing heavily, the erstwhile valet read aloud his missive. Tantroth Duke of Eiber would partake of Cumber’s hospitality, and meet under truce the boy pretender to the throne of Caledon.

  I clenched my teeth, determined to make no outburst. After, I was proud of the effort.

  So Tantroth would commit to our honor, knowing that one prick of a dagger could end him. He was no coward. I filed the knowledge.

  For a warrior in siege, Tantroth made an imposing entrance. He’d been allowed only six retainers, but two dozen men-at-arms accompanied him as far as our torchlit walls. They bore banners enough for a legion. After the gates closed I would slip inside, and be waiting when Tantroth entered the great hall, but now I paced the battlements with agitation, disguised in a shabby cloak.

  Was I wise to let Tantroth within our keep? He’d be well watched and amply guarded, but nothing would blunt his observations. Yet Caledon had never been an armed camp. His spies had entered Cumber’s gates on many an occasion, and he no doubt had maps of the castle as fine as our own.

  Tantroth’s honor guard reined in well clear of the wall, so we need not fear treachery. Nonetheless, two scores of our guard stood ready to force shut the door.